“Your dress is beautiful,” the air stewardess serving me says.
“Thank you,” I reply quietly, my eyes sliding towards Valentino.
Even though he is looking down I can see his lips curl upwards mockingly.
Bastard!
Many painful hours later of me staring with unseeing eyes at the pages of magazines I have no interest in, the journey is finally over.
We are met at the airport and driven to a beautiful old hotel full of faded grandeur in the middle of the city. By now, my dress is a crushed mess and I’m sure I look terrible, but Europeans must be of a different temperament because everyone we meet pretends everything is perfectly normal.
A bellboy dressed in a blue and gold uniform ushers us into the most opulent suite I’ve ever seen. It is almost a mini palace with tall ceilings, luxury stone decorations, gilded mirrors, and two stupendous antique chandeliers. There are massive bouquets of flowers everywhere and a bottle of champagne on ice awaits on the low coffee table.
While Valentino speaks on the phone, I head to the bedroom. I can’t help but admire the exquisiteness of it all. I touch the rich curtains and sigh with pleasure. I don’t know the exact extent of Valentino’s wealth, but it’s rumored that his riches multiply so quickly that he himself cannot know what he is worth.
The door closes behind me and I jump. I whirl around to see Valentino walking into the room, his shirt is unbuttoned halfway down his chest. It’s incredibly obvious what he wants… But every cell in my body screams, NO. The inevitability of sex with him has haunted me from the very moment I was ‘persuaded’ to wed him, but now that the moment is here, I am convinced I would rather die than sleep with this monster.
“I will not share a bed with you.”
The room rings with my words. His dangerous eyes move towards me, and I begin to tremble, but I hold my head high.
“Why not?” His voice is calm and his posture relaxed. I hate how unaffected he seems, how in control. How damn unflustered.
“Because I will not.” I glance haughtily at the king-sized bed. “I won’t-”
“You won't what?” Valentino saunters toward me, like a predator toward its prey.
He stops in front of me, and to my shame, once again, my body completely and utterly betrays me and reacts lustfully to his presence.
“I won’t have sex with you,” I spit, staring into his expressionless gunmetal eyes. “I… I find you… repulsive.”
“Repulsive?” A corner of his lips tugs upwards. “That’s a rather strong word, my little pearl.” He takes another step towards me, caging me against the wall. I can hear my heart going wild in my chest, and I fear he can hear it too. Suddenly, he touches me. One hand sliding into my hair to angle my headwhile his other hand roams my dress, eliciting responses I never knew my body to be capable of.
“Especially,” he continues silkily, “when I can see the way your body reacts, when I can smell you.” He sniffs the air critically. “Hints of honey, musk and laurel. Fresh, but a little too virginal. Needs seasoning to reach a complete flavor profile.”
I press myself against the wall. “You’re a horrible man!”
To my shock, he drops his head and captures my mouth with his. I gasp, and he slips his tongue into my mouth and tastes me. His tongue hooks mine, pulls it into his mouth and sucks it. This kiss is nothing, nothing like the chaste kiss back in the cathedral. Pleasure spreads like wildfire through my body and I think the kiss will go on forever, but the moment a moan drops from my lips, he pulls away putting several feet between us.
I am astounded.
Ashamed and breathing heavily, I catch his gaze, expecting to see mockery. Instead, his eyes are full of rage, which quite frankly, I do not understand, I am the one who has been assaulted here.
“Enjoy your solitude, Madame. I’m sure I’ll find a willing body elsewhere in the city of love.Bonne nuit.”
I am struck dumb as I watch him walk out of the room. For a full minute, I’m too astonished to do anything, then I fall on the big lonely bed. Good God! My heart is beating so freaking fast I must surely be at risk of a massive coronary attack alone in Paris.
Chapter Three
VALENTINO
Francesca fucking Barbieri.
There is a growl rumbling deep in my throat, but my cock is on fire as I walk out of the room and leave her in her crumpled swathe of pearls, tulle, and silk. No bride has looked as good as she did when she stepped onto the aisle. A damn goddess, no less. And ever since, fucking hours later, I’ve been tormented by the need to rip that damn dress off, throw her against the nearest bed or wall, and fuck her until the fiery hate in her eyes consumes me.
Great! It’s only the first night of our ‘honeymoon’, and I’m already going crazy. Every encounter with her leaves me this way: horny, unsatisfied, crazy, and filled with impotent rage. I’ve got a whole week of blue balls to look forward to.
I find you repulsive.