Total pages in book: 70
Estimated words: 66506 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 333(@200wpm)___ 266(@250wpm)___ 222(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 66506 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 333(@200wpm)___ 266(@250wpm)___ 222(@300wpm)
“I did.”
His lips met mine and moved hungrily. With a groan, he yanked me close, deepening the kiss. I wound my arms around his neck, letting him explore, learning his taste and the feel of him. He drew back, leaning his forehead on mine.
“What do you say?”
There was only one choice to make.
“Take me on our honeymoon, Matteo. I want to get to know my husband. All of him.”
Chapter Seven
Evie
Matteo was in a good mood. He had been since we’d landed on his island. Gone was the slicked-back dark hair and stern expression. Without gel, his hair fell over his forehead, giving him a rakish, sexy look. In the sunlight, the dark color showed bits of copper in his hair. His brown eyes danced with happiness, and he laughed. He had a loud laugh that boomed and echoed. It made me laugh with him.
We had spent the past two days exploring. Talking. Getting to know each other. He was well-read and intelligent. Without the restrictions of his team around him, he was relaxed and happy. He showed me all his favorite spots on the island, holding my hand, often kissing me. He was fascinated when I told him I had been a teacher. His eyes glowed when I told him how much I enjoyed teaching children, watching their faces as understanding dawned and they learned something new.
“You want children, Evie?” he asked, his voice pitched low.
“Someday,” I responded, suddenly breathless.
The air crackled around us, then he stood and walked away.
At night in the darkness, he would snake his arm around me, holding me tightly, but that was all. I had expected him to advance our relationship. Instead, he had stalled it. I was confused, frustrated, and feeling off-kilter. I wasn’t sure what to do or how to bring up the subject. He seemed impervious, nothing upsetting him. He swam, lay on the beach, soaked up the sun, and ate heartily.
He was sexy. The way he moved, the way he spoke. Most of the time, he was bare-chested, his skin turning more golden each day. His shorts or swimsuit hung off his hips, and he was casual and laid-back. I saw the way his eyes flickered when I would walk out of the house in a swimsuit or donned one of the pretty, short dresses I had packed, but he never reacted other than pushing his sunglasses up his nose and blowing out a long breath on occasion.
He was infinitely patient, showing me the coral reefs, guiding me around the caves, holding my hand when I was nervous. He was funny, telling me jokes and making me laugh. He loved to cook with me. He had a large wine cellar and made sure to pick a wonderful bottle every day, showing me how to taste it. He was everything a woman could want in a husband, except he didn’t touch me.
But I craved him. I had never known desire for a man the way I did for Matteo. Heat pooled in my stomach when I would watch him through my sunglasses. Memories of his mouth on mine, how his body felt when he held me, would repeat in my head when he was close. The desire to reach out and touch him was something I fought every day. But I was too afraid to do so. Too nervous to speak up and ask him. I was ready for him—for everything. I had even had a birth control shot to make sure we were covered, and I had made sure he knew Geo had given it to me. My biggest fear was that he had decided he didn’t desire me. Maybe once he’d seen me in the bathing suits Roza had picked up for me and discovered the lingering scars on my body, he’d realized I wasn’t as attractive as he had thought.
On the third day, I woke up alone, my mood decidedly dark. I headed to the kitchen, knowing I would find Matteo there, cooking. He loved breakfast and enjoyed making it.
He greeted me with a warm smile, dropping a kiss to my mouth and handing me a cup of coffee.
“Good morning, my wife. The day promises to be another beautiful one.”
I managed a smile, but I didn’t say anything.
“I made pancakes.” He set out a plate, piled high. His chest was bare, showing off his defined pecs and broad shoulders. His shorts hung low on his hips, his stomach taut, and that tantalizing V prominent. How was it possible for one man to be so sexy?
I had to look away. “Thank you.”
He furrowed his brow. “Would you like some juice? I squeezed it myself.”
“How domesticated of you,” I said, sounding snarky even to my own ears. “No, thank you.”
He sat down, silent, but filled his plate and began eating. I pushed mine around, my appetite nonexistent.