Modern Romance April 2019 Books 1-4. Heidi Rice

       CHAPTER EIGHT

      ‘BREATHE IN!’ ZOE URGED.

      ‘I am breathing in!’ Vivi protested, fighting to get her breath back and giving up the struggle to flop back on the side of the bed, the striped cropped jeans she had planned to wear to leave the hotel still unzipped. ‘What on earth is the matter with them? They were a perfect fit a couple of weeks ago!’

      ‘That tight they’d be very uncomfortable to travel in,’ Zoe pointed out gently.

      Vivi gritted her teeth. ‘I can’t have put on that much extra weight already,’ she argued. ‘I’m only a few weeks pregnant.’

      ‘Maybe you’re one of those women who’s going to blow up into a balloon straight away,’ Zoe muttered uncertainly. ‘You should ask Winnie. She knows more than me about being pregnant.’

      ‘A balloon?’ Vivi repeated, aghast. ‘Thanks a bundle for that image, sis!’

      ‘Well, how would I know what it’s like?’ Zoe pulled an apologetic face.

      ‘What on earth am I going to wear?’ Vivi snapped, standing up and peeling off the jeans in angry frustration. ‘All my stuff was packed and sent over to Raffaele’s town house, where I thought I’d be living, but it’s now probably on its way to the airport.’

      ‘I’ll give you the skirt and top I was planning to change into this evening if I got too warm,’ Zoe offered helpfully.

      ‘The skirt’ll be too short for me,’ Vivi framed, tears suddenly stinging her eyes in a shocking surge. ‘Oh, my goodness, what’s the matter with me? I’m crying!’

      ‘Pregnancy hormones...have you forgotten what Winnie was like? She could’ve wept the Thames dry while she was carrying Teddy! Emotionally, she was all over the place.’

      Vivi resisted a ridiculous urge to throw herself down on the bed and sob over the jeans that didn’t fit and the skirt that would be too short and breathed in deeply to get a grip on herself instead. She couldn’t afford to be out of control around Raffaele and she didn’t want to make a fool of herself either. A few minutes later she had donned Zoe’s pencil skirt. She only just got the zip up, thanking heaven that her sister was a little curvier in shape. The lace top was a tad more revealing on her than it was on Zoe and a little too tight and short.

      ‘I look awful!’ she proclaimed. ‘I’m showing far too much skin.’

      ‘I doubt if Raffaele will complain,’ Zoe teased. ‘Your legs look fabulous.’

      ‘Well, it’s this or nudity.’ Vivi sighed, averting her eyes from the very slight hint of a curve on her once concave stomach. Her body shouldn’t be showing a change in shape so early, she thought irritably. Was she eating the wrong stuff? Was there a special pregnant lady diet she should be following? Was she bloating? That was probably all it was, she told herself soothingly. Didn’t she have enough to worry about with Raffaele having thrown down that demeaning gauntlet of a challenge?

       Either you want me...or you don’t.

      Talk about going back to basics! Of course, she wanted him on that most primitive level, and well did he know it! She had always wanted him that way. It wasn’t something she was proud of but there it was, an instant chemical attraction that had yet to dim. Of course, being around him more, maybe familiarity would breed contempt, she thought hopefully as she emerged from the lift into the busy hotel foyer.

      Winnie bustled over to her. ‘Why are you wearing Zoe’s clothes?’

      ‘Don’t ask,’ Vivi said with a grimace. ‘Where’s Raffaele?’

      ‘In the bar with a very beautiful blonde called Elisa,’ Winnie responded with slightly raised brows. ‘Apparently she’s absolutely gasping to meet you and become your new best friend.’

      ‘Really?’ Vivi queried on a note of surprise.

      ‘Feels it’s her duty as Raffaele’s “friend”.’ Winnie made air quotes with a roll of her eyes. ‘To advise and support you.’

      ‘Support me?’ Vivi cut in.

      ‘Since you’re a fairly new arrival on Grandad’s social scene and Raffaele’s,’ her sister clarified.

      ‘Well, we’ll see about that,’ Vivi said dismissively, heading for the private bar attached to the function room, her cheeks colouring self-consciously because she was hyper-aware of her less than elegant appearance. What was cute and appropriate on Zoe’s tiny frame looked rather different on her own tall, skinny body, she thought ruefully. And a tall skinny body developing curves where nature had never intended curves promised to be a nightmare to dress.

      None of those thoughts crossed Raffaele’s mind for a moment when he saw his bride walking towards him with the fluid grace of a dancer. She looked like a fantasy come to life, he thought with an almost adolescent knee-jerk reaction that shocked him. But there she was, gorgeous legs on display from her dainty ankles to her slender knees to her pale shapely thighs. The top hugged a swell of bosom that there seemed to be more of than he recalled, but reasoning over the why or the how of that was beyond Raffaele at that instant, fighting as he was not to display his arousal in his neat-fitting trousers. He gritted his teeth.

      ‘Vivi...come and meet Elisa,’ he urged, reaching for her hand to tug her closer.

      Vivi shot him a glance, virtually allowing herself a five-second scrutiny, not allowing herself any longer and, bang, the effect of him hit her like a wave, drowning her in impressions she didn’t want. But there he was, the luxuriant blue-black hair he kept short glimmering below the lights, his bronzed classic profile lightened by a smile, his beautiful mouth sculpted and sensual, and she wanted to flatten him to the carpet and taste that mouth and everything else about him right then and there because he was stunning. And stunning being the only word she could come up with unnerved her even more. It took effort to recover from that volatile instant of abstracted erotic imagery and deal with the woman being introduced to her.

      ‘Elisa Andrelli.’ The beautiful blonde air-kissed her on both cheeks but only by dint of stretching up on tiptoe. ‘Dio mio...you are tall!’

      ‘Six feet in these heels,’ Vivi agreed with a helpless grin. ‘My sisters are both small. I loved it when I outgrew them, because Winnie was older but I could talk back to her more effectively when I could look down at her.’

      ‘Always a fighter,’ Raffaele remarked with amusement.

      ‘You’d better believe it.’ Vivi could feel the blonde’s critical appraisal moving over her outfit and inwardly she cringed before lifting her chin with determined indifference.

      ‘I know the best places to shop in Florence. I could advise you on what to wear for special occasions,’ Elisa told her earnestly.

      Vivi smiled. ‘I don’t need advice in that line but thanks, all the same,’ she murmured with as much sincerity as she could fake.

      Raffaele walked her away. ‘That wasn’t very generous of you. Elisa can come across as patronising, but she is well-intentioned.’

      Resentment sent hot pink flying up into Vivi’s cheeks. She was beginning to realise that she was much more thin-skinned around Raffaele than she was around other people. A hint of criticism from