Page 24 of Island Guardian (Brookwell Island #7)

She decided she was doing well because everyone who spoke with her commented on Rhett’s obvious happiness and how wonderful it was to see him in love. She wasn’t so sure about love, but with every beat of her heart she felt a deeper bond.

It would’ve been easy to blame it all on gratitude, but she knew it was more.

He’d saved her from an untenable situation—one he didn’t fully comprehend.

She really did owe him an explanation before they returned to Brookwell.

The last thing she wanted was for Luca to interfere or use the past as some kind of claim on her.

Even with all the celebrating, her mind occasionally edged toward the eventual break up that would disappoint all of these lovely people. Not today’s problem. Thankfully, it seemed every time her mind drifted too far into the future, Rhett found her and brought her back to the present.

They danced. They had a cake cutting. All the typical wedding moments, with none of their family in sight. She couldn’t speak for him, but for her it made it all easier.

She loved her parents dearly. They’d always wanted to see her happy, they simply disagreed about how Trina should reach that goal.

And they were wildly demanding when it came to proper traditions.

Recent talk about legacy didn’t help matters.

She wasn’t interested in taking over one of the family properties or shifting to desk work as part of the hotel management side of the Bollani business interests.

She shouldn’t be thinking about any of that right now. This was her wedding day and Rhett, with Ilsa’s help, had gone out of his way to pack it full of good memories for her. The least she could do was stay present. Lighthearted and happy, she did exactly that until the festivities wound down.

They left the ballroom in a hail of bubbles and laughter. Outside, he whisked her around the corner, cutting through a garden toward a service elevator. “This way no one will sneak up on us,” he explained.

Alone with him, surrounded by the lingering scent of fresh laundry, her nerves struck. A normal bride and groom would be together tonight. In one bed. Focused on each other, exploring the physical joys of their first night as husband and wife.

If he hadn’t stepped up to help her, he would have that. Instead of… Her.

He ushered her out of the elevator and into the suite, locked the door and leaned back, his head tipped up, eyes closed. Her fingers tingled, eager to touch that strong column of his throat. She couldn’t recall anyone else inspiring this daring, unfurling desire.

He looked so good, casual and relaxed. Confident in who he was. She wanted to take some of that into herself, use it to mute the countless doubts that plagued her. “You look incredible,” she murmured. Incredibly tempting.

“Same goes.” He pushed away from the door. “Our first married kiss felt picture-perfect to me. You?”

Oh, right. They’d practiced at her request. She nodded, words failing her as he walked closer. Did he expect…? Was he hoping for a typical wedding night?

Was she?

“I’m sure the pictures will be convincing,” she managed. “And thanks for all the little moments at the party.” She was confident now that no one had any idea this was a scheme they’d hatched a couple of days ago.

“You had a good time,” he said.

It wasn’t a question. “Didn’t you?”

His smile lit up his face, his eyes dancing with amusement. “Yes.” He seemed a bit dazed by the admission. “The big reception wouldn’t have been my first choice, but it was the right one. Ilsa will be reminding me of this forever. And it was a blast.”

“You think our friends and family will see the pictures?”

“I’m sure of it.”

Which meant Luca would likely hear about it too once her staff at the Inn started chattering. With any luck, pictures from tonight would be the catalyst that would propel him back to Italy ahead of schedule.

“Ready to call it a night?” He unbuttoned the vest as he walked toward the kitchen. “Or do you need a nightcap?”

She suddenly didn’t want the evening to end. Didn’t want to face the fact that they would sleep in separate beds. Not just tonight, but for the duration of their marriage. Trailing after him, she boosted herself up onto a counter stool. “Yes. If nightcap is code for a tall glass of water.”

He turned, bobbing his eyebrows. “It is, in fact.” He poured water for both of them.

“Gimme.” She wrapped her hands around the glass he’d filled with ice and water. “Being a happy bride is thirsty work.”

Across the counter, he faced her, gulping down the water and refilling his glass. She was certain that watching a man swallow shouldn’t be so sexy.

Then again, Rhett wasn’t just any man. He was the man who’d stepped in when she was frightened. He was her hero, saving her from the dreaded Bachelor Number Three.

Maybe it was the romance of the entire day combined with the marvelous high of dodging parental interference. Whatever the cause, she suddenly wanted this to be more real than fake. Even in private.

Did she dare ask? And if he agreed, would she be able to follow through?

That was the question that plagued her. The very issue that kept her locked down and set apart from normal relationships.

“You’re thinking mighty loudly, Mrs. Ellington.”

“Mrs.,” she echoed. She hadn’t thought of how it would sound.

How she’d feel with a different name. It wasn’t horrible.

She was proud of the family she came from, but this newness bubbled through her, much like those first sips of prosecco as the sun set over the water.

