Page 12 of Reckless Love

Why did the idea of destroying my wedding dress make me hesitate? It’s not like I’d picked it out.

But I would have.

The style was me. Elegant, classic, and simple, with just the right amount of sparkle on the dress. It was like Warwick had reached into my head and plucked out my fantasy down to the freaking flowers. Even the diamond band was quietly understated in a way that I adored.

I wasn’t a girl who’d wanted to be the center of attention in front of hundreds, or even dozens, of people. I would’ve picked a quiet ceremony with just my grandparents.

I couldn’t even say there were friends I’d invite, because the last several years of taking care of my grandparents left me even more isolated than normal. The few friendships I’d managed to form at the beginning of college faded as I traded my time at clubs and parties for chemo and palliative care.

And I wouldn’t have had it any other way. My grandparents had stepped up to care for me when they should’ve been able to live a child-free life. They’d raised me, and I was honored to care for them when the time came.

But damn if it wasn’t lonely.

Sniffling, I lifted my eyes to the mirror once more. “Get it together, Sia.”

The soft knock on the bathroom door was polite. “Is everything all right?”

I glanced at the clock on the wall, happily ticking away the remaining seconds of my sanctuary, and realized I’d been in the bathroom for over fifteen minutes.

Knowing I couldn’t put this off any longer, I turned and opened the bathroom door.

Seeing Warwick on the other side of the door wasn’t a surprise. What left me speechless was that he’d lost his shirt and undone the button of his black pants.

I’d seen paparazzi shots of Warwick on different beach vacations—because of course I’d googled him for hours after learning he was the man responsible for the demise of Ice by Winters. The man clearly worked out. But seeing it in the literal flesh?

Damn.

His olive-toned skin was stretched taut over hard muscles, his chest gleaming and solid. I had the stupidest urge to poke one of his pecs to see if it was real. To trace the contours of his abs and test their firmness. The thin trail of dark black hair that disappeared into the waistband of his pants made me ache to see more.

“Alessia.” His tone had no inflection, but it sounded like a gunshot through my ogling.

I pressed a hand to my chest. “I’m sorry.”

His lips barely twitched. “What for?”

Staring at you like the Greeks sculpted you to resemble Adonis? “Taking so long?”

The tip of his tongue flicked out to wet his lips, and why was that simple action mesmerizing?

I shook my head. “I can’t get out of this dress.”

He gave a slow nod. “Would you like help?”

“Yes, please,” I replied in a small voice as I turned so he could see the back.

Warm fingers ghosted against my shoulders, and I sucked in a soft breath at the jolt that echoed in my bones. Gradually, after Warwick undid several of the buttons, the gown started to loosen. I had to clutch the front of the dress to my chest to keep it from slipping.

It was silly and futile, but I was desperate to cling onto the last pieces of modesty while I could.

Warwick cleared his throat. “I’m finished.”

“Thank you.” I started to step away, but his hands landed on my shoulders.

I froze, my heart hammering in my chest. My knees shook when I felt his chest press against my back. His hands slid down my arms, and his breath feathered across my shoulder.

“Wh-What are you doing?” I stammered, certain he’d hear my heart about to gallop through my chest.

He brushed the barest of kisses on my shoulder. “Seducing my wife.” He pressed another kiss to the side of my throat while reaching around to help my fingers release the dress.

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