I inspect the label with a grin, admiring the addition of the apostrophe and S. “A special editionMarina, huh?”
“This way, when you put it on, you’ll know you’re mine.”
“Say it again.”
“You’re mine,” she whispers. “Just as I’m yours.”
I kiss her again, smiling as I do. “Go to bed, cuore mio. You need your sleep.”
“Will you stay with me tonight?”
“Try and stop me.”
We curl up together in her bed, the sheets nowhere near as soft as her bare skin against mine. As we drift off together, the same thought that’s been rattling around inside my head resurface.
Arin may not be my wife.
But I want her to be.
For now, we’ll take it one day at a time.
Chapter 35
Dominic
Arin pounces on me, excitement rattling her bones. “Today’s the day!” she squeals, crawling on top of me as she peppers my cheeks with kisses.
I stir awake with a groan. “Five more minutes.”
“I have to get ready,” she says as she hops off. “Lana will be here soon to watch Felicia, and then I have to head over to the venue to help organize the models and makeup teams. God, what should I wear? A classic black dress, right? Or is that too boring? I’ll figure it out.”
“Dolcezza, it’s fivein the morning.”
“And I’ve got so much to do! I need to take a shower, do my makeup, style my hair. Photographers will beeverywhere, Dom. Everywhere! I have to make sure my debut goes perfectly, or else—”
I wrap my arm around her waist and easily pull her back to bed, kissing her cheeks, the tip of her nose, her soft lips. “Itwillgo perfectly, Arin. You need to relax.”
“Easy for you to say. I’ve got hundreds of guests coming to scrutinize my work.”
“There will be no scrutinizing, only appreciation.”
“Dom—”
“Enjoy today, Arin. You’ve done everything you can to prepare for this moment. All your hard work is about to pay off. What you really need to do today is savor every moment. Would you rather spend your debut stressed out of your mind, or having fun?”
She laughs, kissing my lips swiftly. “I hate it when you make sense.”
“So it’s an around the clock thing?”
My phone goes off, buzzing away on the bedside table. I have no idea who could be calling me this early in the morning. When I check the caller ID and see Milo’s name, I almost consider turning my phone off entirely. Then again, it could be important.
“What do you want?” I grumble.
“The Russians,” he replies, sounding a bit far away and breathless.
“You want… the Russians?”
“No! They’re making their move!”