She was still her, but also someone new.

A wife and partner. Someone new with Rhett.

Could she become someone brave too?

Married now, who could stop her? The notion was heady. Addictive. Nearly as tempting as obsessing—on the inside—over his every enticing movement.

“I am thinking.” She felt heat flooding her face. “Can’t stop thinking.”

His eyebrows knitted, casting shadows over his eyes. “About who’s waiting at the Inn?”

“No.” She stood up. She was an adult. A woman who knew her mind despite her fears. Rhett wasn’t forcing her hand tossing out ultimatums. He’d given her choices. She could do this. She would state her desires and hopes. She would have this important conversation with her husband.

“About us.” Too late, she realized she had him backed into a corner right here in the kitchen. “About tonight.”

“I’m listening.”

At least he wasn’t trying to get away. Yet.

“My track record with intimate relationships isn’t great.

” What an understatement . “You’ve noticed I’m skittish and you’ve been wonderful about making me more comfortable.

” Her heart was racing now and she had to pause to catch her breath.

“Do you think, um, I know this will be a wild request.” She forced her eyes to meet his.

He had called her gorgeous. Said he was attracted.

Kissed her like she mattered. She lifted her chin.

He couldn’t say yes or no if she didn’t ask .

“Would you have sex with me tonight?” It came out in a rush. “Please. Just this one time can be enough.”

Assuming she could see it through. With Rhett, staring into his eyes, she trusted both of them. She truly believed he would help her over any struggles. She believed in him more than she did in herself .

His eyebrows lifted and he stared at her. “Trina.” He reached for her left hand, gently cradling it in his bigger palm. Already she felt treasured. Valued instead of merely convenient. “I think you’ve mistaken me for someone who isn’t into you.”

The low rumble of his voice stirred her senses. “So you’d be okay with, um, doing this tonight?”

He lifted her hand to his lips and the featherlight kiss seemed to seal a deep, abiding promise.

“If once is all you want, I’m in. If every day for the rest of our lives is what you want…

” His voice trailed off as he traced the curve of her jaw with his thumb and his hot gaze held her captive. “I’m in.”

Her heart, racing moments ago, tripped and stuttered in her chest. He meant it. He wasn’t giving her a line or saying what she wanted to hear to get his way. Breathless, it was all she could do to reply. “L-let’s start with tonight.”

His grip on her hand tightened for a heartbeat, the only sign of nerves she could find in him. “One condition,” he said, a smile teasing the corner of his mouth.

She swallowed, braced for rejection. “Which is?”

He tipped up her chin, his blue eyes intent. “You’ll tell me if anything I do troubles you or makes you uneasy.”

She bobbed her chin in the affirmative, wishing he’d kiss her so she could stop thinking. “I promise. Right now, I’m one giant bundle of uneasy,” she admitted. “But I want this. You .”

Flustered, she lifted a shaky hand to run her fingertip over the soft petals of the boutonniere on his vest. “I don’t know what to do next,” she whispered.

“Let me kiss you.”

It was a suggestion. Not a demand. Not even a question. “Yes,” slipped past her lips without a thought or worry.

His hand glided over the back of her neck, up into her hair. And a good thing too. Because the moment his lips touched hers, she melted. She clutched at his shoulders as he drew her in close to his body. Close enough to feel that she wasn’t the only one affected.

Aroused .

That was the only word for it. Every nerve in her body reached for him, for the sensual promises arcing between them. His spicy masculine scent wound around her, underscored by the sweet flower on his vest and the hint of clean soap bubbles from their send off.

And still a small, shy part of her waited for the groping to start.

He pulled back. “Talk to me.”

But she couldn’t ruin the present with the shadows of her past. “I’m good. You are—this is amazing. Please, don’t stop.”

His brow flexed. “We don’t have to rush any of this.”

She did. She needed to rush headlong into her new self as Mrs. Rhett Ellington.

Not because she was afraid. Or not just that.

Because she longed to be his wife in every sense, even if the marriage wasn’t destined for forever.

For years, she’d believed positive, mutual intimacy was beyond her.

To have this moment tonight, with Rhett—a handsome blend of integrity and raw sex appeal—was a miracle all on its own.

“I don’t feel rushed.” Speaking it, the truth gave her a sweet buzz.

“Please…” She couldn’t summon the right words.

Running her palms over his chest, she felt his heart pounding.

A jolt of feminine power rippled through her.

She reached for the buttons of his vest, knowing he was the answer to so many questions she’d long buried.

Questions about herself and her ability to make a personal, intimate connection.

She pressed up on her toes and kissed him, boldly following the sensual intuition rioting through her.

All good. No fear. And with his arms wrapped around her, strong and steady, she was already celebrating the new self he would help her create.