He gathered up the heavy locks and tied them in a loose bun. I watched him in the mirror in front of me, feeling too shy to meet his eyes directly. A man had never touched me like this: with tender care. There was nothing sexual about the way he was handling me, even though I was mostly naked. Warmth pulsed in the center of my chest, chasing the last of the chill from my bones.
When he was finished, he brushed a kiss over my nape, then dropped to his knees before me. His thumbs hooked through my panties, and I didn’t resist as he slowly slid them down my legs. I stepped out of them, and he took my hands in his. Wordlessly, he guided me to the tub.
I sank into the warm water, until the bubbles tickled my chin. Luca rolled up his sleeves, revealing corded forearms. Then he picked up a washcloth and dipped it into the suds. I pulled back slightly when he reached for me.
“What are you doing?” I asked, my voice strangely soft and slow. I felt sleepy and a bit drunk, so tired after everything that’d happened to me in the last twenty-four hours.
“Taking care of you,” he replied, as though it was the most natural thing in the world.
He began to wash me, and I didn’t protest. It felt strange, but good. Maybe this was normal for married couples? I didn’t know anything about what happened in private between a man and a woman. My naivete was a little embarrassing, but I was too relaxed to feel any shame.
“I’m sorry for upsetting you earlier,” he said after a while, his voice a deep rumble.
My eyes fluttered open, and I found him watching me with a heavy-lidded gaze, as though he was feeling slightly drunk too.
“When?” I asked. He’d upset me so many times since he’d kidnapped me.Upsetwasn’t even a strong enough word.
“When I insisted you take birth control,” he reminded me.
A needle of anger pricked at the peaceful cocoon that’d engulfed me, but he immediately soothed it away with a stroke of the cloth down my spine.
“I think I pushed too hard, but I need you to understand that everything I’ve done is for your own protection. We can’t risk a pregnancy right now.”
My cheeks heated at the memory of how he’d humiliated me with his erotic touch after he’d given me the shot; how he’d promised torewardme with pleasure if I behaved at the reception.
“And after that?” I asked, still too lethargic for the demand to hold any venom. “When you touched me and teased me. How was that protecting me?”
Another stroke down my spine. I melted into his touch.
He released a low, satisfied hum. “Our marriage has to seem real,” he explained calmly. “My position as heir isn’t secure if this alliance with your father doesn’t seem genuine. If you’d fought with me at the reception, everyone would know that you hate me.”
I pressed my lips together. Before the party, I had told him that I hated him. And in that moment, I’d meant it. Now, I wasn’t sure of how I felt about my mercurial husband. He’d promised that he wouldn’t harm me. He’d sworn to protect me. And he had defended me from Alberto. He was touching me with nothing but tenderness as he bathed me.
I said nothing, too tired to puzzle out my conflicted feelings toward him.
That night, he didn’t force himself on me. He didn’t wring pleasure from my unwilling body, and he didn’t selfishly claim his own. My husband simply held me, cuddling me in our bed and petting me until I fell into a deep, dreamless sleep.
Chapter 9
Luca
I’d been a married man for nearly a week, and I still barely knew my wife. I’d been busy with the family business and with moving my ailing father into our house in the city. He’d insisted on giving the Long Island mansion to “the newlyweds” since I had no plans to take a honeymoon. Tensions were still running high, and Dante hadn’t shown his face since I’d stolen his bride. If Dad found his absence at the reception odd, he didn’t remark upon it.
Most likely, he hadn’t even noticed. He’d barely made it down the stairs to join the party, and exhaustion sapped his senses.
I’d taken note of it. And I was wary that Dante hadn’t come to meet with my father once since the wedding. I had no idea what his next move might be. He hadn’t declared open war on me, but he hadn’t come back into the fold either. For all appearances, he seemed to be running his business as usual. The money was still coming in from his various enterprises, so there was no reason for my father to be suspicious.
I would never trust the sadistic bastard.
So, I’d been working long hours away from Nora, coming home to find her already asleep in our bed. I hadn’t fucked herin the harsher way I truly wanted since the night I’d taken her virginity, a delay I wasn’t keen to continue. After the reception, she’d been too traumatized by her sick cousin’s attack for me to touch her sexually. And in the days since, I’d been more cautious in how I handled her. I’d made sure she experienced pleasure when I claimed her body, but I hadn’t been fully satisfied.
I hate you.Every time her acerbic words needled my mind, they dug a little deeper. I didn’t want to share my life with a woman who hated me. And I certainly didn’t desire Nora’s disgust.
On the night she was assaulted by Alberto, she’d shown remarkable strength and resilience. And she’d never once crumpled and sobbed since I’d kidnapped her and forced her into this marriage. She’d told me that men had beaten her throughout her life, but she still possessed fire in her soul. I’d liked that defiant fire the first time I’d taken her over my knee. I didn’t want to be the one to snuff it out.
I’d been more careful with her than I would like since the reception, sparing her from my darker needs. I liked taking care of my pretty bride, but I didn’t intend to deny my desires for the rest of my life. She would learn to accept them; I would teach her to love my more deviant plans for her.
I just had to woo her outside the bedroom, and she would be more amenable to trusting me to fuck her however I pleased. This could be a happy marriage, if I could just convince my beautiful wife not to hate me.