I swallow. “Do you expect trouble?”
“No.” He keeps his attention on the window. “I just prefer not to take anything for granted."
“If it’s a risk, why did you leave the house? Aren’t we safer there?”
He slides his gaze my way and replies in a deep, dark tone. “I’m not sharing you with anyone tonight. Tonight, darling, you’re mine alone.”
The meaning of his words sends a shiver of fear and anticipation down my spine.
The men get out first. They do a walk-around of the parking lot. Reino takes the elevator. He gives Dante a nod when he returns a few minutes later.
Dante gets out and offers me a hand. I want to ignore the gesture, but I’ll get tangled in the wide skirt and the long train. As it is, I’m battling to walk in the stilettos.
My nerves are frayed. I glance around, expecting someone to jump out behind a car and shoot at us, but we make it to the elevator safely.
“Clear,” Reino says under his breath as Dante steers me inside with an arm around my waist, keeping me close to his side.
I assume he means the guesthouse.
Reino punches the button for the top floor.
I’m trying not to think too much about what coming back here means. In an attempt to distract myself, I ask the first question that pops into my mind. “Who made the wedding arrangements?”
Dante frowns. “Why do you ask? Wasn’t it to your liking?”
“The flowers and the candles in the church were beautiful.”
He stares straight ahead at the numbers lighting up on the panel. “Penelope.”
I would’ve told him to thank her for me, but I didn’t choose to have this wedding.
Reino steps aside when we reach our floor and the doors open. “We’ll keep vigilant. The cameras are in place. We’ll know if anyone enters the parking lot or approaches any of the doors that give access to the street.”
Dante gives a tight nod before unlocking the door and escorting me inside. I stop dead in the entrance. The scene in front of me is a reincarnation of the past. The candles, the champagne, and the rose petals that litter the floor are the same. Only the chef is missing, but platters of cold finger food and dessert treats to nibble on are set out on the coffee table in the open-plan living area.
The scrape of the key in the lock sends another shiver through me. It’s like being locked in the past with Dante, one of my worst nightmares come true.
Coming up behind me, he drags his knuckles over the curve of my shoulder, inviting goosebumps in the wake of his touch.
His voice is seductive, and his lips are warm on the shell of my ear. “Hungry?”
Not trusting my voice to speak, I shake my head.
“Mm.” He nips my earlobe, making me clench my thighs. “You were too nervous to eat on that night too. Do you remember it, darling?” He presses a kiss on my neck. “I do. I remember it like yesterday.”
Twisting away from his touch, I face him squarely. “Why did you bring me here?”
“It’s a special night.”
My tone is biting. “It’s not as if we’re sleeping together for the first time.”
“We’re doing it for the first time as husband and wife.”
Those two little words, husband and wife, only wound my insides up tighter.
He twirls a finger in the air. “Turn around.”
I wet my dry lips with the tip of my tongue. “Why?”
