“Come here, wife.” He drew her close as the limo pulled into the street and the city landscape slowly rolled past them. Staring absently outside, Virginia sighed. His arms felt so good around her, being against him so right. Being his wife.
Both protectively and possessively, Marcos pressed her face to his chest and with his free hand, reached out to rub her swelling stomach. She’d noticed the more it grew, the more he did that. “How is my little girl today?” he asked against her hair.
Her eyebrows drew into a scowl. “We’re having a boy,” Virginia countered. “A handsome, dashing boy like his daddy. No girl would kick like this little guy does, trust me.”
“Your daughter would, you saucy wench,” he said with a rolling chuckle. “And my instincts tell me we are having a plucky, curly-haired, rosy-cheeked daughter. She’ll run my empire with me.”
Virginia smiled against his chest and slid a hand up his shirt to find the familiar cross lying at his throat and play with it. “Father keeps asking how many grandchildren we plan to have, he’s obsessed with wanting it to be at least three.”
Marcos laughed, and that laugh alone warmed her up another notch.
“Ahh, darling,” he said. “He can rest assured we’ll be working on that night and day.” The praise in his words and the suggestive pat on her rear filled her with anticipation of tonight and future nights with her complex, breathtakingly beautiful, thoroughly giving and enchanting husband.
“He’s so changed now, Marcos,” she admitted, feeling so relaxed, so happy.
“His work in Allende has been impressive, Virginia. Even Jack is amazed.”
“And you?”
He snorted. “I got to say to the moron ‘I told you so.’”
She laughed. Then she snuggled closer and said, “
Thank you. For believing that people can change. And for forgiving that little fib he told you at the hospital.”
He nuzzled the top of her head. “He was trying to protect you—he didn’t know me yet, and I respect that. Your father deserved a second chance, Virginia. We all do.”
She sighed. “I’m just glad he’s put all his efforts into making the best of it. And I’m proud of you, dear sir, for being wise enough to put the past behind you and keep Allende.”
And for being most decidedly, most convincingly, most deliciously in love with her.
The band played throughout the evening, and the guests at the reception laughed and danced and drank. Hardly anyone would notice the groom had kidnapped the bride, and if they did, Marcos sure as hell didn’t care.
He still could not understand why Virginia had gotten it into her head to play hard-to-get leading up to the wedding, and even less could he comprehend why he had obediently complied.
But now in the cloaked shadows of the closet, he had Virginia right where he’d always wanted her. In his arms. His mouth feasted on her exposed throat while his hands busily searched her dress for access—any access—to the smooth, creamy skin beneath.
“Careful!” Virginia screeched when he yanked on the delicate zipper at the back and an invisible button popped free.
He laughed darkly and maneuvered through the opening. “You’re not wearing it again, reina. I could tear it apart and dispense with all this silliness.” The guests had been crowding them for hours when all Marcos wanted was to be with his bride. Now his hands stole in through the opening at the small of her back, where he instantly seized her cushy rear and drew her up against him. “Come here. You’ve been teasing me all night.”
“How kind of you to notice.”
“Hmm. I noticed.” He kissed the top of her breasts, all evening looking lush and squeezable thanks to Christian Dior, and then used his hands to gather the volume of her skirts and yank most of them back.
She automatically wrapped her stockinged legs around him when he pressed her against the wall. “You’re incorrigible,” she said chidingly, but he could hear the smile in her voice and the little tremble that said how very much his wife wanted to be ravaged by him.
He brought his hands up front and lowered them. “I’m open to being domesticated.”
“Luckily I’m open to attempting that daunting task. In fact—no, not the panties!” A tear sounded, Virginia gasped, and his fingers found what they were looking for.
“Bingo,” he purred.
“Oh, Marcos.” Slipping her hands under his jacket and around his shoulders, she placed fervent little kisses along his jaw. “Please.”
With a rumbling chuckle, he found her center and grazed it with his fingers. “Please what, chiquita?”
Against his lips, she mumbled, “You know what, you evil man.”