Page 20 of His to Keep (Reluctant Vows #6)

E ilidh

For the past few years, I’ve clung to the hope that I wasn’t the only member of my family to survive the massacre at Blackfold House.

I prayed to deities I don’t believe in for Alexander to have somehow made it out safely.

Recently, I’d begun to accept the most likely scenario, that he was dead.

Now, suddenly, he shows up just after I marry Gio. The timing makes me suspicious.

I don’t know what to think or feel about my brother’s unexpected appearance.

Happiness should be the dominant emotion I experience, but it’s being pushed down by anger, confusion, and something I can’t put a name to.

It might be dread. As crazy as it sounds, since I was reluctant to marry Gio in the first place, I’m worried Alexander is here to take me away from my husband.

So many questions swirl in my head, but I can’t bring myself to go back downstairs to get the answers.

I have no idea how to be in the same room as my brother right now.

How do I act around him? It’s perplexing because on one hand he’s familiar, and on the other a stranger.

Four years is a long time to have been apart.

I’ve changed and he must have too. What if I don’t like the man he’s become?

I used to worship my older brother. I couldn’t bear it if he’s now a complete asshole.

Rosalia sits and watches me from where she’s perched on the wide, low windowsill.

We haven’t spoken since she came into the room and asked me if I was okay.

My curt no made her retreat. Despite the silence, I’m glad the other woman is here.

Rosalia has a calming presence. She’s not trying to crowd me, to get answers to why I’m upset.

She simply sits there, quietly offering support.

“My brother showed up,” I say eventually. “After the ceremony.”

Rosalia’s eyebrow arches. “You didn’t want him here?”

“It’s not that. I thought he was dead.”

“Oh.” Rosalia seems lost for words, which I completely understand. My situation is not something many people come across.

“My family was murdered and he…” I can’t get any more words out.

The enormity of what’s happened suddenly overwhelms me. A maelstrom of emotion swirls inside me and I break down crying. Rosalia is by my side in an instant. She sits on the bed beside me and wraps an arm around my shoulder.

“I’m sorry.” Burdening people with my tumultuous feelings has never been something I’ve enjoyed.

“Let it out,” Rosalia advises. “It will do you good.”

“I don’t even know why I’m crying,” I sob. “I’m glad he’s alive.”

“Of course you are, but you’ve had a shock. Once it’s sunk in properly, everything will be better.”

I’m sure she’s right. Usually, I would cope with this turn of events just fine. Over the years, I’ve learned to roll with the punches. I just need time to get used to Alexander being back.

Moving out of Rosalia’s embrace, I wipe the tears from my face.

“Could you go and ask Gio to come up?” I’m surprised he didn’t follow me straight up here. He probably wanted to speak to Alexander first.

“Of course.” As she gets up, the door opens and Gio walks in.

“ Signore .” Rosalia bobs her head and squeezes past him to leave the room.

“Did you know?” I ask before he can speak. “When you agreed to marry me, did you know Alexander was alive?”

Gio meets my gaze head on. “No, kitten, I didn’t. I promise you if I’d known I would have said something.”

It’s clear he’s telling the truth.

“So, where was he all this time?” The breath catches at the back of my throat. Tears fill my eyes once more. “Why didn’t he come for me?”

As heaving sobs rack my body, Gio strides across the room to scoop me up into his arms. He sits on the bed, settling me on his lap.

“He was injured, kitten. He didn’t remember who he was.”

“He was hurt badly?” Hating the thought of my brother being injured when he had no family there to support him makes me cry even harder.

“It seems so.” Gio strokes my hair gently. “If he’d known where you were, if he’d been able to come for you, he would have.”

“You think so?”

Gio nods decisively. “I know so.”

He tightens his arms around me. I lay my head on his chest and listen to the slow, reassuring beat of his heart. I match my own breaths to the rhythm and slowly bring myself under control.

“Are you okay now, kitten?” Gio asks.

“Yes.” I peer up at him, surprised by his caring side. “I don’t want to speak to him yet. It’s too soon.”

Gio nods, as if he expected that. “I sent him away.”

“You did?”

“Yeah. I told him to give you space. Until you’re ready, you don’t have to see him again.”

Gio’s fierce protectiveness makes me smile. This is a man who’ll do battle with anyone to keep me safe, even my own brother.

“Thank you.” I sit up a little straighter. “That was Niamh Donnelly with him, wasn’t it?”

“It was.”

“Do you think they’re together?”

Gio shakes his head. “No, apparently she and your other brother had a special relationship.”

“I always wondered if Jamie was involved with her. He refused to marry Cara Drummond because he was in love with someone else.”

“Speaking of Cara Drummond,” Gio says carefully. “Your brother has her.”

“ Has her? You mean like a prisoner?”

Gio shrugs. “I don’t know. He just said he’d secured an important asset and that it was her.”

My stomach roils. Talking about Cara as an asset doesn’t give me confidence he’ll be kind to her. “He wouldn’t hurt her, would he?”

“I didn’t get the impression he would, but you know him better than I do.”

“I knew him four years ago.” Sighing heavily, I shift on Gio’s lap, turning to face him fully. “Look, let’s not talk about him now. We just got married. We should focus on that.”

“You sure? You don’t want to talk about it?”

