Page 17 of Roman and Jules
She set the pale orchids on the kitchen island then lowered to the floor to knead the dog’s silky, floppy ears. The dog was ecstatic to see her, and reared up to her lick her face with a rough tongue, and then, after Roman’s warning shout, bounded over to him to lick him across the cheek before rolling playfully over the ground between them.
“I see why you brought me home,” she said, straightening. “You needed someone to take care of the dog. This guy’s gonna get huge!”
Mercutio was already a giant. Roman pushed himself off the ground. “I found him at the animal foundation. He’s part Labrador, too, so that makes him more a mutt. They couldn’t find him a home so I took him in.”
So hedidtake in strays. It made her suspicious that he’d done the same for her, but it also felt oddly comforting.
“Let me show you where you’ll be staying…while we’re married.” He took her hand and she followed him through the kitchen. Someone had been using these luxury, high-tech appliances—a luscious cake rested on an elaborate cake stand, next to clever little pastries and other culinary delights.
“Standard bachelor fare, huh?” she asked. “You’ve got a chef, don’t you?”
He shrugged and plucked up an orange from a white ceramic bowl and brought her past the wall and into an open hall. She swallowed when she saw the setup. His place was long and narrow, so long that on one side of the walkway, an indoor bowling lane ran down the length of it. It wasn’t one of those 70’s styles either, but was definitely part of the classy décor with its soft glowing lights.
He’d been clever with his use of space. On the other side of her, he’d put up the least amount of walls possible. They acted like dividers for each open room, like elaborate bookshelves set in a library that didn’t quite reach the lofty ceiling. And none of those walls were normal in the least—they were architectural masterpieces. The one between the kitchen and game room had a fireplace set against a painted pattern of perfectly symmetrical ovals. The living room boasted an aquarium with a TV lodged into the other side of the wall. This led them to a bedroom that was, sensibly, closed in—with padded walls no less. She wondered where she’d be staying.
Reaching the farthest end of the suite, she saw a soft gray couch and a grand piano in a more classical sitting area where the cathedral ceiling sloped down to give it a cozier feel. Glass doors led to a balcony outside. This was also where the bowling lane began, and she picked up a bowling ball and tested it in her hands. “All right, you can tell me. Is this place really yours?”
“No,” he joked. “I thought I’d take you to my ex’s.”
She laughed and set down the heavy ball as she stared around her. Ty was rich, but his place was more subtle. His cousin was much more creative with his use of funds. Roman was clearly proud of how he’d decorated. “Come this way—this is the best part.”
Little Mercutio trailed their steps as Roman shoved open the glass sliding door and brought her to the terrace outside where the Greek-inspired décor reappeared with mosaic tiles underfoot and great white pillars holding up a vast covered deck. Lamps designed to masquerade as relics lent a soft glow over sumptuous and comfortable furniture, but it was nature that lent the deck most of its beauty. They were at the level of the great palms where they spread out their branches, so that the leaves pushed through the balcony in a jungle of greenery.
Jules could spend hours out here in this treehouse, in the midst of the action but still high above everything to feel secure. She moved to the pillared railing to stare at the magnificent view of the Grecian hotel flooded with gold lights. Guests milled in the plaza below. Their perch was too secluded to hear their separate conversations. The palms had a lot to do with that. She noticed lavish taupe curtains could be drawn to lend further privacy.
Roman flipped a switch on the side of the pillar. It lit up a fire pit. The terrace had everything—a raised jacuzzi mimicked one found in a Grecian bathhouse. A bubbling fountain made up its center and it glowed with an inner blue light that reflected over rough white stone that frosted the exterior of the jacuzzi hot tub like fondue. The stairs leading up to it were the layers of a wedding cake. It was made for privacy with stone archways above it.
“I think you have a problem, Roman,” she said. “You’re never going to be able to get rid of me.” She smiled to show that she wasn’t serious, but the warm look he gave her showed her that he didn’t care if she was.
“C’mon, let’s get you set up.” He went back inside and she followed a little reluctantly. If he had a hammock, she’d gladly camp outside. She wasn’t sure the novelty would ever wear off. The gray puppy ran up against her legs, almost bowling her over. Roman smiled at that. “Mercutio likes you. Now don’t go stealing my dog.” He ducked into his room and brought out a pile of blankets and some sheets.
She hazarded a guess as to their sleeping arrangements. “You’re putting me on the couch with the dog?”
“I’llsleep on the couch with the dog,” he corrected. “You’re going in the padded room.” He winked at her. “I don’t want you to escape the asylum.”
He could jest all he wanted, but she knew she was getting the better end of this bargain, and once again she tiredly pushed her frenzied thoughts from what she was doing. She settled onto the couch while she waited. He threw his bedding on the cushions next to her and disappeared into his room to bring out a t-shirt and some basketball shorts this time. “This is all I’ve got.” He pressed them into her hands. “We can pick up your stuff in the morning.”
She stared up at this man, who’d been virtually a stranger to her a few hours earlier, his broad shoulders as he leaned over her, and his devilishly charming good looks. What was she doing as his wife? It was weird. There was no getting around it. She’d made a life-altering decision that night. No matter how much she pretended that this meant nothing, in the eyes of the law—and everyone else for that matter—this was real.
Jules took the pajamas and got off the couch so he could take it. The dog followed her, sniffing at her heels as she walked into the bedroom, which also happened to be a masterpiece of design in shades of gold, ivory and powder blue. A softly glowing chandelier smoldered over a king-sized bed, a velvety couch, and soft rugs. Sliding doors led to a marbled bathroom trimmed with gold.
“Oh!” Roman shouted from the sitting room where he was setting up his bed. “Mercutio can be out here with me…”
Feeling mischievous, she shut the door on him. And yes, she took the dog with her, only because he’d told her not to and she was feeling sassy. For the moment… but she also needed some comforting. She led Mercutio to the couch and stopped short when she saw herself in the mirror. Her dress had shrunk in the rain. The veil flowed around her head. The flowers she’d already lost in the kitchen, but Roman’s ring still slid loosely around her finger.
Straightening, she put on her pajamas with a sigh. This was not how she thought she’d spend this night… or her wedding night for that matter. Roman’s clothes hung on her. She didn’t exactly look like a bride.
Suddenly desperate to reach out to a friend—maybe not to confess what an idiot she’d been, exactly, but just to check in—she reached for her purse and couldn’t find her phone. She gasped, her nerves feeling all bunched up like tangled-up yarn. The stress of the day accumulated in that one moment and rushed her all at once. She was in the house of someone she hardly knew, without her phone. No one would know where she’d gone. Jules burst out of his room.
She must have looked crazed because when Roman glanced up from setting up the couch, he laughed. “Did you decide to keep me company?”
She blushed and shook her head hurriedly. “My phone—I left it behind somewhere!”
He sat heavily down on his couch and peeled off his shirt right in front of her. She tried not to stare, though he clearly thought nothing of it. This was just a nightly ritual, but the Greek god had a sculpted torso to match his devilishly handsome face, and it wasn’t helping her keep her mind on her phone. Roman leaned back into the cushions, rearranging his arm under his head. His biceps flexed as he rooted for a more comfortable position. “We’ll find it… if not, I’ll buy you a new one.”
“You’ll…?”
“Man and wife, right? The officiator made me a man tonight,” he muttered into his pillow. When she didn’t leave, he peered up at her. “Hey honey, what are you trying to tell me? You like me better than the dog?”
