Page 21 of Finn

My mother put in so much work in a short amount of time, and I’m grateful to her for it. Was it the wedding of my dreams? No. But it was the wedding of hers, and seeing her happy makes me happy.

“I loved it, Mama. Thank you so much.”

When it’s my father’s turn to hug me, he leans in to whisper to me. “I saw Orlando talking to you. I’m sorry I didn’t get there in time. I never imagined he’d have the gall to show up in his father’s place.”

“It’s okay, Papa. Finn took care of it.”

I kiss his cheek and step back next to Finn.

“Good night. Lilliana, thank you for a wonderful evening.” Finn shakes my father’s hand, then hugs my mother before leading me out of the ballroom to the elevators.

When we step inside the mirrored elevator, Finn swipes his key card to allow us to access the penthouse level of the hotel.

“Fancy,” I tell him. “I hope it has two rooms.”

“Ah. What every groom longs to hear on his wedding night.” He shoots me a smirk. “Don’t worry, princess. There’re two rooms.”

I show no outward sign that I’m relieved he didn’t assume that just because we’re married now, he’s entitled to my body. But inside my chest, the pressure lessens.

“Is Orlando Farina going to be a problem?” he asks, staring me in the face as we ascend to our floor.

“Hopefully not, but don’t be surprised if he has designs on port control as well.”

“That’s not what I was talking about.”

I didn’t think it was, but I’m not about to tell him my sad story. Instead, I point to the small bandage on his face. “Is whoever gave you that cut above your eye going to be a problem?”

Finn laughs and shakes his head. “No. But nice deflection.”

His lip is quirked in a half smile as the doors to the suite open, and he waves his arm, motioning for me to exit the elevator.

“You’re not going to carry me over the threshold, husband? This marriage is already a disappointment.”

“Alessia, you and I both know you’d rip my balls off if I tried.”

I shrug and make my way past the large marble table with a bottle of chilled champagne and a note, probably from the hotel, congratulating us on our nuptials. The suite is dimly lit, and I head to the large window overlooking the city.

“It’s almost a shame we’re only here for the night,” I say, taking in the view of the Boston Harbor.

Through the reflection of the window, my eyes are fixed on Finn walking up behind me to look out the window. He looks like a powerful ruler gazing over his kingdom. I suppose it won’t be much longer until it’s all under his control. Well, our control.

Though it pains me, I have to admit we make a good-looking couple. He certainly knows how to wear a tux well, with the tie hanging loosely around his neck and the first couple buttons undone at his neck. A sudden urge to taste the skin there takes me by surprise. My husband is attractive, there’s no denying it, but mixing business with pleasure has always been a hard no for me. I was involved with a man in this life before, and I have no intention of ever going there again.

My next realization hits me like a brick to the head. My mother helped me get this dress on. There are about a thousand tiny buttons up the back, and unless I want to cut myself out of it, I’m going to need help.

“I have a little problem,” I admit to Finn, and his dark-blue gaze slides to me. I swipe my hair over my shoulder, exposing the long row of buttons I have no way of reaching.

Finn nods in understanding, and his long fingers begin to deftly push each button through the fabric. I watch him concentrate, and when the first several have been undone, I feel the front of my dress loosen.

“That should be enough,” I tell him when he’s halfway down the row.

He stops, but his hand remains on the next button, staring at the exposed skin. Our gazes collide through the reflection of the large window. He holds my stare as he undoes the next one, then the next, as though daring me to stop him. Or daring me not to. My breath stalls in my lungs, but I make no move to pull away. I’m caught in the trance of his heated stare and can’t seem to find the wherewithal to break free.

Another button is undone.

Then another.

The featherlight touch of Finn’s knuckles begins to travel up my spine, sending goose bumps over my entire body.

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