I placed my palm over his chest. “So is yours.”
Whit tucked a strand of my curly hair behind my ear. It had escaped my braid. I didn’t even think to glance in the mirror. Heaven knew what I looked like.
“You’re so beautiful,” he said.
He stood and carried me to the bedroom. Gently, he laid me across the bed, and then he crawled on top of me, careful to keep his weight off. He bent his head and placed hot kisses down the length of my throat. The front of my dress gaped open, and he traced a finger along my collarbone.
Goose bumps flared up and down my arms.
“Are you sure, Inez?” he whispered.
“Aren’t you?”
Something flashed across his face, an expression I couldn’t read. He nipped my bottom lip lightly as he cupped my breast, his thumb gliding over me through the thin cotton. Warmth pooled deep in my belly, and I gasped. He kissed me again, softly at first, but it quickly turned deeper, more desperate. Every sweep of his tongue made my heart race, my head spin.
It was only much later, after Whit dragged the covers up over our flushed skin, and after he fell asleep first and I listened to his soft breathing, that I remembered he hadn’t answered my question.
CAPÍTULO CINCO
Something soft brushed against the back of my neck. The slightest glide across sensitive skin. I kept my eyes closed, sure I was dreaming and that the minute I woke, the sensation would stop. But a strong arm was wrapped around my waist, tucking me close against a broad chest. I’d left the balcony open, and cool air drifted through the tight weave of the mosquito net wrapping around the bed like a cocoon. I opened one of my eyes, squinting at the gossamer fabric, making out the hazy paint strokes of dawn.
“Buenos días,” Whit murmured against my hair.
I shivered, tucking myself closer to his warmth. Memories from last night played through my mind, one moment after another. The heat from Whit’s hands as he explored every inch of my body. His kisses that made it hard to think, made my head spin and spin. The sharp ache when he first moved inside me, and it fading, becoming something that took over my body. Indescribable. He’d been gentle but possessive. Patient, and yet I felt his urgency in the noises he made, his soft gasps against my mouth. It seemed too incredible to be real. “Am I dreaming?” I asked in a marveling tone. “Did yesterday really happen?”
“I hope so, or I have no business being in your bed.”
I smiled against the pillow. “Were you able to sleep at all?”
“Of course not.” He stretched and pulled me closer and then sneezed when my hair tickled his nose. “I woke up wanting you throughout the night.”
I blushed. “Oh.”
Whit laughed, his thumb drawing light circles against my ribs, before slowly drifting upward. “I can’t believe I have a wife.” He pressed a soft kiss to my ear.
The enormity of what we’d done stretched out before me, as if our future were a ribbon unspooled. “What do you want to do?”
Whit paused, his thumb resting in the crook of my shoulder. “This minute?” He sounded amused. “The rest of the day? Or in general?”
I turned in his arms, curious and hardly believing we hadn’t discussed what came after the wedding. After I dealt with my mother, we had our whole lives ahead of us. The world was our oyster, as the saying went. I smiled, and Whit stared at me, brow furrowed.
“What is going on in that head of yours?”
“The world is our oyster,” I explained.
“Ah,” he whispered. “Shakespeare again.”
I trailed my finger along his jaw, following the hard line to his stubborn chin I drew months ago. “You’ve been a soldier, and a spy for my uncle. We have means now, and we can do whatever we want.” I licked my lips. “What do you want to do with your life?”
“I think the better question is what doyouwant to do? It’s your fortune.”
“It’s ours,” I said, because I didn’t want to start our marriage as if we were on different sides. I’d been cut off from my parents for so long, untethered and unsure of where I stood or where I belonged. All I wanted was to be a part of something he and I created together. A family. My mother had broken ours. My cousin’s face flashed through my mind, and grief surfaced, potent like strong liquor. For once, I didn’t want something I touched to smash into a million pieces.
“Inez, what doyouwant?”
“I want to know what happened to my father,” I whispered. “I want to know if he’s alive, or where he’s buried. Elvira—” My breath caught in my chest, and I swallowed hard. “Elvira died because of my mother,” I said. “I want her in prison. I want justice.”
“None of that costs money.”
