The Billionaire’s Prodigal Wife
Chapter 39

After the bathroom girls talk, Mackenna had more drinks, multiple more dances with Alessandro and as the evening was winding down realized she was likely going to be on the other side of a wall while Savannah and Nuncio got it on.

She signalled for another drink, but Alessandro held his finger up to the bartender. “What?”

“You’re stumbling a bit,” he said gently. “Maybe you’ve had enough.”

“No,” she refused to agree. “I think,” she grabbed his shirt and leaned in, “Savannah and Nuncio are going to do the nasty and I need to be passed out because there is no way I want to listen to it.”

Alessandro’s laugh echoed around her swimming head, and she tried to slap it away as it were flies.

“Mackenna, you can stay in my suite tonight.” As her head snapped up to look at him, he put his fingers to her lips. “Friends Mackenna. You can take the bed. I’ll take the sofa.”

“You would do that?”

“Yes, besides, I have a funny feeling you’ll be out cold before we get back to the hotel anyway. I like you best when you participate.”

She saw the bartender waiting for her and she shook her head. “I’m good. Thanks.” She put her hand to her head. “I need to go soon.”

She let Alessandro lead her towards Savannah who was standing at the edge of the dance floor finishing another drink. “Hey, I’m leaving now.”

“You, okay?” She looked past her to Alessandro.

“Yeah, fine. He’s a perfect gentleman,” her speech slurred, and she gave a shake of her head. “He’s going to let me sleep at his place, so I don’t have to hear you have s*x with Nuncio.”

Nuncio’s head spun at Mackenna’s words, and she giggled and covered her mouth. “Oops, I said it way too loudly.” Savannah’s face was bright red and Mackenna leaned in and kissed her cheek. “Go easy on him. He looks fragile. Don’t break your bed and stay out of my room.”

Savannah pushed her back to Alessandro, grinning wildly. “Your wife is drunk. Get her out of here before she gives poor Nuncio a stroke.”

“Someone needs to stroke him, he’s wound up pretty tight,” Mackenna said loudly and laughed when Carlos who had just stepped up to them guffawed at her comment. “I’m not wrong,” she patted Carlos’ chest.

Mackenna waved goodbye to Padma and Derrick who were grinding provocatively on the dancefloor and then Maisy and Cassidy who were still dancing with the club dancers.

She was tucked against Alessandro’s arm as they made their way into the cool early morning air. “I’m hungry. We should replace a hot dog vendor.” She started off in the direction of where she knew one would be, but Alessandro pulled her back.

“Or, I will have room service send up some food for you and you eat something not made out of leftover animal parts.” Alessandro never understood the American fascination with hotdogs. He’d tried them once as a child and never again.

“No, Alessandro, I want a hot dog.” She stomped her foot angrily and he raised an eyebrow at her. “Either come with me or wait here but I’m going for the dog.”

Rio put his hand on Alessandro’s shoulder. “What do you want on it Mackenna? You get in the car with Alessandro and Carlos, and I’ll go get the dogs.” He ran off after she mumbled something about mustard as Carlos yelled at him to grab him one too.

She licked her lips at the thought of her hotdog and then followed Carlos to the car. “I like him.”

Alessandro chuckled as he bundled her into the car, her skirt riding way to high exposing her rear end to him. Thankfully, Carlos blocked any potential photograph with his body, but Alessandro couldn’t resist and slapped the bare flesh. “What are you wearing under the dress?”

“A thong,” she looked over her shoulder rubbing where he’s smacked her. “That hurt.”

“One gust of wind and your a*s would be all over front page of tabloids everywhere.”

“Nope,” she smirked. “Your men are too good. It would never happen.”

He couldn’t argue with her and watched her as she let her head fall back against the seat of the limo. A low snore left her mouth and he and Carlos shared a grin as they realized she was already asleep. Then the door opened again, and Rio slid in with three hotdogs in his hands and her head instantly popped up and she reached for the dogs.

“Yes!”

“I thought she was asleep,” Carlos muttered.

