We’d shared our second kiss at the end of the ceremony, and it was as electric as the kiss he’d given me on my birthday. I could only imagine how intense it would be when we were alone tonight.
I was ready.
Okay, that was a lie.
I’d thought about it a lot. Fantasized about what he’d be like with me. Would he be gentle and sweet? Or rough and demanding? I alternated my fantasies between both. But I knew reality wasn’t the same thing as what I’d built up in my mind, and while I wanted to be ravaged in theory, the actuality of it was a little overwhelming.
The door to the anteroom opened again and I stood, my dress rustling with the movement. I was eager to get it off. I shivered at the idea of my husband helping me out of it.
But it wasn’t Stefan at the door. It was Michelle, with a Louis Vuitton duffle in hand.
“Let’s get you out of that dress,” she said. “And into something you can wear for the goodbye, before you go up to the bridal suite.”
The dress she had brought was a little more my style—a simple black sheath with a rounded neckline and cap sleeves. It was a gift from Stefan. Having clothes made for me by his personal tailors was a perk I was already becoming accustomed to. I loved it.
Michelle chattered on about how wonderful the day had been as she began the long process of unbuttoning the intricate fastenings down the back of my dress. I smoothed my hands down my skirt, the reality of the whole day finally sinking in.
I was married.
Legally and bodily bound.
To a virtual stranger.
My stepmother must have noticed my breathing getting faster and my hands trembling. She finished with the dress and turned me around, her gaze searching mine.
“I promise it’s going to be okay,” she said in her soothing Southern accent. “He’ll tell you exactly what he wants. Nothing to be worried about. For most men it’s…well, it’s a boon.”
I realized she was talking about my virginity.
My breath came faster.
“Oh, honey. I was in your shoes once.” Michelle eased me back down onto the sofa and sat beside me. She smelled comfortingly of magnolias, her signature scent. “Your job is to please him. Just remember that.”
I nodded. “Right. Got it. Except what if I can’t?”
“All you have to do is follow his lead. You’re getting a lot out of this deal, but remember what he gets—you. Your body. It’s his now.”
I tried to forget that her experience in the matter came from being with my father. I wasn’t naïve. I knew what was expected of me. But there had been very little actual preparation in that department. Now, facing the moment, I was starting to have second thoughts.
“What if I can’t go through with it?” I asked Michelle, my doubts getting the best of me.
She looked at me sternly. “This is not the time for talk like this. You can do this. Youaredoing this. You don’t have any other options.”
She was right. If I wanted the life I desired – if I wanted to get an education, if I wanted to escape my father’s control—then I had to play this part. At least, for now.
“At least he’s young and handsome,” Michelle said. “And he approves of your academic pursuits. Some husbands don’t want their wives working at all.” She let out a sigh.
“I know,” I agreed.
“Well, don’t you worry. I got you a little something.” Michelle pulled out a white glittery bag with an enormous bow on top. “It’ll make tonight easier for both of you.”
“Is it a double magnum of wine?” I joked. And then I pulled out the tiniest piece of lingerie I’d ever seen. “Oh. Wow.”
The garment appeared to be a clever arrangement of adjustable straps and bits of white lace. Completely see-through white lace. The top would barely cover my nipples, and though I understood the point wasn’t to hide anything, I couldn’t even figure out how it was supposed to go on. My brow creased in confusion. “What is—”
“The garter belt is removable, and that middle strap is a thong,” Michelle said brightly.
I could feel my face go bright red. If it were possible to die of humiliation, I was on my deathbed.
