Never Again Yours (Isadora and Magnus)

Isadora wore a pale lavender silk gown, the fabric cascading in soft, cloudlike layers down to her ankles—a dreamlike vision, as if she were wrapped in the glow of a summer sunset.

The dress wasn't form-fitting, and unless you looked closely, you'd hardly notice she was nearly four months pregnant.

Victor narrowed his eyes and studied her. "Where are you going?"

"Charity gala," Isadora replied.

She turned her back to him, fumbling with the zipper. With the baby bump, even this simple motion was a challenge.

"Victor, could you help me with the zipper?"

Victor set down his tablet, got up, and walked over. His hands-clean, long- fingered, and steady-found the zipper and slowly drew it up her back. His fingertips brushed, featherlight, against her delicate skin, sending a subtle shiver up her spine and raising goosebumps on her arms.

Lately, Victor had been holding her every night as they slept. At most, he'd press a gentle kiss to her cheek or her hand-nothing more. Had she not heard the shower running in the middle of the night, Isadora might have wondered if he'd lost interest in her altogether.

Truth be told, she'd recovered well. Weeks of bed rest and nourishing meals had left her feeling rounder in the middle, but otherwise healthy. Still, she couldn't bring herself to be the one to initiate intimacy. That would seem far too desperate.

Yet every night, wrapped in his arms, something always felt missing. The thought made her cheeks flush pink.

Victor placed his hands on her shoulders, standing behind her as they both faced the full-length mirror. He looked effortlessly handsome in a crisp white shirt and tailored black trousers, his presence commanding. She, in her lavender dress, leaned gently against his chest. Their reflections fit together perfectly-an unexpectedly beautiful pair.

Catching herself in the mirror, Isadora suddenly snapped out of her reverie. Good grief, she scolded herself, what's gotten into me in the middle of the day?

Victor pinched her warm earlobe. "I'll go with you."

She cleared her throat. "That's really not necessary. Don't you have a work dinner tonight?"

Without missing a beat, Victor replied, "I canceled it."

Since Isadora had come home, Victor had barely left the house, working remotely instead of going into the office. If she did the math, it seemed he hadn't set foot in The Fitzgerald Group since her hospital stay.

She glanced at him. "It's just a charity gala. You've already arranged security for me-don't tell me you're going to follow me everywhere I go from now on?"

Victor didn't argue. Instead, he set his terms. "Text me every hour."noveldrama

Isadora rolled her eyes internally, but she knew better than to push him right now. "Alright," she agreed.

Suddenly remembering something, she looked up and held out her pale palm. "Well then, Mr. Fitzgerald, your wife plans to do a little shopping tonight. Shouldn't you make a gesture?"

Victor's lips curled into a smile. He pulled out a sleek, jet-black card and placed it

in her hand. “Knock yourself out.”

Isadora's eyes sparkled. She knew

there were fewer than a hundred of these cards in the world, and only a handful in all of Capitol City. The card had no spending limit,

She rose on tiptoe, wrapped her arms around his neck, and planted a quick kiss

on his cheek. "Thank you, darling."

Before he could react, she slipped away, happiness radiating from her as she left the room.

Victor stood frozen for a moment, his fingertips tracing the spot where her lips had touched his face. Her voice "darling”—still echoed sweetly in his ears.

He found himself wishing she'd do it again. Maybe he should give her another card, just to see if he could coax another kiss... and another endearment.