Page 51 of Immoral

"Okay. So why don't you tell him?"

I slide my arm around her shoulder and lean into her ear, swiping my tongue over her lobe before declaring, "It's our honeymoon. No one knows where we are, and I'm keeping it like that. Do you know why?"

She turns her face toward mine, biting on her bottom lip.

I resist leaving breakfast early, pulling her out of the chair, and taking her back to the room. "I think you keep forgetting it's our honeymoon. The last thing I'm doing is having anyone interrupt our time."

She stays silent, and I can see the wheels turning in her head, fighting to either give in to our reality or continue to claim we aren't real.

I give her a chaste kiss then return to focusing on my food, not wanting to hear her dismiss our marriage again. I motion to her plate, and she takes another forkful of her skillet.

We don't speak for the rest of our meal. When we finish, I sign the bill and lead her out of the restaurant. She stiffens as we pass the hostess. I make a note to talk to the manager and insist that woman isn't anywhere in sight for the rest of our stay. I don't care what I'll have to pay to make it happen. She's a nuisance to repairing my relationship with my wife.

I tug Cara tighter to my side. "You're going to love the amenities here."

She tilts her head. "Are you really spending the entire day at the spa with me?"

I grin. "Yep."

"Will you be taking calls during your treatments?"

"No."

"What about in the rest area?"

"Nope," I sing, understanding her disbelief. I always work when she's at the spa. She always told me to take a day off, yet I never did. It's something I regret. Looking back, nothing I had to deal with couldn't have waited. And my brothers are always able to step in if I can't do something. I should have cherished every moment I had with her. Nothing will stop me from focusing solely on her during this trip.

An expression I can't decipher fills her. I want to believe she's happy about my determination to take our honeymoon seriously, but I can't be sure. Years ago, it would have thrilled her. Now, she's so torn about whether to forget the past or not, her look might be disappointment.

I shake the thought out of my mind and push the elevator button. I kiss the top of her head, more resolved than ever to leave Canada with Cara back on my side and in love with me again.

12

Cara

Any saunayou can imagine is in this spa. I glance around in awe, shocked at all the options. A young blonde woman named Mindy gives Gianni and me a tour. Fragrant rose-scented steam fills the air in one room. Another mimics a pure salt cave. Mint flares in my nostrils the moment I step into the crystal steam room that boasts Swarovski elements. Sounds of crackling ice, scents of peppermint, and cold air envelop me in an igloo. Hand-painted art inspired by Michelangelo covers the ceiling in the Finnish Classic Spa. Breathtaking panoramic views of green forested hills plunging into Okanagan Lake fill the glass in another.

"And this is the room you'll want to start or end in," Mindy states, opening the door to the Aqua Meditation steam room. The entire length of both walls has oversized white cushioned seating. Invigorating orange scents fill the air. Water drips into a Swarovski crystal basin creating a soothing, rhythmic sound.

Gianni tightens his hold on my waist. He kisses the top of my head, which he's done in every room. He asks, "We have an hour before our first treatment. Want to start here?"

"Sure," I reply.

Gianni pulls the belt on my robe and helps me out of it. He takes his off as well.

Mindy holds her hand out. "Let me hang those outside for you."

He gives her the robes, and we sit on the plush cushions. The only other couple gets up and leaves. Gianni pulls me onto his lap and traces the bikini string around my neck. He states, "I knew you'd look amazing in this."

"How did you get all the clothes in our suite? If you didn't know Uberto's plans to kidnap me, then how did you do all this?" I blurt out.

Gianni's eyes darken. Hurt fills his expression. "You think I would have let that monster drug you and hold you captive to prance naked on stage in front of all those disgusting Abruzzos?"

My mouth turns dry. Hearing him say it that way makes me instantly think it's impossible. Yet, I don't acknowledge my gut feeling. I repeat, "How did you get all these things for me?"

"I'm a man who makes things happen. You know this, my tesoro."

"How long did you know the Abruzzos had me?"

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