Chapter 12 ~ Alexander #2
We drive in silence the rest of the way till we reach the hotel where the event is being held. It’s in the same hotel where we were married, and it brings back a few memories of our wedding day as we pull up to the crowd outside the doors.
Carlos parks the car under the canopy of the hotel’s entrance. He gets out, comes around, and opens my door.
I get out and reach my hand in for Isabella. She puts her icy hand in mine as she slides across the seat, lifting the side of her dress up as she places one foot on the ground, showing off her curvy calf with that jade green high heel on her foot and my dick jerks again.
The red velvet ropes line the entrance to keep everyone back. There’s a lot of press at these events.
Cameras flash. Isabella holds one hand to shield her eyes a little. The masses of reporters are yelling their questions at us.
“How does it feel to be Mrs. Russo?”
“How’s the honeymoon going?”
“Should we expect a little baby Russo soon?”
I put my arm around her waist tight and tuck her under my shoulder to protect her, and she curves her body into mine and hides her face in my chest. It feels good to have her there, to be the one to shelter her, to make her feel safe, and my chest puffs out a bit that she needs me for once.
The doorman opens the doors for us as we make our way in. Even though we’re in the building’s safety, I still hold her under my arm, guiding her to the banquet hall. I grab her hand as I reach to open the door.
The room is buzzing with voices, the clink of glasses and chatter echoing around the room. It’s crowded. It’s one of the larger banquet halls, larger than the one we held our wedding in.
I spot my parents gathered with a group of men talking, and my mother is standing beside him.
She turns as we approach and comes to hug us both and kiss Isabella’s cheek, leading us over to where the group with my father stands.
Everyone turns to welcome us. My father leans in and kisses Isabella on the cheek.
“So nice to see you again, Isabella. Has my son been treating you like the queen you are?”
She beams at him with one of her polite smiles as he steps back from kissing her on the cheek.
“I am well, thank you. And I am not a queen, just a wife.”
He gives me one of those looks and then looks back at Isabella and smiles.
“I’m glad to hear it. Shall we take our seats? Dinner is about to start.”
He pulls my mother to his side as we make our way over to the tables.
I pull out Isabella’s chair. She is still smiling.
I tucked her into her seat and take my place beside her.
My father and mother sit opposite us. Our first course is served, and the conversation flows around the table, and Isabella joins in when asked questions about her job at the museum.
She’s lively and smart, she has an excellent sense of humor. I've never seen this side of her. This elegant and poised woman shows no signs of the shy, quiet girl who was sitting in the car, refusing to believe in anything.
Dinner is concluded, and the waiters come in and clear the table.
My parents make their excuses to mingle with the other guests, and most of the table leaves to join them.
I call the waiter over and ask him to bring Isabella a cup of coffee.
I know how she likes her coffee after supper.
She’s been doing it all week, and I took notice.
She’s not much of a drinker, or so she’s told me. A few minutes later, he comes back and sets the cup in front of me, and I slowly slide it over in front of her. She looks at me, her eyes go wide, and then she gives me one of those smiles.
The one she’s only given Anna or Sebastian. It’s the second time today that I’ve been successful. I made her blush by speaking Italian, and now I’m giving her a cup of coffee.
A cup of coffee, not the diamonds, not the earrings, not the dress, a simple coffee, and I get that smile I’ve been looking forward to since she smiled at Sebastian in the sitting room that first night.
“Thank you. I’ve been dying for a cup.” She touches my hand briefly, and tingles shoot up my arm. The aches in my chest eased up. I smile and incline my head while taking a sip of my drink.
She cradles the cup between both her hands, blowing across the top as she takes a sip.
There is something about the way she blows on that cup that’s charming.
I don’t think the coffee is even hot enough that it would need cooling, but she does it anyway, every time with every cup I’ve ever seen her drink.
Isabella sets her cup down, looking out over the crowded room. I study her face from the side. That top pouty lip, her green eyes taking in everything and everyone in the room. She really doesn’t miss a thing. She just watches, never saying a word.
“Are you enjoying your evening?”
“Yes, actually.” She picks up her coffee, holding it to her chest.
“Good, I want you to relax and have fun for once.” She nods and takes a sip, letting out a soft ahhh.
