“My parents only took us to their favorite Italian restaurant, and I wasn’t really allowed to go anywhere alone.”
Of course, she hadn’t been. Rocco Scuderi had kept me updated on the state of things. “You can go anywhere you want now.”
Aria raised her blond eyebrows. “Really? Alone?”
I leaned forward so the people at the neighboring table wouldn’t overhear me. “With Romero or me, or Cesare when Romero isn’t available.”
I could tell that Aria wasn’t happy about it, but she really couldn’t have expected me to let her walk around without protection. Deciding to distract her, I picked up my own chopsticks. “Here, let me show you.” I showed Aria how to open and close them.
Biting her lip in a very distracting way, she tried to imitate the motions, again with a look of utter concentration on her face. “No wonder New York girls are so thin if they eat like this all the time.”
“You’re more beautiful than all of them,” I said without hesitation.
Aria peered up as if she wasn’t sure I was being serious. It was the longest she had ever looked into my eyes, and I wondered what she was trying to see. I was toeing the line, trying to make her feel comfortable and being good to her without making her hope for something as ridiculous as love.
Aria had been completely sheltered; even if she knew the rules of our world and what kind of man I was. Her naiveté and innocence would still make her hope for something that would just never be.
I picked up a piece of the bulgogi beef and held it out to Aria. Surprise flashed across her face. I raised my eyebrows in challenge. She parted her lips, then closed them slowly around the sticks, and I almost groaned. Did she even realize what kind of images she created in my mind?
“Delicious,” she said, smiling sweetly.
Watching her innocent joy over something as simple as eating Korean food filled me with a new appreciation.Aria became tense the moment we returned to our apartment and quickly disappeared into the bathroom. I ran a hand through my hair as my eyes rested on the bed. This would be our first night in our apartment, in this bed.
Watching Aria enjoy herself during dinner had rekindled my desire for her. It was difficult to read her. Why was she so tense?
The door to the bathroom opened and Aria stepped out in a long dark blue nightgown that contrasted beautifully with her golden hair and pale skin. My eyes were drawn to the slit showing off a small sliver of her smooth thigh.
Unfortunately, Aria had the deer-in-the-headlights look going. I walked past her into the bathroom, needing to cool off. I splashed some cold water into my face. My body throbbed with the desire to lay claim on the woman in my bedroom. I’d never had to hold back, never wanted to, but Aria needed me to. Fuck. Staring down at the boner in my briefs, I pushed away from the sink.
Aria was my wife. She shouldn’t still be a virgin. Maybe she was ready tonight. Maybe she’d only been terrified because of the pressure on our wedding night.
Wasn’t she curious? I remembered how fucking eager I’d been before my first time despite my nerves.
When I stepped out of the bathroom, I found Aria in front of the panorama windows, her back turned to me, looking out toward the skyline.
I moved toward her, noticing the way her body tightened. It got only worse when I reached out for her. Her obvious nervousness set my teeth on edge, because I didn’t know how to put her at ease. Words of consolation or reassurance weren’t really my fucking strength. My first instinct was to give her an order to stop the tensing, but that wouldn’t have gone over well.
I reached out for her and she stiffened even more as if she thought I’d grab her, push up her nightgown and fuck her right against that window—which was what I wanted to do but never would, unless she fucking wanted me to. I touched my knuckles to her soft skin and lightly ran them down her spine, trying to show her that I was going to hold back for her, that I’d be careful with her.
Apart from the goose bumps pimpling her skin, she didn’t react. She obviously wouldn’t act on her own accord. I had no trouble leading; the problem was that my style of leadership was usually not for sensitive women, and Aria was breakable.
I held out my hand to her, knowing that she would follow my silent order because she’d been brought up to obey. She finally turned around to me, but her gaze rested on the scar in my palm, which she traced with her fingertips. My skin tingled from the almost non-existent touch. It was strange being treated that carefully.