Page 68 of Perfectly Wedded

“Fine,” I say, sucking air through my teeth. I’m reluctant to leave her alone, but I have to since she needs to change into her swimsuit. “I’ll change in the bathroom. But leave the door unlocked, okay? Just as a precaution. I won’t come in unless you’re unresponsive.”

She nods, then stops me at the door. “Vale. Thank you. I’ll make sure it’s a night to remember.” Then she reaches up and gives me a kiss on the cheek, flashing me a flirty smile.

My heart knocks against my chest. Heaven help me, I can’t give in to her tonight.

The bedroom door is still closed when I finish changing, and I can hear her rummaging through her suitcase, which means she hasn’t fainted yet. I climb into the hot tub, keeping my back to the sliding door.

A few minutes later, the door slides open, and she comes out with a towel wrapped around her. From the look on her face, she’s debating whether she wants to drop the towel. I thought I’d made it clear how I feel about her, that her body is utter perfection to me, but apparently I’ve not made it clear enough.

“Do you need me to leave?” I ask. “Because I don’t want you to feel uncomfortable around me. Just for the record, since I’ve already seen you in a swimsuit and think your body is incredibly perfect, I’m hardly the problem.”

Her eyes flick briefly to me with a smile of gratitude before she looks at her bare toes. “The problem isn’t you. It’s me.”

“That sounds strangely like a breakup text.”

“It’s not. Just old baggage. Anthony was always so critical of my body since I wasn’t a size zero. And since my accident, it’s only gotten worse. I’m softer. Less in shape. It’s not that I care so much—the voice in my head still tells me I’m not good enough. That somehow I’ll never be enough.”

“Sloan,” I say gently, but firmly. “You’re so beautiful, and you don’t even realize it.” I wish she’d believe me. But even more, I wish she’d find the strength to believe it for herself.

She glances down at her towel. “I had no choice but to wear a different suit, since the swimsuit I wore snorkeling is still wet.”

“Is it more revealing?”

She nods. “A little.”

I cover my eyes. “Is this better?”

“You don’t have to do that for me.”

“You have ten seconds to talk yourself into it until I drop my hand.”

“Vale.” She peels my hand away, looks at me over the rim ofthe tub. “You don’t have to cover your eyes. I need to do this...for me.If I can’t be brave in front of my husband, I’ll never have the courage.”

The wordsmy husbandsurge through me. In the past, she always used that word like it was part of the charade,but this time feels different. She’s starting to believe that our agreement is more than temporary.

She glances at her feet. “I’m trying to accept I have scars, even if they’re ugly.”

“Wait—what scars?” I ask, suddenly wondering how I don’t know about this.

“From the accident.” She pulls open her towel just enough for me to see a large scar that cuts across the side of her abdomen. “I stopped wearing this suit because of it. It used to be a favorite and I thought I’d wear it again someday, but I haven’t. I only threw it in my bag because I needed an extra. Then I tried it on tonight and saw my scar again and was afraid you’d find me...” She pauses. “Repulsive.”

“What?” I nearly choke on the word. “I wouldneverthink that. If you want to know the truth, I find you devastatingly attractive. Whatever worries you have about your body, that’s not the way I see you. I think you’re more beautifulwithscars.”

She laughs in disbelief.

“Sloan,” I whisper. “If you knew the thoughts I have about you...” I shake my head, my voice gravelly and low. “You might not ever come near me again.”

“Really?” she asks with a furrowed brow.

“Yes,really.”

She tilts her head and studies me. “I didn’t know you felt...” Her voice drops off.

“Attracted to you?” I finish.

She nods.

“Well, you are my wife,” I say with a smile.

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