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I now understand why Maksim's father had us chauffeured immediately here, without stopping. To everyone else, it looks like a bride and groom who just arrived at their reception. My father-in-law may be old but he's definitely not doddering. The cheeky old sod planned this perfectly. Hmm. I think I like him.
"What's that little hum for?"
"Your father might just be a mastermind."
"He's strategic."
"Well," I say, grinning up at him, not shrugging him off when he places his hand around my waist. His hand lands on my hip, tucking me under his arm. He smells so good. How does he smell so good? I don't allow myself to concentrate on the chill that slithers down my spine at his touch. I remind myself it's over my gown, not directly on my skin. I love the way my husband's hands feel on me. "I love a man with a plan. As nefarious as he may be."
A ghost of a smile spreads across his face, grunting in agreement.
After taking pictures and having lunch at the block party with well,everyone, we're shown to the Giordano villa at the top of the hill.
Although fortified, it is grand and gorgeous, with white stone walls, a Calcutta roof, arched entryways, and windows with red shutters. It’s like looking at a detailed painting of a landscape. Stepping through the threshold in Maksim's arms – as we do for show, since the whole village is watching – and yes, four women stare daggers through me the entire time, I almost gasp when he kicks the door shut behind us.
The sun peeking through the blinds reflects off the white marble floors, making them glitter. The trim along the archways that lead into the hall is painted gold, but the most fascinating thing is across the room: floor-to-ceiling windows that show a beautiful view of the city of Verona in the distance, along with a large pool in the backyard.
My hand finds purchase on my pendant as I hold my breath, taking in the sight. I’ve been to this country many times, but this…thisis an entirely different experience. “Maksim,” I breathe. “It’s beautiful.”
"Come, I'll show you to your room."
I take in every detail, every picture on the walls, but I stop and gaze at the blown-up family portrait of a youngversion of Maksim, his father, and a brunette with beautiful bright blue eyes and a gorgeous smile. She sits between her son and husband like a queen on her throne. Both men look dangerous. I take a chance and glance up at Maksim. His brows are pinned together, and there’s a look of deep longing and a hint of sadness on his face. The vulnerability there peeks through but for only a moment. He flicks his gaze to mine, and that look is replaced by... something.
I want to tell him that she’s beautiful, that I would have loved to have met her, sat down with her over breakfast and had a cuppa with her. I want to tell him the pictures I saw of her online don’t do her justice… but then he’d know I did research on his mother’s gruesome and untimely death.
I want to reach out, place a hand on his arm, and comfort him. He makes a motion with his head, silently telling me to follow, and I do.
"There are clothes for you in the wardrobe. The wives went shopping for you. Bath is through that door."
I arch a brow. "How do they know my size?"
He smirks. "You have your ways... I have mine." He recites my own words back to me.
He turns to leave.
"Maksim?"
"Hmm?"
"I... I'm going to need help getting out of this dress. The buttons..."
He faces me slowly, his throat bobbing and the look in his eyes is either murderous... or hungry. He twirls a finger in the air, and I spin around to face the view, sweeping my hair to the side with one hand. I hold my breath when I feel his hand on the nape of my neck, and goosebumps erupt everywhere.
I ignore the electricity crackling between us as featherlight, effortless, skimming touches begin. He does his best not to touch me with his nimble, expert fingers as my dress becomes loose around my chest... my ribs... my tummy. I clutch the corset before it drops completely. The door behind me slams shut, and I'm left alone with nothing but the view of Romeo and Juliet's city staring back at me.
I let my dress drop, ignoring my reflection in the full-length mirror sitting in the corner of the room. It displays my body wearing the virginal white, expensive, lingerie that was made to be ripped apart and destroyed by a husband who couldn't wait to ravage his wife.
I strip it off... and throwit in the waste bin.
Chapter Fourteen
Maksim.
I wake to small distress sounds coming from the room across the hall. I go to her immediately, gun in hand, in case some idiot somehow snuck in and it's trying to take my wife from me as a show of power – to undermine me.
I stride into Sabrina's room but find she's alone in her bed. The light to the bathroom is on, filtering in through a crack in the door. The comforter is down by her feet, and her legs, encased in small sleep shorts, are twisted. The camisole she’s wearing had come up, a small expanse of stomach showing. Her hands are up as if she were saying, "Stop." She looks frozen, teeth gritted together. There aren't words escaping her lips, but she looks paralyzed, trapped in whatever is happening inside of her mind.
I don't think - I just do.