“I could smell them,” she grinned as she pulled the foil off the breaded delight and took a huge bite. “It’s so good.”

Alessandro watched in amazement as she devoured the snack food in three bites, lay her head back against the headrest and passed out.

“She is going to be so sick,” Rio passed the other two hotdogs to Carlos.

“She’s out cold,” Carlos lifted her hand up and it fell with a slap against her knee where her dress had risen. “I’ve been with you for ten years and this is a first for me. You in a club dancing for pleasure and not publicity and getting a girl so drunk she agrees to go home with you.”

Mackenna opened one eye. “You only go dancing for publicity? Shameful.” Her eyes closed again, and she snored.

The rest of the ride was in silence as they all tried to figure out if she was really sleeping or pulling one over on them. When they reached the hotel there was a discussion about carrying her or waking her, but she sat up suddenly stretched and said she was good to walk.

When they got to Alessandro’s room, Mackenna said goodnight to Carlos and Rio who were going to go to their suite and sleep. She stood facing Alessandro nervously. “You’re sure about the sofa?”

“Positive,” he was not positive, but she was drunk and under no circumstances was he going to be accused of anything the next morning considering how volatile their relationship was.

“You’re too long to sleep on the sofa,” she looked him up and down. “I can take the sofa.”

“Go to bed Mackenna,” he said, his own exhaustion from a transatlantic flight, a night of drinking and partying and dancing with her taking its toll. “I will be fine.”

“What if,”

“Mackenna go to bed,” he moved to her then and pushed her in the direction of the bedroom.

“I was just going to say, I trust you not to do anything. You can sleep on over there, and I’ll sleep on this side. Friends. I’ve slept with Savannah before.”

“Savannah doesn’t want to be buried to the hilt in you.”

“Oh,” her eyes were wide at his comment.

“Right. Go to bed.”

“I don’t have anything to sleep in.”

He moved to the closet and pulled one of his shirts from it. “Here, wear this.” He tossed it on the bed and walked back to the sofa.

“Goodnight, Alessandro.”

“Goodnight Mackenna.”

She slipped into the cool sheets and lay staring at the ceiling. The sound of him kicking off his clothes before settling on the sofa filling her ears and then darkness as he turned out the lamp, “Alessandro?”

She heard his exasperated breath.

“Yes Mackenna.”

“I had fun tonight.”

“Me too.”

“I’m really glad you came home early. I missed you this week.”

He didn’t say anything to her comment, so she rolled onto her side. “Alessandro?”

“Yes Mackenna,” there was an edge to his voice now.

“I know it wasn’t your fault.”

The sound of him tossing on the leather upholstery filled her ears.

“What wasn’t my fault?”

“The accident. I know you told him to just replace me. You didn’t tell him to chase us. I just want you to know, I know it’s not your fault.”

He sighed deeply and it echoed in the silence of the hotel room. “Thank you for saying this, Mackenna.”

He started to relax as he assumed she must have fallen asleep. He folded his hands flat on his chest and closed his eyes. He wasn’t comfortable so he went to roll over and then yelled when he opened his eyes, and she was standing over him her face inches from his as if trying to see if he was awake.

“Damn it Mackenna,” he grabbed his chest. “Are you trying to give me a heart attack?”

“I’m sad,” she whispered, her eyes full of tears.

“Oh, my love,” he opened his arms and she crawled onto the sofa with him, resting on his chest. “Tell me why you are sad.” He stroked her back gently but then her next words broke his heart.

“I miss my little lima bean,” she sobbed into his neck. “I never got to say goodbye. He was just gone.”

He had no words and so he just held her while her sobs racked her body. “Shh,” he rubbed her back and kissed the top of her head as she cried her heart out.

After long minutes of her crying in his arms, she sniffled and snuggled against him. “I’m sorry. You’re probably so tired.”

“I am never too tired to hold you while you cry,” he kissed her forehead. “Are you okay?”

“No,” she felt teary still and wiped her face with the back her hands. “I will be but right at this very moment, I don’t think I am.”

“How can I help?”

“Can you just hold me?”

