Page 46 of DeLuca: The Devil

For?

Do as you’re told, Bellissima. You once told me about three of your favorite things. Tonight, I’ll give you all three.

I glance down at my phone and smile like an idiot. I’m curious which of my ‘favorite things’ he’s referring to. Generally, not being able to remember your husband is the most frustrating thing in the world. Sometimes, it feels like it’s right there but just out of grasp. I can almost touch it, and then it’s gone. This somehow feels exciting to me. Like a surprise I know is coming but have no clue what it is. Okay, I’m pretty sure cheesecake is one of the three. But the other two will be a complete surprise.

Looking at the clock beside the bed, I realize I have exactly one hour and three minutes to get ready. I may not know as much about Domenic as he does about me, but I do know patience is not his strong suit, so I don’t want to keep him waiting.

I rise off the bed slowly, so I don’t lose my balance and go over to the walk-in closet and spot the remote for it on the wall. I grab it and press the button and the clothing rack begins to move. Luxury is not foreign to me, I grew up with it all my life but this is a little extra even for me. I spot sexy dress after sexy dress and giggle. I go with the least revealing black dress, although it's not exactly conservative. With a plunging neckline, and a hem that will go above the middle of my thigh, I’m sure Domenic will be pleased. After I’m dressed, there’s a knock at the door.

“Come in,” I shout from the bathroom.

“Mrs. De Luca?” A female voice says.

I walk out to greet her, “Hello.”

She smiles, “Delivery for you ma’am,” she points to the bed, and I say a quiet, “Thank you.”

I walk over to the bed and find a long, black velvet jewelry box with a notecard on top.

Reading the notecard before opening the box, I can’t help but notice his beautiful writing.

The most beautiful diamonds in the world for the most beautiful woman in the world. My Bellissima. Please wear these tonight.

Yours Always,

Dom

I clutch my chest as I feel some weird feeling in my stomach. Butterflies? I open the box and find an exquisite matching set of jewelry, a diamond necklace, earrings, and a bracelet. It seems like a little much for a night at home, but I put them on anyway.

I take a deep breath as I step into the elevator. I’m nervous. My hands shake from the excitement. Is this my first date with my husband? It feels like it is, even though we aren’t going anywhere. The elevator door opens, and Domenic stands waiting for me. We both gasp at the same time. He shakes his head, “Breathtaking.”

Dom grins at me with his devilish smile, wearing black suit pants and a matching button-down shirt, the first three buttons undone, his sleeves rolled up to just below his elbows. Can a man be eye candy? Because that’s exactly what he looks like. Delicious. Strong. Edible.

He takes my hand in his, “Your first favorite thing is waiting, Bellissima.”

I follow him into the great room, in front of the fireplace, there’s a white bear rug with two plates set with my favorite dinner of tacos. I laugh, “Tacos?” I sit down on the floor.

He nods, “Is it not your favorite anymore?”

I giggle so hard my body shakes, “It is. What if I make a mess on your rug?”

Domenic shrugs as he sits down next to me, “We’ll clean it. Or buy a new one. It’s just a rug.”

He gestures to my glass, “That’s a margarita. I’m told women like it with tacos.”

I lay the napkin on my lap and dig into the tacos. They are so good. I laugh as I wipe my face and take a drink of my margarita, “The problem with tacos is nobody looks civilized while eating them.”

After taking a drink and setting his glass down, he says, “You do. Somehow, you are graceful and elegant no matter what you do, Bellissima.”

We sit and talk casually while we laugh and talk about everything, although nothing important. It’s relaxed and feels right.

He grins, “Next favorite thing, baby.”

He rises from the floor quickly, I expect him to give me his hand but he scoops me into his arms, I laugh, “I can walk you big ogre.”

Domenic smirks, “I know.”

He carries me to the dining room table where dozens of different cheesecakes are laid out with each of their names displayed with a little card in front.

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