“Be right back,” he murmurs, pressing one last kiss to my shoulder before getting up.
I stretch, still feeling that delicious sensation between my legs.
Just like every morning, I woke up naked, spooned, and safe in his arms. It only took me rubbing against him for his mouth to find mine, and his fingers to touch me where I needed them. Alexander reached blindly for a condom before entering me and starting my day in the best way possible.
Smiling, I shake my head. I really could get used to this.
It doesn’t take long before I feel him beside the bed again. I crack one eye open, and the smile disappears.
Before my thoughts can catch up to the change in his face, he speaks. “The condom tore... right at the tip. It wasn’t a big tear, but—”
It doesn’t need to be big to have consequences.
The implication sobers us both. I push myself upright, drawing the sheet to my chest as the hazy bubble of bliss collapses around me.
“Okay... I—” My voice falters as my heart races ahead of my brain. “I have an IUD. It’s good for another year before it needs to be replaced.”
I search his face, looking for relief. But there’s only a devastating focus.
Alexander sits on the edge of the bed. “I’m clean, Cecilia. The last time I had unprotected sex was in my last serious relationship. It feels like a lifetime ago. I haven’t been with anyone since this time last year—I always used protection with her. And I’m meticulous about getting tested.”
I nod, unable to find my voice.
The relief doesn’t last long. It’s strangled by the thought of him with another woman. I’ve never been the jealous type. I never cared about the past of the only other man I’d ever been with.
So why does the thought of other women in Alexander’s bed feel like a punch to my gut?
I don’t bring women to my family’s villa.
The memory of his words loosens something inside me. I am the only one. Not just at the villa, but here. In his home.
Digging my fingertips into the mattress beneath me, I startle when his knuckles brush my cheek.
“Are you okay?” he asks, his voice careful.
“Yes. I’m clean too. My tests are up to date.”
He leans in and kisses me, washing away the last of the tension.
“Shower with me?”
I nod without thinking.
He gets up and reaches for me, lacing his fingers through mine. With a gentle pull, he brings me against him, his arms closing around me as he guides me into the bathroom.
Sliding the last pancake onto the platter, I turn off the stove. I’m stretching up on my toes to reach two plates from the shelf when his arms circle my waist from behind.
I set the plates on the counter and lean back into his strong chest, my eyes closing as his thumb traces absentminded circles over my stomach.
“Here,” he murmurs.
When I open my eyes, he’s holding his phone out in front of me. “Take it.”
I accept the device and realize it’s an email. A medical report, first in Italian, then in English beneath it. I skim the words and it doesn’t take long to understand what I’m seeing: a full lab panel. Negative, across the board.
“Scroll,” he insists. “The standard physical is there too.”
But I’m not looking at the numbers. I’m staring at the date.
