Page 38 of Let Vengeance Be Mine

“You cold?” I check when I eventually drag my cock from her tight pussy. It suddenly dawns on me what a stupid idea this was. I have no towels to keep her warm or dry her skin when we get out of this water

“I’m fine.” She shakes her head at me.

“You won’t be if you get a chill. Now, you're gonna get cold and–”

“He’s moving again,” she interrupts me, taking my hand and placing it back on her stomach so I can feel it too.

“See Matteo, we’re fine. You're doing a great job of taking care of us.” I didn’t realize it till just now, but her words are exactly what I needed to hear. And suddenly this island, that I didn’t want to bring her to, seems like the place I want to keep her, for the rest of her life.

“Come on, let's get you home.” I kiss her one more time before dragging her out the water and using my tee to dry her off the best I can.

ARIA

Matteo meant what he said when he told me he’d make our marriage happen, it’s only been five days since he proposed to me at the waterfall, and today the beach is all set up for our private ceremony. Demitri is flying to the island with the marriage certificate he somehow arranged for us, and, since Matteo is insistent that we do things right, he’s bringing a priest with him. I’ve never had him down as the religious type, but I’m a go-with-the-flow kind of girl.

“Are you nervous?” Grena asks as she adds a few more pins to my hair.

“Not at all, it’s not like there's a lot of people here for me to mess my vows up, in front of.” I smile back at her through the mirror, as she places the pretty, purple orchid among the neat up-do she’s given me.

“Oh, sweetheart, marriage is about far more than just the vows. It’s about a love in your heart that overflows. It’s perseverance against all odds. Marriage is not easy. Especially, to a man like Matteo Romano.” She smiles and steps back so she can admire her work.

“I do love him, you know. We aren’t just getting married because of the baby.” I stroke my bump affectionately, it’s too big to hide now and sticks out rather prominently from the white dress Matteo had shipped over, with the rest of the supplies from the mainland.

“I see that, I have known Matteo for a lot of years and I’ve never seen him be the way he is, with you, to anyone.” She smiles.

“So, you’ve always been on the island.” I see an opportunity to find out what troubles Matteo so much about this place.

“Yes, the late Mr Romano resided here, toward the end. Matteo pays me to keep the place nice, even though he hasn’t visited since his passing.” She smiles sadly, patting down the bed to try and make herself look busy.

“How long ago was it?” I ask, getting up from the dresser stool and helping her fluff the pillows.

“Please, Miss Aria, rest.”

“I don’t want to rest. I spend all day resting. I want to know about this place. I want to know why Matteo didn’t want to come here,” I admit.

“I like the way you make him smile.” Grena ignores everything I’ve just said as she strokes my cheek like a proud mother. “I’ll see you on the beach.” She leaves me alone with my thoughts. I stand in front of the mirror and look at my reflection, wondering how my life could have changed so much, in such a short time.

Our baby boy wriggles inside me and I stroke my hand over where he moves. I’m feeling him more and more now, and Matteo has spent hours with his hand resting on my stomach, feeling him too. He’s fascinated by the changes that are happening to my body, and although everything seems a little hasty, it feels right that we’re doing this. I just wish Matteo wouldn’t keep things from me.

“Can I come in?” I hear Matteo's voice come from the door and quickly spin around.

“You're not supposed to see me before the wedding,” I remind him.

“I’m not superstitious, are you?” he checks, walking toward me and admiring how I look in my dress.

“You look beautiful.” He smiles down at the hand he has stroking my swollen belly before his eyes pick back up to fix on mine.

“I wanted to give you something.” He reaches into his back pocket and pulls out a small red box.

“I never made our engagement official,” he explains.

“That's because it only lasted a few days.” I laugh at him, only Matteo Romano could put together a wedding on a remote island in less than a week.

“That is irrelevant, every bride should have an engagement ring.” He opens the box to reveal the antique-style ring with a diamond on it so big, I’m sure it’ll weigh me down.

“This was my grandmother's ring, her and my grandfather lived a long and happy life together. He made her very happy, and it will always be my intention to do the same with you.”

“It’s perfect.” I stare at it, mesmerized, as he takes it from the box and slides it onto my finger.

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