Total pages in book: 59
Estimated words: 54160 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 271(@200wpm)___ 217(@250wpm)___ 181(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 54160 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 271(@200wpm)___ 217(@250wpm)___ 181(@300wpm)
Luca pressed a tender kiss to my forehead. “You’ll believe me one day,” he murmured. “I’ll prove it to you.”
I pressed my lips together, fearful that I’d spill more of my secrets if I dared to reply.
Luca seemed to understand that I wouldn’t say anything more, so he stepped away and picked up the hairbrush again. Shock loosened my tight chest when he gently ran it through my hair, careful not to pull at the worst of the tangles where Alberto had mussed it. I allowed him to continue in silence, my mind too muddled to come up with conversation. The act was strange but soothing. The bristles massaged my scalp, and after a few calming, quiet minutes, my hair was glossy and free of snarls.
He gathered up the heavy locks and tied them in a loose bun. I watched him in the mirror in front of me, feeling too shy to meet his eyes directly. A man had never touched me like this: with tender care. There was nothing sexual about the way he was handling me, even though I was mostly naked. Warmth pulsed in the center of my chest, chasing the last of the chill from my bones.
When he was finished, he brushed a kiss over my nape, then dropped to his knees before me. His thumbs hooked through my panties, and I didn’t resist as he slowly slid them down my legs. I stepped out of them, and he took my hands in his. Wordlessly, he guided me to the tub.
I sank into the warm water, until the bubbles tickled my chin. Luca rolled up his sleeves, revealing corded forearms. Then he picked up a washcloth and dipped it into the suds. I pulled back slightly when he reached for me.
“What are you doing?” I asked, my voice strangely soft and slow. I felt sleepy and a bit drunk, so tired after everything that’d happened to me in the last twenty-four hours.
“Taking care of you,” he replied, as though it was the most natural thing in the world.
He began to wash me, and I didn’t protest. It felt strange, but good. Maybe this was normal for married couples? I didn’t know anything about what happened in private between a man and a woman. My naivete was a little embarrassing, but I was too relaxed to feel any shame.
“I’m sorry for upsetting you earlier,” he said after a while, his voice a deep rumble.
My eyes fluttered open, and I found him watching me with a heavy-lidded gaze, as though he was feeling slightly drunk too.
“When?” I asked. He’d upset me so many times since he’d kidnapped me. Upset wasn’t even a strong enough word.
“When I insisted you take birth control,” he reminded me.
A needle of anger pricked at the peaceful cocoon that’d engulfed me, but he immediately soothed it away with a stroke of the cloth down my spine.
“I think I pushed too hard, but I need you to understand that everything I’ve done is for your own protection. We can’t risk a pregnancy right now.”
My cheeks heated at the memory of how he’d humiliated me with his erotic touch after he’d given me the shot; how he’d promised to reward me with pleasure if I behaved at the reception.
“And after that?” I asked, still too lethargic for the demand to hold any venom. “When you touched me and teased me. How was that protecting me?”
Another stroke down my spine. I melted into his touch.
He released a low, satisfied hum. “Our marriage has to seem real,” he explained calmly. “My position as heir isn’t secure if this alliance with your father doesn’t seem genuine. If you’d fought with me at the reception, everyone would know that you hate me.”
I pressed my lips together. Before the party, I had told him that I hated him. And in that moment, I’d meant it. Now, I wasn’t sure of how I felt about my mercurial husband. He’d promised that he wouldn’t harm me. He’d sworn to protect me. And he had defended me from Alberto. He was touching me with nothing but tenderness as he bathed me.
I said nothing, too tired to puzzle out my conflicted feelings toward him.
That night, he didn’t force himself on me. He didn’t wring pleasure from my unwilling body, and he didn’t selfishly claim his own. My husband simply held me, cuddling me in our bed and petting me until I fell into a deep, dreamless sleep.
Chapter 9
Luca
I’d been a married man for nearly a week, and I still barely knew my wife. I’d been busy with the family business and with moving my ailing father into our house in the city. He’d insisted on giving the Long Island mansion to “the newlyweds” since I had no plans to take a honeymoon. Tensions were still running high, and Dante hadn’t shown his face since I’d stolen his bride. If Dad found his absence at the reception odd, he didn’t remark upon it.