She nods, reaching up to cup my bearded jaw. “I slept like a baby. This place is so quiet and peaceful,” she whispers, burrowing deeper into my arm and nuzzling my chest. “I’m so used to the chaos and noise of New York that this feels like a nice change of pace.”
"Hmm," I hum, leaning down to kiss her neck, a gesture meant to soothe, but my cock takes notice, hardening in seconds. I trail my mouth up her neck, seeking her mouth when my phone vibrates on the nightstand.
"Ignore it," Sofia whines when my mouth pauses its movements. "We just started our honeymoon."
I would ignore the message if it weren't of absolute importance. I know who's texting and why, and for once, it has nothing to do with work. But I can’t tell her that.
"I have a surprise for you," I say, pushing away before I give in to my baser needs and make love to her. However, that would only spoil the day's itinerary, and we're already running behind schedule. “You need to get ready first.” I laugh when she burrows deeper into the pillow, tossing the covers over her head. "You'll like the surprise, I promise."
At least I hope she does.
Sofia peels the covers down to her eyes and blinks up at me. "What is it?"
"Now it wouldn't be much of a surprise if I told you, would it?" I chuckle, grabbing her hand and pulling her out of bed with me. We take a shower together, and I applaud myself for my considerable restraint, only managing to kiss her senseless in the shower and not much else.
I get out first, hard and aching.
I'm almost done getting dressed when Sofia comes out, that sexy body wrapped in a small towel and her eyes narrowed suspiciously on mine,
"You're up to something," she says, walking to her closet, dropping the towel. I damn near cancel all the plans. "Don't tell me you need to work this morning. Didn't you tell me Leonardo and your brothers would hold down the fort while you’re away?"
She walks to me, naked as the day she was born, and Christ, what a temptress. "I only get you for two weeks. I don't want to share you with your first wife."
I shake my head, trying to follow her train of thought, but Christ, she makes it hard to focus on anything but her and that gorgeous body. "My first wife?"
"Your job," she says with a pout. "You're married to your job, aren't you?"
Maybe before, when my life revolved around building my family's power, but not anymore. "I'm married to you, only you," I say, cupping her nape and brushing my lips over her forehead. "And no, I'm not working today. I have a surprise for you." It's the strength of a saint that has me pulling away before I can trace my hands down my wife's nude body, kiss the pink pebbles of her nipples, and... Fuck. "Get dressed, Sofia. And meet me on the beach in ten minutes.”
“Ten minutes,” she muses. “Why does that sound oddly familiar?”
“Don’t be late.”
It takes considerable effort to pull away from her, and when I finally leave, my heart is pounding in my ears. I want her. I don’t remember a moment I didn’t want her, but now that Ihave come to accept my feelings for her, the intensity of it seems to have doubled.
The cool air hits my face when I step out of the bungalow, the scent of salt heavy in the air. My bare feet sink slightly into the soft, manicured lawn as I walk toward the beach. The sun is warm this late in the morning, promising another perfect day on the island. I enjoy the gentle lapping of waves against the shore like I’ve never done when I come here, but this is no honeymoon destination.
My family has owned this island for decades, used as a hub for some of our less-than-legal activities. Somewhere on the island are tunnels that connect underground bunkers and vaults loaded with illegal weapons and laundered cash, but my pretty little bride doesn't need to know any of that.
No, I wasn't lying when I told her I wouldn’t work for the next two weeks. I haven't gotten a break in... ever. Whenever I visit this island, it's for business, but not this time.
As I walk down the beach, the scene I've been coordinating with our siblings finally unfolds. Brightly colored flowers, hibiscus and bougainvillea, spill from overflowing urns. White linen-covered tables are scattered across the sand, each adorned with delicate china and sparkling silverware. There are comfortable, cushioned seats arranged in a semi-circle, facing the ocean. Laughter and chatter suddenly stops when they spot me. Outside of the staff I employed to organize the event, there are five members from each of our families. Seated on one side are my four brothers and little sister, Gabriella. On the other are Sofia's three sisters and her two cousins.
Perfect. Everyone is here.
"This is so amazing, Matteo," Gabriella says when I approach, beaming at me. "Sofia is going to swallow her tongue when she sees this!”
I embrace my sister, turning to thank everyone else for coming. The yacht that brought them all here is moored at the pier, gleaming in the sun. Everyone here is busy with their own lives, but they did not hesitate to come when I told them my plan for the day.
"She's coming," Gia cries out, clapping her hands excitedly, so I walk to the center and turn to watch my wife walk down the beach toward us.
The sun is warm on my face, but I barely feel it. My heart is hammering frantically against my ribs. I stand rooted to the ground, watching her approach. Her steps are hesitant at first as she processes the scene in front of her.
I watch her eyes widen, a look of utter surprise washing over her face, a beautiful mix of shock and confusion. Then, it shifts. The surprise softens, melting into something else. Recognition dawns, and with it, a smile. It's a slow, hesitant curve at first, then it blossoms, lighting up her entire face. It's pure, unadulterated joy.
The kind a groom would hope to see on his bride’s face.
On their wedding day.
