Page 42 of His to Keep
“I may not have wanted this, but we’re married now, and I want to make the best of it.”
Gio smiles, his eyes gleaming with genuine pleasure. “So do I. Where do we start?”
“You’re the one with all the experience, aren’t you?” I sass.
Gio grimaces. “I’m not sure I like being painted as a man whore.”
I lift my right shoulder in an indolent shrug. “If the cap fits.”
“Let’s not rush into anything tonight,” Gio suggests. “How about we get you into a nice warm bath and take it from there.”
Preferring showers, I don’t see the appeal of soaking in a tub, but I appreciate Gio’s trying to be thoughtful here.
“Okay,” I tell him. “That would be nice.”
Gio
The scent of mandarin and bergamot fills the air from the oil I poured into the running water. I stare into the bathtub and frown.
“It’s not making bubbles.”
“That’s because it’s an oil, not bubble bath.” Eilidh turns her back to me. “Can you help me with the zipper?”
I step up behind her and quickly unzip her, knowing that if I take my time, if I touch her for too long, I won’t be able to resist taking things further. Claiming her as my bride for the first time is something I want to savor. Eilidh deserves to be treated like a queen tonight and I’m not about to let my animal urges ruin that.
“I didn’t get a chance to tell you how beautiful you look in this dress,” I tell her as she shimmies out of it.
“It’s incredible. I can’t believe you did this for me. I mean, you must have commissioned the dress before we even met.”
Shrugging, I pretend like it’s no big deal, but I went to a lot of effort. When I researched Eilidh’s background I looked at hundreds of photos of her. It was clear she shared a close bond with her mother.
“You had a picture of your mom on Instagram. It was her wedding day. You captioned it with a comment about wanting to look as beautiful as she did when you got married.”
“I did?” Eilidh’s eyebrows lift in surprise. “Fuck! I forgot I even had social media accounts.”
In only a lacy bra and panties, Eilidh bends to pick up the dress. She holds it out to me. “I’d like to keep it. Can you hang it up for me?” She grins wickedly. “Perhaps our daughter can wear it one day. Griselda Morag will look great in it.”
“You are not naming our children,” I say with a shake of the head.
Eilidh shoots me a fake pout. Leaving her to remove her underwear and get into the tub, I take the dress through to the bedroom and find a hanger for it in the walk-in closet. The fabric is delicate, so I take care hanging it up. Despite Eilidh’s jokes about names, I can see us with a daughter one day, a gorgeous little girl with her mother’s big brown eyes. It would make me so proud to walk her down the aisle wearing this gown. Damn! I feel like I’m about to tear up. When did I become so sentimental?
A knock at the door distracts me from my thoughts. I go to open it and find Rosalia with a champagne bottle tucked under her arm, two glasses in one hand and a plate with a large slab of chocolate cake in the other.
“I wasn’t sure if this was appropriate,signore, but…”
“It’s perfect.”
Thanking Rosalia, I take the cake and champagne from her and return to the bathroom. Eilidh is lying back in the tub, her eyes closed, a look of total serenity on her face. I kneel next to the bath and set the plate and two glasses down on the floor before popping the champagne cork. Although I do my best to minimize the sound it makes, Eilidh sits up, looking startled. When she sees the source of the sudden noise, she smiles.
“Champagne?”
I pour a glass and hand it to her. “And chocolate cake.”
Eilidh leans out of the tub and grins when she sees the large piece of cake. “You’re spoiling me, Mr. Volante.”
“You’re worth it, Mrs. Volante.”
Fuck! Saying her name sends a shiver down my spine. I raise my glass. “To my beautiful bride.”
