Page 19 of Wicked Vows
This house doesn’t need help with ghosts.It has its own.I don’t voice the thought.The last thing I want is for Nico to think I’m nuts and hear voices that aren’t there.
“Can’t wait.I was beginning to think you were all work and no play.”I take a sip of my coffee.
“Nico doesn’t know the meaning of the word fun,” Marco says.
“Are you still here?”I ask, and Nico rewards me with a full belly laugh.
“Tell you what.Today I’m all yours.”
“Really?”
“Why don’t I take you somewhere?Get you out of this house for a bit.”
I throw my arms around his neck and kiss his face.Getting away from here is exactly what I need.
Marco’s lips screw up as though he ate something sour.The way he watches Nico I can't tell if he hates him or hero worships him.
“Where are you taking me?”I question as I get into the passenger side of my husband’s cherry red McLaren 720 Spider.
“It’s a surprise.”
“You have zero idea,” I tease.
He folds into the driver side and revs the engine before peeling out of the driveway.
Chapter Eight
Istareattheview from Nico’s penthouse in the city.“I feel like I can see the whole world from here.”
“Not quite.”He coils an arm around me and kisses my right temple.
“This is nice,” I whisper.
“What is?”
“This.Being here with you.Alone.”
“You don’t like the house?”
“It’s not that I don’t like it.I mean, it’s beautiful.There’s just so much of it, and we just got married, and I never see you.I thought we’d spend more time together.Honeymoon…”
“You wanted a honeymoon?”
“I mean.It is tradition.”
“You’re nothing like I expected.”
“I could say the same thing.”
“You’re not afraid of me.”He’s not asking.
“I thought I would be, but I saw you and I thought, wow.He’s beautiful.”I leave out the terrifying part.
“You think I’m beautiful?”he laughs.“I have a confession.”He glances down at me, so I turn to face him.He presses my back against the floor to ceiling window.I should be terrified that I could plunge to my death if this glass were to break, but I don’t think I have anything to fear with Nico.“It’s me that’s afraid.”
“Of what?”
“You.”