I can’t help but chuckle, “That good, hey? Maybe I should have a cup.”
She giggles, rocking in her seat to the side a little. I hold my finger up and wave a waiter over. I nod but Isabella, indicating if she’d like another cup. She waves her head no and takes another sip, setting her cup down.
Our table is mostly empty now. The last couple smiles our way and gets up to leave.
It’s just her and me sitting at the table watching the crowd.
And I can feel the change coming over her.
With no one left to charm, she slowly shuts down, sitting straighter in her chair, hands woven tightly together, rubbing her thumbnail with her forefinger.
She finally looks up at me. Her eyes are gentle and soft.
“Did you plan on bidding on the auction tonight?”
Taking the cup and saucer from the waiter, I set it on the table and pick up my cup to take a sip.
“I hadn’t really thought about it. There wasn’t anything that I was interested in. We just had to make our appearances tonight, showing support for the cause. My father will do the bidding for our family. But if there is anything you’re interested in, please let me know. I’ll grab us a paddle.”
Her eyes go wide and her cheeks flush. She sucks in her bottom lip and her little white teeth bite into it. She looks back at the table. I almost want to chuckle, but I hold it in. Maybe she likes the idea of a paddle and not the bidders’ paddle. I have a variety she could experiment with.
“After our coffee, would you care to take a look? There were some art pieces I thought you might be interested in.”
There it is, the glow she had when I mentioned her Harry Potter. “Yes please, I’d love to. Do you happen to know the artist or the title of the pieces they have?”
I can’t help but laugh. I rub my lip with my finger and look back at her.
“I won’t lie to you. I have no idea who they are. I'm not of much of an art enthusiast, and I never actually looked at them.”
I stand up and hold my hand out to her.
“Come, let’s go take a look and see if there’s anything you’d like. Maybe you could bid on one piece and add a bit of yourself to our home?”
She blanches at the word our home. I don’t think I’ve really made her feel like it’s our home. She has had little chance to see or use much of the house. I’ve pretty much locked her in her room. Shit.
I link our fingers together, tugging her close to my side. We head to the farthest side of the hall, slowly walking along the tables, checking out the items up for auction. I’m not interested in anything. The only thing I want is to bring back that smile she had earlier with the coffee.
We reach the section where the art is hanging on the wall. She walks slowly ahead of me, releasing her hand from mine so she can examine each piece. She comes to a halt and takes a step forward to examine a large abstract oil on canvas painting of two lovers entwined in a dance.
They hold each other loose. The woman has her arms around her lover’s neck, his hands holding her close around her waist, tight to his. Their temples touching, their heads slightly turned towards each other, their lips almost in a kiss. It reminds me of our rehearsal dinner dance.
I note the bid number. She has one arm wrapped around her waist, her elbow bent over her hand. She strokes her lip with her finger softly as she studies the painting. I wonder if she sees what I see.
Us.
“Ti piace questo, Isabella?” (Do you like this one, Isabella?)
I step up behind her and wrap my arm around her waist, pulling her back to me, gently taking her hand from her lip and placing it by her side, holding it tight to her thigh, trapped under mine. I lean in and run my nose up her neck.
I stroke her cheek with my finger and I can feel the goosebumps break out on her skin. She nods and leans back slightly, tilting her head to my shoulder, giving me more access to her neck.
“Yes, I do. His technique is amazing. The brush strokes are bold. His use of dark colors adds an eerie depth to the painting, but the use of light and shadow on the dancing couple makes the entire piece exquisite, almost passionate.”
I hold her tighter and kiss the shell of her ear.
“I enjoy listening to you talk about paintings. It’s very sexy.”
I can feel her stiffening in my arms, ready to step away from me and I pull her tight. I cup her jaw and turn her so she faces me over her shoulder.
“Sei molto sexy, Isabella.” (You are very sexy, Isabella.)
I push my hips forward. Her eyes go wider, and she takes in a deep suck of air. I nestle my hard cock in the cradle of her ass. I splay my hand on her tummy and draw her back against me.
I grip her chin; I kiss her and I don’t care if she doesn’t want me to or who is watching. Those lips are sexy and I need to taste them. I sweep my tongue along her putty upper lip, trying to get her to open, and she finally does. And I growled my approval.