Page 18 of Reckless Love

“Pleasure to meet you, Mrs. Forrester,” Cliff said with a grin. “Should you need anything, please don’t hesitate to ask. And congratulations to you both.”

Wick angled us so he didn’t bang my knees as he carried me inside. The man seated behind the front desk jumped up and hurried to the far elevator, swiping a keycard over the panel. “Welcome home, Mr. Forrester.”

“Thanks, Tom. How are the kids?” Wick asked, still taking his time and still holding me.

“Doing great. Thanks again for the Yankees tickets. The view from your private box was phenomenal. It really made Grant’s birthday.” Tom winked. “And I definitely got some ‘cool Dad’ points.”

“Glad it worked out,” Wick replied with a smile as the elevator doors chimed open. “Tom, this is my wife, Alessia.”

Tom’s green eyes lit up, his smile beaming. “Congratulations to you both. You caught a great one, Mrs. Forrester. Please let me know if you need anything at all.”

“The rest of Alessia’s things should have been delivered,” Wick stated, stepping into the elevator car but holding the doors open with his foot.

Tom nodded. “Yes, sir. We brought them up a few hours ago and handed them off to Lucy.”

“Thank you, Tom.” Wick moved his foot and let the doors slide shut. The car instantly began ascending.

“Lucy?” I asked.

Wick turned, his nose almost bumping mine. “She’s my—our—housekeeper. I wanted to make sure everything was set up for you as you might need it in your rooms.”

“My… rooms?” Surely I hadn’t heard him right.

His gaze shuttered. “Yes. I arranged for you to have your own bedroom, office, and sitting room. I thought it might make you more comfortable while we get to know one another.”

I blinked, stunned. “You don’t want to share a bedroom with me? The contract said…”

Wick’s smile turned playful. “Sweetheart, I’d gladly share anything you want, but I’m not a monster. And I don’t plan on sleeping with you again until you ask, and if you’re in my bed, there will be a lot more than sleeping going on.”

My cheeks flamed crimson as I gaped at him. “You’re not going to force me to?—”

His eyes flashed. “I’ll never force you to do anything.”

Except by my grandfather’s company for pennies on the dollar to force me into marrying you in the first place.

“A lot of the verbiage in the contract is provided by the organization,” he added. “If spouses are allowed to retreat to their own separate corners, then the likelihood of the marriage lasting becomes significantly less.”

I rolled my bottom lip between my teeth. “And you’re not worried about that?”

The corner of his mouth hooked up in a smirk. “No, I’m not.”

The elevator doors slid apart, revealing a foyer that opened up into a great room with massive windows overlooking the length of Central Park. The decor was done in muted beiges, golds, and whites. It was, in a word, spectacular.

But it wasn’t the views that had my attention.

No, that was all my husband, who gently set me on my feet.

“Welcome home, Mrs. Forrester,” he murmured, leaning in to kiss my cheek.

I was still reeling from his revelation. “I don’t understand.”

He smirked. “Well, this is the place you and I now reside. Most people call it a home, but?—”

“You don’t want to sleep with me?” I cut him off. My heart kicked in my chest. “Did I… Did I do something wrong? Was last night not good?”

Oh, god. Had I been so horrible in bed that he couldn’t even share a room with me?

“What? Fuck, no.” His dark eyes were blazing as he took my hands. “Alessia, you were utter perfection, and I have no doubt that every sexy inch of your body was made for me.”

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