Page 7

XAVIER

B y the last day of our honeymoon, I'm sure I could have booked the weekend at a hotel down the road from my home and barely noticed the difference.

Because while Cozumel is beautiful, Maria and I end up spending most of the time in bed.

No matter how many times I have had Maria, and in how many ways, it doesn't sate my thirst for her. Instead, it just makes it worse, building the fire higher within me, until I can only find relief when I have her pressed against me or when I'm balls deep inside of her.

It's like we're in some sort of trance in Cozumel, eating, drinking, walking the beach, and fucking. To anyone looking at us, we appear like any other just-married couple. How is it we haven't even known each other a week, and already Maria has made a home beneath my skin?

It isn't just her body, either. Maria was brave enough to face this marriage with her head held high, and she's met me beat for beat ever since.

She's fierce when she needs to be, and soft when she feels secure.

She's funny and quick-witted, and I find that even when we aren't all over each other, I seek her out just to be close.

Hell, if I didn't know any better, I'd say I'm falling in love with her. But that's not possible after such a short time, is it?

Fuck. I'm a man who's supposed to know what he wants and who isn't afraid to make split-second decisions. Not being able to admit how I feel about Maria makes me feel like a fucking coward.

Reality doesn't settle in again until we're on the flight back home, and each hour that draws us closer to Chicago seems to be pushing the two of us apart.

My Maria, with the love bites still red on her neck, leans away from me, chewing at her kiss-swollen bottom lip.

By the time the plane lands, she doesn't even make an effort to take my hand or look back as we disembark.

It's pissing me off, but it shouldn't. I told her this was how I wanted things to be. We'd fuck, get it out of our system, and go back to our normal lives, pretending to be in love around my family but being completely separate otherwise. She said yes and agreed to it.

And yet I can't help feeling that things are different now. We had our honeymoon—or maybe a better term would be a sex marathon—and it changed things. Maybe she's just feeling unsure.

Or maybe I'm just an idiot, and this is a game to her.

The drive back to the estate feels longer than it did the last time.

That means I have plenty of time to stew over Maria's silence.

Once we pull into the driveway, I'm ready to snap, and I take her arm to guide her into the house.

Inside, I shut the door behind us and back her against it, caging her in with my arms.

"What's going on with you?" I demand, meeting her gaze. "You've been giving me the cold shoulder since we got on the plane."

Maria crosses her arms, looking away. "Nothing. I'm fine. "

"Bullshit," I snap. "Why are you so pissed off at me? Now that the honeymoon is over, you’re feeling like a prisoner again, is that it? Or do you regret letting me fuck you?”

"Is that what you think?" she asks, eyes flashing as she meets my gaze. "You're really that blind? You honestly don't know why I'm upset?"

I frown, confused. "No, I don't. You're the one who agreed to this plan in the first place. I told you from the beginning that we would be married, but it wouldn't have to be anything more than that. I gave you an out. I did exactly what you wanted. What the fuck do you want from me now?"

"Nothing." She pushes against my arm, trying to get past me. I let her go, watching as she stalks toward the stairs. "Just leave me alone, okay?"

"Fine," I snap. "Have it your way."

I'm too worked up to follow her. All I want to do is kiss her until she's forgotten about whatever is wrong, drag her back to bed, and fuck her until she forgets about being angry at me. But if she wants to be that way, fine. She's going to get exactly what she asked for.

My father is sitting in his recliner when I walk into his room, reading a newspaper and drinking coffee. He looks up and grins when I walk in, motioning for me to take a seat.

"Welcome home," he says. "Did you enjoy yourselves?"

"Yes, thank you. I didn't get a chance to talk to you before we left. Did you enjoy the wedding, Pops?"

"Of course, I did." He folds the paper and sets it aside. I'm glad to see he looks the same as when we left. I know he's not going to get better, but every day he doesn't get worse is a blessing. "It was perfect. Exactly what I wanted to see before I go. "

"Don't talk like that, Pops."

"No, it's true. I'm dying, and I want to die knowing that you're settled."

"I am settled," I promise him.

"I know," he agrees. "But that alone isn't enough. You need someone who can love you with everything they have. Someone who can be by your side through thick and thin. Someone who will be loyal and stand with you no matter what happens."

"And you think Maria is that person?" I ask skeptically.

"I do." My father smiles at me. And then, he says something that makes me think maybe I'm not as smart as I think I am … something that tells me my father knows more about the circumstances of my marriage than he's letting on. "You just need to convince her of that."

Startled, I ask, "What do you mean?"

"You're a hard man, Xavier. I can't fault you for it.

I was the same at your age, but I can give you some advice that I hope you'll take—don't waste time.

It goes too fast. And don't forget to be open around the right person.

The one person who sees all the best parts of you, who makes you want to be a better person, will be worth everything in the world.

But if she can't find a way in through that hard exterior, she might slip through your fingers. "

I'm dumbfounded. "Did you already know?—"

"We can talk later, Xavier, but if the yelling I heard when you and your new wife got home is any indication, you have some amends to make. Go before she has time to realize just how difficult we Romano men can be."

He doesn't need to tell me twice.

I find Maria on the second floor of the porch, leaning against the railing in a pose so similar to the first night of our honeymoon that I have to clench my teeth to stop my cock from getting hard.

Remembering the way I'd made her come all over my fingers under the open sky is too heated a thought, and I need to keep a clear head.

She doesn't notice me until I'm standing inches away, and I reach out to grip the wooden rail on either side of her.

"Wife," I say the words into her hair, inhaling the scent of vanilla and lingering notes of coconut sunscreen. "Don't run from me next time."

She stiffens. "There isn't going to be a next time, remember?"

Those words are all I need to confirm the suspicions that my father planted in my head. I've been thinking I'm a fool for feeling the way I do about Maria so quickly, and that fear of foolishness led me to hurt her without even knowing it.

I press my lips to her neck once before whispering, "Fuck that. I changed my mind."

Her eyes go wide when she pivots in my grasp to look at me. "What do you mean?"

"It means I think we're both stubborn as hell, and just this once, I'm willing to be the one to crack first. Because Maria, I love you."

She stares at me for a second, and I start to worry I've gone too far. Maybe this isn't the right time to tell her how I feel. Maybe?—

All thoughts vanish from my head as she leans forward and kisses me, smiling against my mouth. "I love you, too."

I wrap my arms around her waist and pull her to me, kissing her until she's breathless. "You're moving into my room, and you're going to be my wife. My real wife."

"Mmm. You promise?" she murmurs, eyes sparkling.

"I fucking swear," I growl, sucking at her lower lip .

"And this still counts, right? For my dad's loan, I mean."

I laugh, burying my face against her sweet-smelling throat. "Yes, as long as you don't mention either of our fathers again for the next few hours while I show you your new bed. Thoroughly."

Maria's answering laugh is soft and needy. "You've got a deal."