“I’ve never met a man so eager to lose all of his teeth.”
At Romeo’s mutter, I peered up from Frankie’s text.
My heart nose-dived to my gut.
Madison sat on the hallway carpet, his back pressed against our door. The bluish light from his phone shimmied across his forehead.
As soon as he spotted us, he stood, painting remorse on his disheveled face.
His motive clicked with the force of thunder. Madison and Romeo had begun a calculated game. I was the objective—the ball—they kicked back and forth.
And suddenly, the plan I’d hatched with Madison seemed like a monumentally stupid idea.
One I would no longer proceed with, seeing as my co-conspirator had the survival instincts of a drunk moth.
“Dallas.” He’d never been so eager to see me in all the time we’d known each other. “We need to talk. I can’t stop thinking about you.”
I slowed.
For once, Romeo was right. Madison was begging to be killed.
“You lost me at the thinking part. Your measly intelligence merely helps you function.” Romeo strode down the hall, yanked Madison by his collar, and hurled him against our door. His voice, as always, exuded calmness. “What do you think you’re doing, Licht?”
Madison flailed like an unearthed worm. “Getting back what’s mine.”
I almost snorted. What a cliché.
“Why didn’t you say so?” Romeo released him, yielded a blank check from his wallet, and slapped it onto Madison’s chest. “Here.”
It cartwheeled to Madison’s loafers.
“What’s that?”
“The settlement I’ll be paying you after you sue me for breaking your nose.”
“You didn’t break my—”
Romeo planted his fist square in Madison’s face. Blood gushed out of my ex-fiancé’s nose. It dripped down his suit, coloring the carpet crimson.
He swayed, knocking into the wall.
All the air ripped from my lungs.
“What the fuck?!” Madison moaned, cupping his nostrils between pinched fingers. “I’ll call the police.”
Romeo feigned genuine interest, guiding his keycard into the reader with ease. “And tell them what? That you came all the way from the States to seduce another man’s wife?”
Madison wedged himself between Romeo and the door. “I want to talk to Dallas. I deserve some closure.”
I wondered what kind of heinous crimes I’d committed against the human race in a previous life to deserve these two nutjobs as my love interests.
Worse—that if I wanted a baby, which I did, it would likely be with Romeo.
I sighed, nudging Madison aside with the tip of my stilettos, careful to avoid a bloodstain. “Could this not wait until we get back home? Sorry, Mad, but this is a bit…out of left field. Also, I should probably take you to the hospi—”
“He’ll see himself there.” Romeo swung the door open and guided me inside, blocking most of Madison from view with his broad shoulders. “It is not the first time a husband has broken Madison’s bones, and judging by his antics, it won’t be the last.”
Madison surged forward. “I didn’t even touch Charity.”
As I said—heinous crimes.
Romeo lifted a finger to his forehead and pushed, sending a light-headed Madison into the wall. “Next time I see you in my wife’s zip code, even God won’t be able to help you. Now clean yourself up. You’re making Americans appear as gauche as the French think us to be.”
He slammed the door shut.
The thought of helping Madison crossed my mind for two seconds.
Then I remembered he’d come here for a cause, and that cause was likely sabotaging my honeymoon or plotting something against my husband.
At all costs.
Even me.
Seemed like no one had my interests in mind but me.
The more I thought about it, the more compelling I found getting knocked up. It would be the fastest way to get Romeo to send me back to Chapel Falls with my dignity and wedding ring intact.
Surely, he’d tuck me where his family couldn’t see me. Maybe even grant me a divorce to ensure our child didn’t receive any Costa perks.
I rolled back my shoulders.
Forget what just happened. Execute Operation Baby Maker.
Yeah, there were obvious cons to my strategy, but even the slightest chance of having a baby and returning home prevailed.
Showtime.
“Before you whine about Madison’s nose…” Romeo tore off his blazer, hooking it on a rack. “I draw the line at other men. You are not, under any circumstances while wearing my ring, to conspire or fuck them. That’s not too much to ask.”
I didn’t say a thing. Couldn’t find it in me to reassure him. Plus, fighting would hinder my plans for tonight.
I backed him into the door, planting a hand on his chest. Above his slow, steady heart.
We stood like this for what felt like an eternity.
Finally, he scowled. “Are you casting a Henry Plotkin spell on me?”
