Page 61 of Dante
"Oh, yes I am. We both know that if I even think you're going to leave me, I will have no reservations about committing murder. And I have backup. My brother is a cop."
"Hmm." Tilting her face up, he brushed his lips against hers and ignored the flash of the camera. "Then I suppose I'd better behave myself and stick with you."
Wrapping her hands around his neck, she leaned in and deepened the kiss. "I suppose you'd better."
She was introduced to several of the wives who were present and found herself welcomed into their exclusive clique. Very soon she found herself laughing and having a conversation with some of the most powerful women in society. The incident with Magda was forgotten as she answered questions regarding the upcoming wedding.
And she had fun. It was not a setting she was accustomed to, but they made her feel at home.
Later when they were at his place, he carried her up the stairs and proceeded to massage her aching insteps.
"Am I to expect this kind of treatment every night?"
Putting away her shoes, he rose to take off her clothes.
"Don't get used to it," he warned lightly. "There will come a time when I'm going to forget you're here."
He laughed at the look on her face. "Or not."
"I doubt you will." Wrapping her hands around his neck, she went on her toes to join her lips to his. "Make love to me."
His eyes darkened at the request, and he hurried to comply.
'Living the American Dream'. Their story made the front pages of several popular magazines and fed the readers with tidbits of their backgrounds. The wedding in December was highly anticipated of course. And invitations to the ceremony were coveted with only a few people being invited. The ceremony was to be small and intimate, with the reception open to several hundred people.
A wedding planner and her full complement of staff were hired because Dante insisted on her not doing anything. She was six months pregnant and finally showing. They were having a girl and had already decided on the name. Chloe Emma Livingston. He was also adamant that she should stop working.
"I'm quite fine. The nausea is manageable and hardly there anymore. Besides, you need the help. Where are you going to find someone who can put up with your arrogance and rudeness at this point?"
He had glared at her for a full two minutes before responding. "I want you at home. The doctor said your blood pressure is elevated."
"Slightly," she reminded him. "Please don't ask me to quit my job, I love working and I know you're going to say I don't need the money, but I need to feel useful."
"You're planning a wedding and decorating the nursery," he pointed out in frustration.
"I'm not planning my wedding. An entire team of planners are doing that and you won't allow me to lift a finger to do anything in the nursery."
"We pay people to do both things."
"There you go."
He had conceded but warned that any sign of her feeling uncomfortable or getting sick, and that was it. "I mean it Courtney."
She had won the victory for now but knew he would be watching her like a hawk. Her status had changed at the office as well. People who had formerly tolerated her now treated her with the utmost respect. 'The quartet' as she liked to refer to the receptionists were almost obsequious in their dealings with her. Donald and she were still on friendly terms, but he was a little aloof and distant. He had established boundaries, and she understood perfectly, even if she was disappointed. She was engaged to the CEO of the company which meant she was off-limits.
On a brilliant yet cold day in December, she tied the knot and said her vows in front of fifty people in the prestigious St. Patrick's Cathedral on the second Sunday in December.
The reception was held at the Regal Hotel where the papers reported that the bride was spectacularly beautiful wearing her ice-blue wedding gown made of delicate Venetian lace and designed with her pregnancy in mind. It was also reported that the groom, looking resplendent in dark blue tux appeared to be very much in love with his bride and did not leave her side for an inch.
She was officially Mrs. Dante Livingston. And was dazed by the wonder of it all. One reporter asked her if she ever thought this was what she had envisioned for herself and she had laughinglytold him a resounding no. And it was true. She did not care about the money of course and tried her best not to think of it. The lawyers had been around several times and a prenup had been signed without hesitation on her part.
She who had spent her formative years living in a drab and dreary group home. She was married to a very powerful and important man, one who loved her and was not afraid to take her on and the baby she was carrying. It seemed surreal.
"I love you," she told him as they danced their first dance as husband and wife. He was wearing her ring, a simple gold band with diamonds around the edges.
He stared at her quizzically. "What brought that on?"
"It's my wedding day and I'm entitled to tell my husband that I love him."