“You want to spend our wedding night raking over everything that happened to me, analyzing my feelings about it?”

I am not up for a therapy session.

“No, what I really want is to fuck my wife, but I won’t push you into anything.”

“Our courtship may have been unconventional,” I say, “but I want a normal wedding night.”

“You’re really sure?”

While I applaud his dedication to ensuring my wellbeing, it’s annoying that he isn’t taking me at my word. I nod determinedly. For tonight, at least, I want to put all thoughts of my dead family, my years of captivity and Alexander’s resurrection to one side.

“I may not have wanted this, but we’re married now, and I want to make the best of it.”

Gio smiles, his eyes gleaming with genuine pleasure. “So do I. Where do we start?”

“You’re the one with all the experience, aren’t you?” I sass.

Gio grimaces. “I’m not sure I like being painted as a man whore.”

I lift my right shoulder in an indolent shrug. “If the cap fits.”

“Let’s not rush into anything tonight,” Gio suggests. “How about we get you into a nice warm bath and take it from there.”

Preferring showers, I don’t see the appeal of soaking in a tub, but I appreciate Gio’s trying to be thoughtful here.

“Okay,” I tell him. “That would be nice.”

Gio

The scent of mandarin and bergamot fills the air from the oil I poured into the running water. I stare into the bathtub and frown.

“It’s not making bubbles.”

“That’s because it’s an oil, not bubble bath.” Eilidh turns her back to me. “Can you help me with the zipper?”

I step up behind her and quickly unzip her, knowing that if I take my time, if I touch her for too long, I won’t be able to resist taking things further.

Claiming her as my bride for the first time is something I want to savor.

Eilidh deserves to be treated like a queen tonight and I’m not about to let my animal urges ruin that.

“I didn’t get a chance to tell you how beautiful you look in this dress,” I tell her as she shimmies out of it.

“It’s incredible. I can’t believe you did this for me. I mean, you must have commissioned the dress before we even met.”

Shrugging, I pretend like it’s no big deal, but I went to a lot of effort. When I researched Eilidh’s background I looked at hundreds of photos of her. It was clear she shared a close bond with her mother.

“You had a picture of your mom on Instagram. It was her wedding day. You captioned it with a comment about wanting to look as beautiful as she did when you got married.”

“I did?” Eilidh’s eyebrows lift in surprise. “Fuck! I forgot I even had social media accounts.”

In only a lacy bra and panties, Eilidh bends to pick up the dress. She holds it out to me. “I’d like to keep it. Can you hang it up for me?” She grins wickedly. “Perhaps our daughter can wear it one day. Griselda Morag will look great in it.”

“You are not naming our children,” I say with a shake of the head.

Eilidh shoots me a fake pout. Leaving her to remove her underwear and get into the tub, I take the dress through to the bedroom and find a hanger for it in the walk-in closet.

The fabric is delicate, so I take care hanging it up.

Despite Eilidh’s jokes about names, I can see us with a daughter one day, a gorgeous little girl with her mother’s big brown eyes.

It would make me so proud to walk her down the aisle wearing this gown.

Damn! I feel like I’m about to tear up. When did I become so sentimental?

A knock at the door distracts me from my thoughts. I go to open it and find Rosalia with a champagne bottle tucked under her arm, two glasses in one hand and a plate with a large slab of chocolate cake in the other.

“I wasn’t sure if this was appropriate, signore , but…”

“It’s perfect.”

Thanking Rosalia, I take the cake and champagne from her and return to the bathroom.

Eilidh is lying back in the tub, her eyes closed, a look of total serenity on her face.

I kneel next to the bath and set the plate and two glasses down on the floor before popping the champagne cork.

Although I do my best to minimize the sound it makes, Eilidh sits up, looking startled.

When she sees the source of the sudden noise, she smiles.

“Champagne?”

I pour a glass and hand it to her. “And chocolate cake.”

Eilidh leans out of the tub and grins when she sees the large piece of cake. “You’re spoiling me, Mr. Volante.”

“You’re worth it, Mrs. Volante.”

Fuck! Saying her name sends a shiver down my spine. I raise my glass. “To my beautiful bride.”

A tinge of redness touches Eilidh’s cheeks. She bites her lip coyly. “To me,” she says with a chuckle. “And to my apparently romantic husband.”

I rub the back of my neck awkwardly. “The credit should really go to Rosalia.”

“Did she choose my wedding dress?”

“No.”

“Then I repeat. To my apparently romantic husband.”

We clink our glasses together and both take a sip. Less used to drinking alcohol than I am, Eilidh screws her nose up. “That’s kind of sharp.”

“You don’t like it?” I hold out my hand to take the glass from her.

She clutches it dramatically to her chest. “I didn’t say that.”

She takes another couple of sips.

“Do you want me to scrub your back for you?” I offer.

“No.” Eilidh lowers her gaze then gives me a coquettish glance. “I want you to feed me chocolate cake.”

“And then?”

“Then I might let you kiss me.”

Adopting the same flirty tone she’s using, I move a little closer so my face is mere inches from hers.

“And then what?”

“That depends, on whether or not you’re a good boy.”

“Oh, I can be good.” It goes against my nature, but I’ll be whatever my wife needs me to be. “For you, I can be very good.”