Involuntary laughter bubbled in my throat, but I swallowed it. The shameful truth was, the prospect of losing my virginity to Romeo made me giddy.
An entire scientific study could be conducted on how a man so cold could possess such penetrating warmth whenever his hands touched me.
I traced a heart over his. “I want you to teach me things.”
“Manners, I assume.”
“I was thinking more about…um, bed stuff.”
“Why? Sleeping seems to be your expertise.”
“Romeo. Be serious.”
He licked his lips. It was obvious he found the idea alluring.
Our chests strained against one another. I traced his Adam’s apple.
He stopped me, clasping my wrist. “Why do I always have the feeling you’re playing a game with me, Shortbread?”
Because I am.
Peering at him beneath my lashes, I pouted. “All I want is for us to have a good time together on our honeymoon. I’m tired of feeling miserable.”
Then, to show him I meant business, I rolled the zipper down my gown, shrugging off the fabric. It cascaded down my body like a waterfall.
Since I didn’t wear a bra or panties—the lines would have shown through the garment—I stood buck naked in front of him. His eyes roamed everywhere, caressing every inch of my body.
For someone who tried very hard to make me feel bad, he wielded the odd ability to make me feel cherished.
His throat bobbed. I knew that, despite his flawless self-control, he wanted to do dirty, unspeakable things to me.
He trailed a finger along my belly, my ribs, the outline of my breasts, lost in thought.
“I want to feel you inside me.” My gaze clung to his face. “Will you not consider it? Not even for our first time together?”
“No.” The word tore past his lips, croaky and hoarse. His touch sent flames of desire up and down my skin. “But if I start stretching your ass now, I can probably take it by next week after coming back from my Wednesday meeting in New York.”
A dozen retorts danced on my tongue. Namely, where he could shove his suggestion.
But that would blow my cover. And my cover right now consisted of being an agreeable wife, who wanted nothing more than intercourse with her husband.
“Okay…” I cleared my throat. “I’ll…I’ll go buy one of those…”
Ugh, what did they call them?
I wasn’t that innocent. I knew what they were. Even spotted one on Amazon.
“Anal plugs,” Romeo provided.
“Yes, er…those.”
“No need. I have an electric toothbrush, an ideal starter kit for anal play. Perfect width and shape, and the vibrations will get you off.”
I couldn’t believe I was having this conversation with my husband.
I couldn’t believe he wanted to stick his toothbrush in my butt.
He studied me, waiting for a reaction.
When one failed to arrive, he pointed out, “Give me access to your ass, Shortbread, and I’ll make you come for days.”
A mountain of curses settled on my tongue, begging for release. What had I gotten myself into? Stupid girl with stupid plans.
Being thoughtless always came with a price tag I wasn’t willing to pay. Still, I knew he anticipated me backing out of this. No matter how much I dreaded it, I wouldn’t hand him this victory.
I looped an arm around his neck. “Okay.”
“Okay?”
“You heard me. Getting cold feet, hubs?”
He called my bluff, stalking to the bathroom and returning with his toothbrush. I studied it through frantic eyes. It really didn’t look too big, but the prospect of shoving it into my most intimate hole induced hysteria.
I didn’t want this. Not because I thought there was anything wrong with it, but because I still hadn’t checked so many other stations on my route to discovering my sexuality.
This felt like a leap from two opposite cliffs.
Naked and shivering, I awaited Romeo’s instructions.
He flicked on the toothbrush. A symphony of buzzes and hums played between us before he switched it off. “There’s no shame in taking your pleasures through paths less traveled.”
I didn’t reply.
He toyed with the button again. “Are you sure this is what you want?”
I tried not to quiver. “Yes.”
“On the bed, then, Shortbread.”
I scooted onto the bed, watching his approach. With each step, my heart sank lower and lower until I could feel it thumping between my thighs.
“Turn around.”
I did, scrambling onto my knees. I felt the heat of him from behind. To my surprise, he didn’t push it inside. Rather, he snaked his arm around my midriff, drawing me back.
His lips traveled up my spine, pressing kisses from the base to my throat. He played with my tits from behind and tongued my jawline, forming a pool of heat between my thighs.
