“In what language?” She smiled.
I growled at her as I pulled her closer and kissed her neck. “Every fucking language.”
She laughed even harder, and we left, a plane waiting to take us to Germany for our honeymoon. I agreed with Saverio that the wedding on French territory was pushing fate enough. But we let them all know.
We were there, and my heart was with me, and they would have to kill me to get to her again. The thought stirred something inside of me, and I couldn’t stop staring out the window in our room at the castle, snow twirling outside of it while a roaring fire crackled behind me. I took a sip of the bourbon in my glass, letting the spice and caramel and chocolate flavors caress my tongue before I drank it down, where it made a small fire in the pit of my stomach.
I’d given my wife the day and night, and I’d give her the next day too, but I wanted answers. I wanted to fucking act.
The thought of losing her…it took my breath away, and it seemed like it was lost to the cold, a surge of wind causing the small flakes to twirl in a panicked flurry.
A vision in a silver robe and barely anything underneath was reflected in the glass behind me, and even though our eyes met and the connection started to move, she tapped me on the shoulder when she got close enough.
I set my glass down, then turned, my hands reaching out to bring her closer. The silk was cool, and I wondered if I’d burn through the fabric with the heat from my palms. A heat that was hotter than anything I’d ever felt when her skin touched mine.
I stepped back, bowed to her, and asked her to dance. “It would be my greatest honor.”
She curtseyed to me, laughing quietly. “Mine as well, Signore Fausti.”
When I looked up, she had the biggest smile on her face, and she nodded at me.
I took her hand and, instead of doing anything fancy, we swayed, gazing at each other.
“We don’t have any music,” she whispered.
“What does the lady request?” I lifted a brow at her.
“Mmmm…how about the song we danced to for both weddings, at the receptions?”
“Anything my heart wants.”
I cleared my throat and sang to her. She sang the female singer’s parts. We danced just like we had at both receptions, singing to each other, only the two of us existing in the world. Our voices were quiet, though, the popping of the logs in the fireplace louder than us.
“This song,” I whispered. “Tell me,la mia stella, who do the two of them need.”
We swayed, and she turned her face away from me, toward the window. “Only each other.”
I set my pointer finger underneath her chin and turned her face back to mine. Her eyes rose to meet mine. “That’s it, Estella.Only the two of us. That’s all we need. Nothing else will make me happier or keep me here.”
She sighed, and her breath smelled like mint, her skin floral. Her bright scents seemed to dance with my darker ones. Bourbon. Cigar smoke. Cologne.
It was making me fucking high. Like if I didn’t tear her clothes off, and she didn’t tear mine off, and our bare skin didn’t touch all night long—all life long—the bourbon I’d just drank would turn into poison in my system, and the only antidote would be her.
Dramatic?
Perhaps.
But when it came to this woman, my heart had no boundaries. It felt what it felt, and my body was only the conductor of it.
“Matteo…” She looked me in my eyes. “Give me this night. Tomorrow. Our entire honeymoon to just…breathe and not think about anything but us. Can you do that for me?”
My hands stiffened, and I realized I was holding her too tight when she moved her hands, like she was reminding me that I was holding on too tightly.
Fucking right I was.
I’d always hold on to her like my life depended on it.
It did.