“I can but not on this sofa because it was barely large enough for me, it’s certainly not big enough for two. Up,” he encouraged her into a seated position and then as he swung his legs off and stood, he simply swept her up into his arms and carried her into the room. He lay her on her side of the bed and then rounded to the other side, sliding in behind her and drawing her backwards against him. “Sleep now, my love. You’re exhausted.”

“Mm hm,” she whispered as she snuggled her head into his bicep under her cheek.

An hour later she was thrashing in her sleep and Alexandro made out the faint cries of her calling for her grandparents and he turned her to face him, pulling her deeply into his arms and holding her. As he held her, he cried his own tears his heart broken for the pain she was going through and for his own loss. She turned in his arms and pulled his head to her chest, this time offering him the comfort he too desperately needed. She ran her fingers in his hair and held him tightly.

Eventually his breathing evened out and she settled again falling into a deep sleep, but he lay awake the rest of night, holding her, wanting to be sure if she was upset again, he was there for her.

In the early morning hours, she suddenly sat up in the bed and made a beeline for the bathroom and he sat up and asked if she was all right. The sound of her being violently sick made him g***n as he flung the blankets off him before standing up to follow her. He found her with her arms wrapped around the toilet and he chuckled.

“The hotdog is not sounding like such a good idea now, huh?”

His accent grated on her nerves as she contemplated murdering him for his good humour whilst she was hurting. “Get out,” she croaked, “I’m dying. I threw up in my hair.”

“You’re not dying. You’re hungover.”

“What time is it?”

“If I were to guess, about six-thirty, almost time for breakfast. Eggs?”

She immediately turned to be sick at his words, and with a low laugh, he stepped over her to run the shower. “Come,” he lifted her from the floor and then pulled the shirt she’d slept in over her head, gently removed her ponytail and pushed her into the stream of water. He left her standing in the shower to make a call down to the front desk for specific items to be sent up. Then he went in search of something for her to wear. He grabbed another one of his dress shirts and headed back to the bathroom.

He found her leaning against the shower stall wall, pale and half asleep. It was obvious she hadn’t moved since he had stood her in there. He stepped into the shower with her and grabbed the hotel shampoo and began to wash her hair and then with as much self-control as he could muster, he washed her down from head to toe. Turning off the taps he grabbed a towel and dried her off hastily before wrapping her back up in a clean shirt, folding up the sleeves. He then swung her up and carried her back to the bed, nestling her among the pillows.

A knock on the door told him the concierge was at the door, so he went to the retrieve the items he’d called down for.

Mackenna gave him a sheepish smile as he came back carrying a bottle of water, headache tablets and make-up remover. “You’re taking very good care of me.”

“It’s what friends are for right?”

She pulled a face as she accepted the water and tablets. She closed her eyes as he cleaned her make-up off, enjoying the feeling he was taking care of her. Her heart was a conflicted mess, but she needed this moment.

He tossed the wipes away and smiled softly. “There’s my beautiful girl in her natural state.” He pressed a k**s to her forehead and moved to turn away to let her rest more.

“I’m sorry about last night,” she whispered suddenly. She had never been one to forget things when she was drinking, and she knew very well she’d spilled her heart out on him.

“I’m not,” he said seriously. “You’re hurting and I want to be the one you turn to.” He held her gaze, “I admit I wish it didn’t take eleven vodka and cranberries and a hotdog to get you to tell me how you’re feeling but I’m glad you let it out.”

“Thank you,” she didn’t break eye contact. “I think I needed last night more than I knew.”

“You know what I need?” he said suddenly.

“If you say runny eggs, I’ll be sick.”

“Sleep,” he shook his head. “It’s too early to be up on a Sunday morning. Let’s get some rest.”

“Really?” She was surprised at his comment. Alessandro had always been an early riser, hitting the gym before most people were even awake. To hear him say he wanted to sleep told her he was not as unaffected by the early morning events as he was leading her to believe. She pushed over in the bed and patted it beside her.

“You sure?” he asked before moving to the bed.

“Yes,” she replied earnestly. “I’m very sure.”