Page 33 of Cinderella's Secret Baby

She searched his eyes, then gave him a smile as pale as his own. When she shifted away, Hunter didn’t try to stop her.

She slipped into the bathroom and he stayed where he was, throwing his arm over his head as he mentally probed at why he was so dismayed by something that was exactly the sort of dirty private joke a couple ought to share in the afterglow.

He didn’t brag about conquests and had never been embarrassed by dry spells between lovers. On the contrary, it was a point of pride for him that he could go without sex, unlike his father.

But it felt too revealing that Amelia knew he hadn’t slept with anyone since her, probably because self-discipline wasn’t the reason he had put off having sex with Eden. Eden had broached the subject a couple of times, very cautiously. There had been a necessary timeline on their marriage, but they hadn’t known each other well. He’d assured her there was no rush for intimacy.

The stark truth, however, was that he hadn’t desired Eden the way he wanted Amelia. At that point, it had only been the memory of Amelia, interfering and preventing him from rousing to desire for Eden.

And once Amelia had been back in his life, it had been all he could do to wait the three days until they were married and she had some reliable birth control in place. How long had they been here? Not even an hour, and he’d been all over her. If he’d been able to manage it, he would have made her come three more times before he let himself finish.

He almost wished it hadn’t been as good as he remembered. If he was disappointed right now, regretting this marriage, he wouldn’t feel so raw. Instead, the sex had beentoogood. He was already impatient for her to emerge from the bathroom. Maybe they wouldn’t have sex, but he wanted to touch her. Cover her. Kiss her.

He bit back a groan, flesh stirring with recovery. With want.

He didn’t know her well enough for this to be an emotional connection. It was pure chemistry and hormones, which made it worse. His libido didn’t care about little things like whether he could trust her.

If he wasn’t very careful, he would become as besotted and stupidly indulgent as his father.

“I should unpack.” Amelia reappeared wearing a fluffy white robe. She paused in the walk-through closet to stare at the suitcases that had been left there.

“Kyra will do it.” Hunter made himself rise and find his briefs. They needed to get out of here or he’d have her on her back again before either of them knew it. “Let’s walk. If Peyton is awake, we’ll bring her with us.”

Amelia wasn’t sure what she had expected from her honeymoon—probably that she would get to know her husband better, but small things got in the way.

The most persistent small thing was their daughter. That didn’t bother her. She enjoyed seeing Hunter bond with Peyton. He wore her in a sling while they took short hikes, never shied from changing her and even brought her to Amelia, saying, “That sounds like her hungry cry.”

Other times the obstacles were more dismaying. They were out in public, where they could be overheard. Or even in the house, Kyra and her husband were always nearby.

When she did get a minute to ask him something personal, Hunter always seemed to deflect. He was comfortable telling her facts—his mother had died from a blood infection when he was nine—but he didn’t tell her how he felt about it.

“That must have been so hard. I’m really sorry.” Amelia’s heart ached for him.

“Vienna barely remembers her. That’s why our family foundation raises money for treatments and cures for sepsis. The gala is next month, actually. I’ll have my PA send you the details.” He walked away to find his phone and issue that command.

He worked on and off, taking calls at odd moments and disappearing to sit in on video meetings, which formed yet another thin wall between them.

Amelia couldn’t help wondering if he would have done the same to Eden if he’d been sailing the Greek islands with her. Then she felt churlish because she was the one he had married.

She still didn’t know what to think of his celibacy between July and their wedding night. It probably wasn’t significant. Maybe Eden hadn’t wanted to be intimate with someone who didn’t love her.

Amelia wondered if there was something wrong with her that she did, because the other thing that came between their communicating with words was the constant sex.

She wouldn’t call it lovemaking, because in a strange way, it felt almost like a sensual battle. They both triumphed, yet she always felt defeated. Sometimes it was a stolen quickie during naptime, sometimes it was a lazy, sleepy midnight coupling, and sometimes it was a lengthy contest where Hunter seemed determined to hold back through sheer strength of will while he found every single way he could wring moans and sobs and gasps from her.

She exulted in it, but also felt as though she was losing a piece of herself every single time.

She might have felt less dismantled if they had had a lazy day watching TV in bed, talking to no one but each other, but they went out every day. She didn’t mind. It was beautiful. They walked to see waterfalls and ambled the shoreline of glacier-fed green lakes. They went up on the gondola one afternoon, and he took her out for dinner another evening. They lingered over dessert to listen to a folk musician. It was her first time leaving Peyton, but it all went fine.

They must have been recognized, though, because they visited an art gallery the next day and Amelia became aware of the stares they were garnering. Celebrities were common in Banff, but usually came in the winter months for ski vacations. That meant the paparazzi who made their living with candid photos had slim pickings this time of year. They were more than happy to settle for the Wave-Com cad and his strumpet wife.

That night they made the six o’clock news when it was reported that they were on honeymoon in Banff. The next day, they were photographed getting out of their SUV at the base of a hiking trail.

They got straight back in, not wanting to be stalked for the next two hours.

“It’s okay,” Amelia said as Hunter turned back toward home.

She was disappointed and feeling threatened and exposed, but she didn’t think it warranted such a hard scowl as the one he was wearing. It made her feel the weight of being responsible for this scandal.

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