Page 131 of Nine Months to Love

“Good?”

“I could live here. Just for this dessert.”

“We can arrange that.”

She opens one eye. “You’d buy a villa in Italy just so I could have tiramisu whenever I want?”

“Yes.” Zero hesitation. It’s the truth, and we both know it.

“You’re insane.”

“And yet you love me anyway.”

She shakes her head, but she’s smiling.

After dessert, Giancarlo and Mariolina clear the table and disappear into the house. We’re alone on the veranda with the stars coming out overhead.

Olivia stands and walks to the edge of the pool. She slips off her sandals and dips a toe in the water.

“It’s warm,” she remarks. She turns to me. The lights catch her hair and turn it gold.

“Want to swim?” she asks.

“I didn’t bring trunks.”

“Neither did I.” Her smile turns wicked. “Guess we’ll have to improvise.”

As if she read my mind earlier, she reaches back and unzips her dress. It falls to the ground in a whisper of fabric.

She’s wearing nothing underneath.

My mouth goes dry. My cock goes hard. My brain short-circuits.

She’s perfect. Her breasts are fuller than they were a month ago and the curve of her belly might just be the sexiest fucking thing I’ve ever seen.

She steps into the pool without looking back. The water rises to her waist, her hips, her shoulders. Then she turns and floats on her back, hair fanning out around her like spilled ink.

“You coming?” she calls.

I’m already unbuttoning my shirt.

The water is perfect. I swim to her and she wraps her legs around my waist. We float together, her head on my shoulder, my hands on her hips.

The only sounds are the gentle lapping of water against tile and the distant chirp of crickets. It’s peaceful in a way my life hasnever been peaceful. In a way I didn’t think was possible for men like me.

“Can I ask you something?” she says suddenly.

Fuck. Here it comes. “Anything.”

“When you think about our baby, what do you see?”

Not what I expected. I consider the question, really think about it instead of giving her some throwaway answer. “I used to always picture a boy.”

“Used to?”

“Now, I think about a girl more. A little girl with your eyes and your smile.” I tighten my hold on her. “Smart like you. Stubborn like you.”

She laughs softly. “God help us both if she’s stubborn like me.”