“I need a certain balance in my world. My preference would be that my woman would want to adhere to my lifestyle. I want her by my side as much as possible. I’m not a man who would get tired of my woman because she was with me too much. There isn’t a ‘too much’ for me. When I get up in the morning to meditate, I would need my woman to also get up to meditate with me. I want her to eat breakfast with me. I want her to exercise when I do.”
Grace’s expression didn’t change to one of alarm as he’d feared. She was listening, and he could see she was carefully thinking over everything he was telling her. He felt a little as if he was holding his breath. He already knew she was a match for him sexually. She’d just proved to him that she was. She sat wearing what he’d asked her, giving him everything he asked without question. She was a natural for him, as if she’d been made for him. Now he was asking even more of her. He couldn’t imagine that any woman would want to be with a man with his kind of needs, but she wasn’t running.
“In other words, you would prefer that we do everything together.”
He took a bite of his food before answering. “As much as possible, yes.” He barely tasted the tostada, and blackberry salsa was one of his favorites. He had years of practice keeping his expression blank. Although he felt as if he couldn’t keep his breath, it never showed on his body. If someone had taken his pulse, it would have been steady. He sounded matter-of-fact, but this was one of the most important conversations he’d ever have in his life.
She nodded. “I have to admit, I would want a close relationship as well. I honestly didn’t think men and women wanted to spend time together once they were committed. The people I’ve talked to seem to think they have more to talk about if they go their separate ways.”
“That could be, but it won’t work for me. I hope it doesn’t for you.”
“And if we have children and I’m exhausted from staying up all night?”
“We’re exhausted. You won’t be taking care of our children alone. Clearly things will change, but we’ll talk it over and manage the differences as they arise.”
She smiled and tried the salad. “Merry is amazing.”
“She is,” he agreed. “There’s more, Grace, and it’s important that you really think about what I’m asking of you before you commit to me. I’d rather lose you now than later, after we’re so entangled it’s a nightmare to separate. I don’t believe in divorce. It isn’t something my family easily does. If we take a vow, it means something. The consequences would be . . . brutal.” He knew she would think, as most people would, that he meant dividing their assets and if they had children, sorting that out.
“I would never go into a relationship with the idea that I can easily get out,” Grace told him, putting her fork on the table in order to pick up her wineglass. Her hand was a little unsteady as she brought the glass to her lips.
“When we’re alone in this house, and that will be most of the time, I would expect my woman to do as I ask her.” He watched her closely.
She blinked. Looked up at him. “In what way?”
“In every way. If I asked you to meet me outside wearing nothing but that little robe that’s lying across your bed right now, I would expect you to do it.”
A soft rose flush slid over her skin and she pressed her thighs together. It was a subtle reaction, but one he’d hoped to see. She reacted in the best possible way. The idea didn’t make her want to talk about rights and equality but was seductive to her. He resisted the urge to scoop her up and kiss her until neither of them could breathe. He knew that wouldn’t be fair to her. His lifestyle wasn’t for a moment or two. It was what he would expect for their lifetime.
“The thing to think about, Grace, isn’t whether or not you need this lifestyle, too. Deep down, where it counts, before you ever commit to me, you have to know that this is something that will satisfy you sexually and in every other way. It can sound exciting, but then get old very fast. Sometimes it will feel one-sided. You won’t always agree with me. Or want to do the things I ask of you.”
She put her wineglass down. He noted she’d drunk more than half. “I might be afraid.”
Her voice quivered, and Vittorio wanted to gather her up and hold her on his lap to comfort her, but he forced himself to remain where he was. “I expect that you will. I also would expect your trust and your communication. You have to tell me that you’re afraid. You have to say when you don’t like something we do. For a relationship to work between us, I need to know how you’re feeling at all times.”