Chapter 12 ~ Alexander #3
I can taste her; the essence that is Bella herself, mixed with the sweet taste of the sugar she puts in her coffee.
I push my tongue in deeper and she moans, sucking back on mine lightly.
She half turns and grips my wrist in her hand, and I kiss her hard.
I missed her lips. That taste I crave is only for her.
“Ahem!” I open my eyes and turn to look behind me. Isabella turns away, putting her hand over her lips, her face turning red.
My father is standing a few feet away. I straighten up, still holding Isabella’s tummy. I’m not letting her get away.
“I’ve heard of art inspiring passion before. But maybe you two might want to take this home. Auctions are about to start.”
I can’t help but chuckle into Isabella’s neck as I hold her tight against me. She still won’t look at me. Her face is pink, and she’s covering her mouth with her hand.
“Come, let’s go back to the table. There are a few people I need to speak to. Before the auction begins, I will join you. I kissed her lips lightly, taking her hand and leading us back across the room to our table. She sits down as I slide her chair in for her. I kiss the crown of her head.
“I’ll be back. Would you like me to get you another coffee?” She shakes her head and whispers, “No, I’m fine. Thank you.”
“Be a good girl while I’m gone.” I wink at her, and she ducks her head, once again rubbing her thumb with her finger.
I do my rounds, the usual greeting and shaking hands with the members.
I only pay half the attention I should to the conversations; my wife has my other half.
I watch her laugh at something my parents are saying to her.
They came and sat with her while I did my duty.
My father seems to study her more than chat.
He watches her like she watches everyone else.
With a careful and observant eye, I wonder what he sees.
I head back to my chair, and Isabella smiles up at me as she slides my chair out for me.
That is the first time she’s gone out of her way to be accommodating with me.
I sit down and slide the chair closer to her and put my arm around the back of her chair, drawing her closer.
I kiss her cheek, “Ti sono mancato?” (Did you miss me?)
She blushes but doesn’t answer. I can’t help it; I rub my hand along her side, stroking up and down the silk, warming under my hand.
She shivers, and I shift in my chair, trying to hide my rising hard on.
The lights dim, thank God, and the spotlight lights up the stage as the auctioneer takes the stand. He taps the microphone.
“Welcome to the annual Charity Auction. I would like to thank all our contributors and our honored guests. We have an excellent variety this year. I’m sure everyone will find something to his or her taste.
Remember to only raise your paddle if you’re placing a bid.
Let the auction begin.” He slams his hammer and the night starts.
Sculptures, sea-doos, trips around the world, and exclusive stays at members’ private islands come and go as Isabella watches. Nothing seems to pique her interest; she claps at the appropriate time and smiles along with everyone else. But nothing seems to excite her.
Until the paintings come up on stage.
She slides to the edge of her seat, observing the paddles being hoisted in the air around the room, and the amount of money being raised.
They move to the next painting on stage, and she grips the edge of the table as she watches the painting of the two dancers move in the spotlight.
She looks at me and then around the table, noticing there is no paddle.
I hide my chuckle. It’s like she wants to grab a spoon and start bidding herself, but knows she can’t.
The bid for the painting keeps getting higher and higher, and she looks at my father, who hasn’t raised his hand. It is a cross between panic and excitement on her face as she watches her precious painting being sold.
Finally, we hear, “Last bid! Anyone else?” The hammer bangs, “Sold, for one hundred fifty thousand.”
She claps her hands loudly with the biggest smile on her face and grabs my arm, shaking me with her enthusiasm. I can’t say that I really enjoyed these auctions, but it was exciting to watch them through her eyes.
She beams at me.
“Can you believe that, Alexander? $150,000 The exposure for the artist this will create as well as money for the charity. I love this!”
I kiss her ear and draw her closer; she still has her hands clapped to her chest in a prayer, ready to cheer on the next painting and the next artist. It’s like watching a child at Christmas, only she doesn’t get excited over presents for herself.
Her joy comes from supporting the artist; it’s for someone else. She never takes anything for herself.
“I’m just glad you’re enjoying your evening.”
“I am. I truly, truly am.” She claps lightly.
“Have you never been to the annual charity ball before?”
She shakes her head with a smile. “No, my father only brought my mother or Rebekha. Thank you for bringing me.” She kisses my cheek and looks back at the stage, watching for the next painting that comes up for bid.
I don’t think she even realized what she did, but I will not ruin the moment by pointing it out. I tuck her in close and run my hand up her side, stroking her silk dress. Maybe Carlos’s advice to treat her like a skittish deer was sage advice.
Fucker, I hate it when he’s right. I’ll never live this one down.
The auction is over, and we both decide to head home. I just want to be alone with her, even if the spell of tonight is broken once we get in the car. I’m glad I had it. Her openness, and that fucken killer smile, I finally got.
And that kiss.
Carlos pulls up and I open the car door for her. She climbs and takes the seat next to me rather than across from me. She arranges her dress, unaware of her actions. I settled beside her and say nothing. I don’t want to scare her to the other side of the car.
She looks out her window as we pull away, and I look ahead at Carlos in the mirror, who has the biggest shit-eating grin on his face.
I reach forward and raise the divider window, and his eyebrows crease in disappointment as I watch his face disappear with a smile on mine.
Isabella rests her head on the back of the seat as she smiles out the window.
I take a chance. It is probably going to ruin this moment and make her scared of me or possibly mad, but I need to feel her. I put my arm around her and bring her close under my arm. She’s stiff at first, pushing on my chest with her hand. Her face scrunched up in confusion.
“Shh, just relax. I just want to hold you, Isabella. That’s all, nothing more than to feel you beside me.”
She settles in, puts her head on my chest, and snuggles in under my armpit.
She flicks one of my buttons with her fingernail and I chuckle.
I close my eyes and rest my head on top of hers as I listen to her breathe.
We remain as we are for the duration of the drive home, content for once with the silence.
It is comforting. It soothes me in a way the club doesn’t.
With her head on my chest, there is no conflict between us.
We arrive home, and she sits up and smiles at me.
She is so goddamn pretty. I kiss her nose before letting her go to get out of the car and take her hand in mine, locking our palms together as I lead us up the stairs to the front door.
She comes to a halt just outside the door and kicks off her shoes, bending to pick them up, but I raise my finger, stopping her and gathering them with my fingers as I walk her up the stairs to our room.
She silently pads one step below me, and once we reach the hall, I look down at her. She’s just staring at the empty hallway with a hesitant expression on her face. I tug her hand and she follows. We reach our bedroom doors and I look at her. She’s scared I’ll ask her to sleep with me.
So, I bend down and kiss her. She opens her mouth to me, and I sweep in, taking everything she offers.
She grips my shoulders, pulling me tighter, and I break the kiss, both of us needing air.
I wipe her bottom lip with my thumbs and she smiles, our foreheads together like our painting of the dancers.
“Thank you for tonight, Isabella. I’ll see you at breakfast.” I hand her the shoes, and she holds them to her chest. A shy smile on her lips as she turns to her door. I watch her as she opens it, stepping in and turning back to me halfway through the door, looking up at me.
“Thank you for tonight, Alexander. Another beautiful memory for me.” She closes her door.
I smile and go into my room, closing the door, and tossing my tie on the bed. I sit down and take off my shoes, undoing the top three buttons of my shirt.
I think I’m fucking dating my wife.