Though I loved his touch, his kisses, his attention, I couldn’t stay in the moment. Not with Madison’s blood stained on his fingers and the daunting knowledge of what he wanted to do to me.
All I could do was stay still and wait for the inevitable, swallowing down my bile.
His fingers reached between my thighs, withdrawing some of my sleek heat. He dragged the wetness from my front to my back, circling the rim at a lazy pace, teasing it.
I stiffened all over, shutting my eyes.
He stilled. “Shortbread?”
“Just do it already.”
Silence.
So much silence.
Too much silence.
That was how I knew I’d messed up.
He clutched my waist and rolled me onto my back. I fell onto a cloud of luxurious pillows, not daring to blink for fear I’d pop my tear cherry, too.
The stupid toothbrush was still in his hand.
I bit my tongue until I drew blood. “What are you looking at?”
“You’re crying.”
I wasn’t.
But I was darn close.
The closest I’d ever been, in fact.
I pursed my lips, saying nothing. I’d blown my plan. Shattered it to unsalvageable bits and pieces.
Stupid Chapel Falls and its stupid rules.
Would it have killed the town to give me some experience in seduction?
Romeo volleyed the toothbrush to the nightstand. “You’re shivering, too.”
I almost gasped when it flew by me, as if it had the power to enter me independently. “I’m just a little cold.”
In another twist of events, he gathered me in his arms, plastering me to his chest. I didn’t know what surprised me more. The humane response or the steady beat of his heart against my own.
All my anger at blowing my plan liquefied into relief. To my horror, I began trembling.
I knew he detested weakness. I also knew I’d never felt weaker in my entire life. Lying here, bare and naked, in the arms of a man I hated, leeching his comfort.
He cradled my head as though I were a precious, beautiful thing and stroked my hair, grazing his lips against my temple.
I expected his next words to be, don’t cry.
But Romeo refused to fit into the mold.
“You never asked for any of this, Dallas. I’m well aware. Every man in your life has failed you, including me.”
An epiphany slammed into me. My mind voyaged to his childhood room, sailing through the photos.
The stubs. The love.
Romeo Costa wasn’t born a heartless beast. Once upon a time, he’d loved.
Until Morgan.
Eventually, Romeo pulled away from our embrace. I peered past the French windows into the inky darkness. It must have been past midnight.
He palmed my cheek. “Forget anal play. There’s still plenty we can do.”
I nodded. “I know that. I do. I’m just upset because…”
I reminded myself of my goal while Romeo still straddled the tattered seam between this concerned man and the beast I knew so well.
“I’m sad because I’ll never know what it feels like to be taken in the traditional sense of the word.” I purred, tacking on my most innocent expression. “You’ve done this before, haven’t you? Gone…all the way?”
Now I was just taking advantage of him.
“You know the answer to that question.”
I sniffled. “Yeah, I do.”
He paused. “Even if I wanted to show you, I don’t have a condom here.”
“I understand.”
“No, you don’t.”
“True, I don’t. I’ll never experience sex, since you’ll never give it to me. Of course, I’m sad. I’m allowed to be.”
He tore himself off the bed and paced the room. Guilt—so thick and tangible—radiated from him.
So, he did have a conscience.
My eyes ping-ponged, tracking his movement when he finally stopped in front of the mattress. “Get dressed.”
I didn’t argue, wading deep in wanting-to-screw-Romeo-up waters. My suitcase fed me white cotton panties and a lavender satin top.
I was about to wiggle into matching pants when Romeo interrupted. “That’s enough. Go back to the bed.”
I scratched my temple. “Didn’t you just tell me to—”
“Before I change my fucking mind, Shortbread.”
Whoa.
“Only because you’re asking so nicely.” I ambled to the bed, falling onto it.
He stared at me. “Go to sleep.”
“What?”
“Go. To. Sleep,” he bit out, slower and louder.
“I heard you the first time, but—”
“I’ll be back.”
He collected his wallet and left.
Just left.
Without an explanation.
Whatever happened to “before I change my mind”? Maybe he’d changed it after all.
Deciding that today was eventful enough, I did, in fact, descend into the sweet arms of slumber.
In my dreams, I drowned in books. Ink-scented hardcovers. With words and universes and creatures far and foreign.
In my dreams, there was no beast disguised as a husband.
Most importantly—no heartbreak disguised as marriage.
