He lifted a piece of my hair, holding it to his nose. “A lock of this silk is all I would need for you to send me into battle with.”
“It’s yours.” I smiled. “In fact.” I went to jump out of bed, and he caught me before I did. My equilibrium was a bit off, and I stumbled. Rocco steadied me, and then he looked over my body with a narrow stare.
Each day he did this to see how much my belly had grown, if any at all. It was like he was studying me to find a minuscule change. He’d even take pictures of me every day. He said the photos were for the baby. Because he would never forget this time for as long as he lived and even beyond. He said something to the effect of…even the air is filled with love,which is the cause of the protective fog.
He’d write notes on the back of the physical pictures, and so would I. We took the photos all over the property, inside and outside ofNel Cielo. A few times we simply sat anywhere the mood struck, and he set his hand on my still-flat stomach while he snapped the picture from above us.
These were my favorite.
We also began to discuss the nursery. Even though I was convinced the baby was a girl, I still decided on a neutral theme—rich though, with cream and gold touches—until the baby came. Light purple for Avelina, since Rocco and I both were in love with the pram Brando and Scarlett gifted us with, and traditional blue if Ricco showed up.
Rocco moved me from side to side, the silvery light falling over my body as the moon’s light spills over the darkness. His eyes narrowed on my stomach, and he set his massive hand against it, as big as my stomach.
“You are growing,” he said with enough passion it made me sigh.
I set my hand over his. “The baby is getting bigger.”
“Therefore,” he said, “so is my stunning wife.”
I looked up at him, and he looked down at me, and we both smiled. He leaned in and kissed me, and after, I went to the dresser and pulled out a box, my head still spinning some.
“Here.” I handed it to him. “I forgot all about this with what happened before we left for Switzerland.”
He opened it, and his eyes widened before he lifted the lock of hair. I’d tied it with a burgundy bow. “I know how romantic you are about knights and things…I thought you’d love the symbolism behind it—oof!” He brought me against his body so hard, I lost my breath and balance.
Hitting his body was like a soft, winged creature hitting a mountain.
He brought my mouth to his, kissing me so passionately, I felt like I melted into him.
“I can’t stand, Rocco?—”
“No.” He kissed me again. “The name you and you alone call me.”
He was like that mountain—keeping me standing.
“My husband,” I breathed out.
“This is the one. A sacred name. The only name I answer to in our secret language.” My lock of hair was curled around his fist, like he was about to take it into battle with him.
“All I need,” he breathed against my mouth, “is you, and you alone. All I need. Now and forever.Per sempre.”
Not only did he speak the words,you and you alone are all I need, but he showed me with his touch, his kiss, his love. And I wasn’t sure how long time had passed, but the next time I opened my eyes, I wasn’t sure where the hands landed on the clock.
I’d lost track of time again. It was like my husband possessed me, and all I could think of was him—he consumed me.
For our honeymoon, after our wedding on the island, he had taken me to one of the castles, and I had no clue whether it was day or night. It was only the two of us, and time didn’t exist. After we left, we still had time on the island, but I’d been pouting about not being locked away with my husband for the entire time—not being locked away with him forever.
I’d realized that we had so much life to live together and look forward to, but…I still valued times like these, where it was only us again in our own little world.
Still, when Rocco had taken me to bed last…I couldn’t even remember. I was unsure of what the date was. I knew this much, though. It was still cold and foggy outside. I also knew it was nighttime, and the moon was bright. Silvery puffs lingered by the windows. The way some of them hovered, thicker in some spots, thinner in others, reminded me of ghostly fingers trying to tap on the window, find a way in to feel the warmth of the living.
I shivered a bit, moving even closer to Rocco. His fingertips danced along my arm, and even though he held me close, he seemed to hold me even closer. I was almost on top of him.
“Again, ah?” He gave me a lazy grin.
I laughed, and it was quiet. “Always,” I whispered. “But my body’s a little sore.”
“Ah,” he breathed out. He kissed my head, and in the next breath, he had me in his arms, carrying me to the bathroom. I rubbed my arms while he ran hot water, the steam clinging to me like a lover—like he did. He stared at the water, his eyebrows pulling in.
