Her Wedding Night Surrender

‘I am going to take a stab in the dark and say it’s not your usual scene,’ he teased, kissing the top of her head.

‘Not exactly!’ She laughed. ‘But that doesn’t mean I can’t learn to like it.’

‘There is no need. I don’t come here often.’

‘But you have something to do with it?’

‘I financed it,’ he agreed.

‘Uh-huh. That would be why they treated you like some kind of god when you walked in here.’

‘Or it could have been because of the incredibly beautiful woman on my arm.’

She shook her head, her smile dismissive. ‘I’m sure I’m not the first woman in a nice dress you’ve brought through those doors.’

He slowed for a moment, hating it that she was right—hating it that his past was as colourful as it was. Not once had he questioned the wisdom of the way he lived, but now, married to Emmeline, he wished more than anything that he hadn’t slept with any pretty woman who’d caught his eye. He wanted to give her more than that, but he couldn’t exactly wind back time.

‘Have you spoken to your father lately?’

‘Ah...’ She expelled a soft sigh. ‘A change of subject, I see. I take it that means I’m the hundredth woman you’ve come here with, or something?’

He compressed his lips, angry with himself and, perversely, with Emmeline for pushing this line of enquiry. ‘Does it matter?’

She blinked up at him and shook her head. ‘I guess not.’

She looked away, but the pleasant fog of sweet desire that had wrapped around them dissipated. A line had been drawn and she’d stepped back over it, warily.

‘I was just thinking,’ he said gently, ‘that I wish I had come into this relationship with less baggage.’

‘Fewer ex-lovers, you mean?’ she murmured, moving in time to the music even as most of her mind was distracted by the idea of Pietro ever making love to someone else.

‘Si, certo.’

‘But why?’ she asked softly, and stopped moving, staring up at him.

‘You deserve better than someone like me.’

He was surprised to hear himself admit that. Until that moment Pietro would have classified himself as supremely confident and self-assured.

‘But perhaps you wouldn’t be such a sensational lover without all those women you’ve been with before,’ she quipped, winking up at him.

His laugh was gruff. ‘So practice makes perfect?’

‘Yes. But now you get to practice with just me.’

‘And you are perfect,’ he said quietly.

He kissed her gently then, and the world stopped spinning, the music stopped playing. Everything was quiet and still—a moment out of time. A moment that resonated with all the love in Emmeline’s heart.

And in his too?

She didn’t dare hope that he loved her. She knew that what they were was changing, morphing, shifting every day. That he looked at her as though he’d never seen a woman before. That he held her after they’d made love until she fell asleep. That he was always holding her, still, in the soft light of morning.

She knew that he was choosing to work fewer hours in his office and instead spending time in the villa. Oftentimes he was propping up a laptop, but generally near her. By the pool, in the lounge, in their bedroom.

And that was the other thing. Since they’d come back from the farmhouse she hadn’t slept in her own room once. His room was becoming ‘their’ room.

Still... Getting close to one another was one thing. Falling in love was quite another. Emmeline wasn’t going to get her hopes up. Life had taught her that there was safety in low expectations and it was a hard lesson to shake.

The song came to an end, fading seamlessly into another.

‘Are you hungry?’ he murmured into her ear.

She looked up at him, her eyes meeting his with sensual heat. ‘Not for food,’ she said quietly.

His laugh set her pulse firing. ‘Then let’s get out of here.’ He squeezed her hand. ‘I just have to see Leon—the owner. Want to come?’

‘Not particularly.’ She smiled at him and he smiled back, and the world was quiet again, spinning softly around them as if Emmeline and Pietro existed in their own little space. ‘I’ll wait in the car.’

‘Five minutes,’ he promised, holding up his hand and flexing his fingers.

She nodded, watching as he cut through the crowd effortlessly. Or did it part for him? Either way, he moved unencumbered through the hundreds of dancing guests. Once he was out of sight she turned and made her way in the opposite direction, towards the doors of the nightclub.

‘Emmeline.’

The sound of her name had her pausing, turning, a blank smile on her face as her eyes scanned the crowd. She didn’t see anyone she knew at first, and was about to resume her progress towards the door when a beautiful redhead came into view.