Deadly Games - Cate Noble [61]
Gena checked the dining room with a critical eye. Fresh flowers. Candles. Table linens, pressed. Silver, polished.
She couldn’t cook, but her mother had made certain Gena knew the proper way to set a table.“How else can you correct the staff, darling?”
Gena moved a plate a fraction of an inch and nodded. Not bad for two hours’ notice and no staff.
She plucked the empty wineglass from her place setting and then retreated to the kitchen before she changed her mind again. Would Rocco notice she wasn’t drinking before they sat down to eat?
She rechecked her menu. The entree she’d ordered from The Crusader was ready to pop in the microwave alongside the asparagus and new potatoes. Salads were in the fridge, along with two slices of chocolate mousse cake, though the thought of chocolate, or any food for that matter, nauseated her.
There really wasn’t anything else to do until Rocco arrived. Except relax. Ha! Fat chance that.
She hadn’t seen him or talked with him in six weeks. A month and a half with only the occasional “Jesus, I miss you, princess” missives from throwaway e-mail addresses that were never used twice.
Gena had known from the beginning that life with a covert operative would never be normal. They couldn’t always go and do like a normal couple. Rocco kept irregular hours, irregular weeks. He frequently disappeared, more and more often, without warning; working on assignments they rarely discussed—though she could make an educated guess.
Everything he did was fraught with danger. His enemies outnumbered his friends. And he saw things no one should. Fighting the good fight took a toll, even on a warrior.
Which was why Gena always tried to make their moments together special.
She thought Rocco appreciated her efforts, but lately … She wasn’t sure of anything these days. And this time it was more than the vague but troubling rumors that percolated through the office. “You know how men are. Think they’re safe dallying in foreign countries. Talk sweet to their girlfriends, while texting their whores.”
Her friend Harry had told her to ignore the grapevine. “Go with your heart,” he’d advised.
Gena touched her abdomen. She needed to listen to Harry more and tune out Rumor Central.
Last time, Rocco had been gone more than six weeks and had seemed overjoyed to see her. Granted, he’d only been home two days before disappearing again. Two days that had been a blur of lovemaking.
Would this be a repeat? Wham. Bam. Bye. She looked down at her sundress. She’d selected the strapless dress because it called attention to her cleavage— Rocco’s favorite body part, even if he wouldn’t admit it. “There’s not one part of you that I don’t love, princess.”
She hoped he’d notice her breasts were bigger and ask why. But now she worried the dress would inflame his libido, which would in turn inflame her. And then they’d fall into bed and—
They had to talk first.
Gena went to her bedroom closet and found a short lacy jacket to slip on. It made her look more dressed up, but this was a celebration. A double celebration.
That Rocco had obviously made a special effort to be there today, for their two-year anniversary, made her feel less apprehensive. Two years.
Where had the time gone? It seemed like yesterday she was fretting over her lack of sexual experience. Three days on that private island had changed her life forever. After that they’d agreed to be monogamous and Rocco had declared his undying love shortly thereafter.
Of course, that was before she’d discovered she was pregnant. Before she’d started letting the gossip weigh her down.
It was also before her disastrous trip to Texas the first of June. Her father had never approved of her job at the State Department, and since Gena rarely went home anymore it was easy to ignore her father’s verbal jabs about cocky CIA agents and his advice to find a rich, single senator.
So when her father announced in all seriousness that it was time for Gena to return to Sugar Springs and fulfill her family duty, she’d nearly choked.
Family duty meant marrying the boy next door,