The Billionaire’s Prodigal Wife (Mackenna and Alessandro) novel Chapter 31

Since she had suggested it initially, Savannah had been ruthless in trying to convince Mackenna to go out with her and the other doctors and nurses to the new dance club. Savannah wanted to show off her dance moves and everyone except Mackenna and Nuncio were on board.

Nuncio in no uncertain terms wanted nothing to do with the idea. He refused to even bring it up to Alessandro, very aware his employer would say no and Mackenna was secretly grateful.

The last thing she felt like doing was dancing provocatively when her heart was still feeling so bruised.

Instead, she encouraged them all to go on without her.

As Savannah stood in their tiny bathroom wearing a tiny sequined number making her legs appear miles long, she pouted in the mirror at Mackenna standing behind her. "Are you sure you don't want to come? I believe it would do you a world of good."

"Dancing the merengue and getting wasted isn't appealing to me right now

Savannah. I'm just not ready."

"Okay," Savannah turned and gripped her hands. "Do you want me to cancel? I will stay in. We can order pizza and drink wine."

"No," Mackenna shook her head, squeezing Savannah's hands in response. Please go, have a good time. I have a new book I want to start reading. I'm going to sit quietly and read. Besides, the last thing you all need is a bunch of paparazzi hounding you everywhere I go."

They had not gone away since Alessandro's return to Phoenix. News of his donation to the orthopedic wing had been a sensation. The revelation the orthopedic wing was at the same hospital his wife worked at was a whole other level.

Alessandro was being dragged through the mud, not one single news outlet believed for a moment he had not known his wife worked at the hospital where his lover had been transported. They were calling him cruel and callous. Worse, they were hounding her at every turn asking her to comment on the allegations of his infidelity, as she stepped into his view. There was a spark, but he was too professional to flirt around on thejob and Savannah was giving him the cold shoulder for not responding to her advances.

Mackenna saw the way her bodyguard was letting his gaze go up and down Savannah's body and wondered how long before he said something. It took seconds.

"You're wearing that to a club?"

Savannah raised her eyebrows in his direction. "Yes, it's made exactly for this purpose."

"One wrong move and the entire club will see your bits," he tossed at her.

"They are my bits to show off, if I wish Nuncio." Savannah shot back. She looked to Mackenna, "l take it back, I don't like him."

"You should get changed." He glared at her. "The dress is too short."

Mackenna cleared her throat as the room filled with tension. "Yeah, um, I'm going to go to my bedroom now. You two sort out whatever," she waved her hand between them, "this is."

She retreated to her bedroom ignoring the hissed arguments carrying down the hall to her tiny room. She lay on the bed with her book propped on her knee and started to read the introduction to her book. It was another book on grief, supposed to help her process her feelings of sadness and shame. Her counselor was helping as well but there was only so much talking could do. Every book she read she desperately searched for some tiny bit of wisdom to dull the ache in her heart.

The sound of a slamming door rattled the entire apartment followed by Nuncio's yell of frustration and she gave a grin at the noise. She had a feeling her friend was going to have a security agent on her bad side for a while.

Her phone buzzed as a text message popped up. She lifted it from beside her and grinned at the long message Savannah had sent. A bang on her bedroom door had her putting her phone on her chest Nuncio opened her door, poking his head through. He looked positively murderous.and he looked to the phone. His intention was clear as he strode into her room to take it from her. "No, you are not invading my privacy by reading my private messages."

He stood with his hands on his hips torn between ripping the phone from her and respecting her as his employer. He turned on his heel. "Alessandro is in the living room."

She sat up angrily. "You couldn't give me warning he was coming?"

"You couldn't warn me she was wearing a dress with her ass-cheeks hanging out?"

She looked at her phone and typed a hasty reply to her friend and stuck her tongue out on his departing back. Nuncio was becoming the brother she never knew she had needed, and she enjoyed winding him up. She started to settle back down but then remembered he said Alessandro was here.

She groaned and walked the few steps to the living room to see him standing in her living room, his back to her, his hands clasped behind him. His broad shoulders were tense, and she felt herself instantly responding in kind, her fingers tightening around the book she'd forgotten to put down on her bed. Nuncio walked out the front door leaving them alone.

"Why are you here?" her voice broke and she cleared her throat. "Alessandro?" "What's with him? He's angrier than usual," Alessandro tossed his head in the direction of the door.

"Savannah pissed him off," She wasn't about to divulge his employee's love life to him. It was Nuncio's to discuss, not hers.

"She could piss off a cloister of nuns," Alessandro gave a half smile and noted the grin on his wife's face. How he missed her smile.

He studied her intently. "You look tired."

"l worked all week," she shrugged avoiding his gaze.

"You are not out with Savannah?"

"No," she swallowed deeply, aware there wasn't much place to put her gaze

"l wanted to ask you to dinner."

"No," she wanted to scream at him but took a slow breath. "l ate already."

"Mackenna, we need to talk."