Page 31 of Till Death Do Us Part

Until death do us part.

Death saved me once; maybe it will save me again.

I looked beyond his broad shoulders at the luxurious bedroom around us. “There’s only one bed.”

“I’m sleeping beside my wife.” He tilted his head. “No fucking. You have my word. It won’t be easy.” His lips quirked to a grin. “Your brother warned me that you could be difficult. I told him that I’m up for the challenge.”

He took a step back and by the sight of the massive bulge in his pants, he was up for what wasn’t going to happen.

Aléjandro went on, “The maids should have your things in the bathroom. After you change, I’ll shower and come to bed. Maybe you should already be asleep.”

Taking his cue to walk away, I made my way to the bathroom and closed the door. I contemplated turning the lock in the handle but decided against it. I’d felt his strength as he captured my wrists. A simple handle lock wouldn’t keep Aléjandro out if he wanted in.

I didn’t know what to think of the woman in my reflection. Was I brave? Strong? Weak? A terrible person? A challenge and difficult—to quote Dario?

To Aléjandro’s credit, he had been nothing but kind during our wedding celebration, even trying to make me more comfortable with traditions I knew nothing about. Maybe he believed he could woo me into changing my mind.

Of course he did.

Aléjandro was an egotistical, arrogant male who thought every woman should fall prostrate at his feet. His words came back to me. ‘I won’t fuck you, Mia. Not tonight. When I do, you’ll be begging me for it.’

If this marriage was a contest of willpower, Aléjandro would learn I wouldn’t be easily dissuaded. If I’d learned anything over the last ten years, it was to stay strong in my resolve.

As I plucked hairpins from my hair, I recalled the way my new husband held me as we danced, as well as his ability to make me smile. He was right that I wasn’t frightened during our reception. I’d spent the lead-up to our wedding being scared. No, I’d spent the last ten years minus the months since Rocco’s death terrified.

Aléjandro wasn’t Rocco.

Intellectually, I knew that.

Apparently, it was more than my mind that knew it. The physical reaction my body had to Aléjandro was ten, twenty, no… one hundred times more than I’d had for Rocco in years or ever.

Shaking my head, I promised myself I wouldn’t back down.

Maybe one day.

First, Aléjandro needed to prove that he wasn’t like my first husband. It wasn’t fair. He wasn’t the one who hurt me. Life wasn’t fair. If it was, I wouldn’t be remarried. I’d warned him.

Wearing a white satin and lace nightgown and the lace panties from my wedding outfit, I opened the bathroom door.

Aléjandro was sitting out on the balcony. Slowly I moved closer. The music from below was still going strong. There was a glass with amber liquid in his grip and an open bottle of tequila on the table.

“I’m done,” I said, standing in the doorway.

He scanned me up and down. “You could have chosen something less sexy if you were planning on me keeping my word.”

I crossed my arms over my breasts. “Classic blame-the-victim.”

Aléjandro scoffed as he stood. “Don’t worry, Mia. I am a man of my word.”

The idea of reaching out and experiencing another kiss was on my mind as he entered the bedroom. I couldn’t deny that despite his arrogant attitude, I found him attractive. He brushed by me, leaving the scent of sandalwood and tequila in his wake.

Turning, I watched Aléjandro remove his shirt, pulling it over his wide shoulders. Beneath the shirt, his tanned skin was littered with scars, and yet his chest was solid, and his abdomen defined. Dark hair matching the color on his head filled a patch upon hard pecs. Another line of dark hair trailed from below his belly button to beneath his boxer briefs. Aléjandro removed a second holster from his back and a third from his ankle.

Now that his shoes, socks, and pants were missing, the erection I’d felt against my stomach was even more pronounced beneath the silk boxers. Wearing only those boxer shorts, he lifted the glass he’d taken from the balcony and drained the remaining tequila. His orbs met mine. “Don’t wait up.”

With that, he disappeared into the bathroom.

As I climbed into the bed, my thoughts went to the man behind the closed door.

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