Yes, I moaned, answering him, answering me. Yes,ohyes, it would.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Brando
Scarlett had asked me at least five times—why are we doing this again?I had replied five times with the same answer—because your mother arranged it as a thank you to our guests.
“Yes,” she said, hesitating outside of the dining room. “That’s right.”
She reminded me of a beautiful being grown from the icy ground yesterday. Tonight she looked like she had been coated in pure snow and diamonds. Her entire dress was encrusted with crystals. Running a finger over spots that were missing a few, I made a mental note to replace them. I had dislodged a couple before we came down.
A sense of pride and possessiveness rushed over me at the sight of the new rings on her fingers. Both hands glinted against her dress as she smoothed it down. I took her left hand and brought it to my mouth, placing a kiss on her wrist.
She ceased fiddling and stared at me, her gorgeous eyes drinking me in. She was still drunk from our earlier encounter. Her face was still flushed a pretty pink.
We were met by applause, once I could get her inside the room. There were only about fifty people, all standing close to a table that almost looked barbaric, candlelight flickering over their features and the almost black roses that covered just about every surface.
Standing side by side, hip to hip, my hand on her lower back, we made our rounds, thanking whomever for coming. Most of the guests were foreign to me, and apparently, some to Scarlett too. They were mostly all friends of her parents.
Her father was not one to rest. Even during his daughter’s wedding, he worked. But Scarlett had grown up with a sense of grace toward such things, unlike me. I itched to find a seat or a dark corner to wait it out.
As we progressed forward, we seemed to be drawn to our own familiar group. That was where we settled. Violet, Mitch, Mick, Colette, Emilia, and Maggie Beautiful, along with a space reserved for Elliott, a single rose to mark his space. Maja Resnik would be seated next to his empty chair. We were told that she had requested to sit with us for the evening, once she made her way down.
Violet had disappeared for some time before she returned to the table with baby Mary.
“I didn’t want to bring her.” She chanced a look at Scarlett’s mother, who was frowning. Violet bobbed up and down with Mary. “But she won’t settle with the sitter. She usually doesn’t behave this way. Mick, maybe you can—”
The baby wailed, and Violet and Mick went to take her from the room, but Scarlett stopped them.
“Give her to me,” she opened her arms to Violet.
“But your dress, she might—”
Scarlett waved the notion away. “Give me thatbébé.”
Violet handed Mary off reluctantly, not even chancing another glance at Scarlett’s mother. I moved into a darker corner of the room, watching as my wife held thebébé.
A piano tinkled in the background. She held Mary tighter against her chest, little round head in the perfect spot for kissing. Scarlett did just that, as she whispered things to Mary in what sounded like French. Then she began to move to the rhythm of the song. Nice and easy. Her dress caught the light as she moved, making her almost hypnotic to watch. The baby let out tiny noises. Content.
She took to Mary as naturally as the ocean takes to rocking. A crash caused the party to look away from her, and all eyes turned to me. The smell of whiskey floated up in a cloud. I had dropped my glass. A server hastily cleaned up the shards, replacing the lost one in record time. I pushed back the burn and then ordered another.
“I can’t believe it,” Violet whispered, coming to stand next to me. “She’s a natural. I never would have thought. Then again, she surprises me a lot.” She squeezed my arm. “Are you all right? Jesus. You’re sweating. Do you need—”
“Ah, do not worry about him. He has just seen his future. That is the scene for some men, but not all, no?”
“Nemours.” Violet nodded, her eyes wary of him.
He bowed to her, taking her hand, placing a kiss on her knuckles.
“Who invited you?” she said, eyes narrowed, wiping her hand on her dress.
“The hosts, of course!” He laughed. “I declined the wedding invitation, discretion the better part of valor. Given our history.” He glanced at Scarlett and then shrugged.
“You flatter yourself. There is no history between you and my wife.” I went completely hollow at the wordsmy wife. That gorgeous, gorgeous woman was mine.My wife. And a deeper sense of possession clicked into place.
“Who’s this?” Mitch slid in, giving him the once over.
“The rat,” I said, taking another deep drink. “Il ratto.”
