Chapter 25
Chapter twenty-five
Alina
Iblow gently across the surface of the tea, the floral tang of hibiscus brushing my senses before the steam fades into the air.
When I take a sip, warmth spreads through me instantly, sliding down my throat and settling deep in my chest. I sink farther into the oversized chair, feet tucked onto the footstool, my gaze drifting toward the window.
Snow falls from the sky in big white puffs that slowly descend around the house and over the mountains that surround us, creating a picturesque view.
To my right, the fire roars and crackles, flames licking high enough to cast a flickering light across the room. Mauro may have started it earlier, but I’ve taken my role seriously, feeding it throughout the day.
I’ve spent the afternoon in this exact position, deep in thought. It feels like after last night, a wall crashed down between Mauro and me. One that brought us closer together, which is only going to make it harder for me to tell him the truth.
But I have to. I know I do. And I will…
I just don’t know how, when the fear of him never looking at me the same way again skates over the back of my mind, dragging its talons along my nerves.
Heavy footsteps thud near the front door, pulling me from my thoughts. I glance over just as Mauro steps inside, cold air following him in. Snow clings to his dark hair as he shakes it free, loose strands falling into his eyes.
“Hey,” I say, sitting up and setting my mug on my thigh.
He shrugs out of his jacket, muscles shifting beneath the fabric, the sleeves stretching over his arms as he moves.
For a fleeting second, the hem of his shirt lifts just enough to reveal a hint of a defined muscular torso.
I bite down on my lip, heat blooming in my chest at the sight.
I lift my mug again, using the motion to mask my thoughts as he approaches, his dark eyes far too perceptive for comfort.
“It’s the perfect day to do nothing,” I say lightly before taking another sip. “Don’t you think?”
He stands before me, his head tilting slightly as he takes in my state of hibernation beneath the faux-fur blanket.
We’re going shopping.
I nearly spit out the scolding liquid. “Umm… Come again?” I swipe my forearm across my lips and carefully set the cup down on the table beside me. He rubs a hand over his jaw, clearly trying and failing to hide a smile. “Shopping for what?”
A little birdie told me you need a dress for tomorrow night’s fundraiser.
I let out a quiet sigh, shaking my head. “Madeleine doesn’t think the slightly worn black dress shoved in the back of your closet is good enough.” I lean back into the cushions, adjusting the blanket.
He drags his fingers through his hair before stepping closer. Without warning, he lifts my feet, catching me completely off guard, then settles onto the footstool and gently places them on his thighs. His hands wrap around one foot, thumbs pressing firmly into my arch.
Oh… This feels heavenly.
“I have a much better idea. How about we stay here where you can do that all night long?” I stifle a grin.
He laughs, shaking his head.
I arch a brow. “Why do I get the feeling that you’re actually excited to go to this event?”
He pauses his motions and then signs, I’ve never done this before.
He gestures between us. Fake or otherwise.
I’m used to doing everything alone. I chose that life.
It’s what I became comfortable with, what I knew.
His gaze lifts to mine. But now there’s you.
And the idea of having you beside me at one of those god-awful, boring events, well, I don’t dread it the way I used to.
So, yes. I’m excited to go, knowing my wife will be with me.
Warmth emerges in my chest, spreading fast and unexpectedly. “You sure know how to make a girl feel special, husband.” I tap my index finger against the arm of the chair, pretending to think. “I don’t know if I can go, though. I might have to check my schedule. I think it’s pretty full…”
The pads of his fingers tickle the bottom of my foot, a bubble of laughter erupting from my throat. “Hey! No! Stop!” I plead, tugging my feet, but it’s useless. They’re in his iron grip, his fingers relentlessly attacking.
My pleas go in one ear and out the other, so on instinct, I leap forward, the blanket falling to the floor as I land on top of him, trying to pull his hands away from me when he freezes.
And suddenly, I’m aware of everything.
Of the spark of electricity that sizzles down my spine.
Of the way his lips reside only inches from mine.
Of the way my fingers curl around his biceps, his burly, defined biceps.
Of the way his hands fasten around my waist, securing me against his body.
Of the way his eyes darken, latching onto mine.
And of the way his cock hardens beneath me, his length snug against my ass.
“Mauro,” I breathe.
He grunts, his fingers curling around my hips, sliding me back and forth over him. “If we don’t go now, we’re never leaving this house tonight.”
He stills, then exhales slowly as he pulls his hands away from me. You’re right. Let’s go find you a dress.
I purse my lips. “I don’t want you to spend a lot of money on me—”
He presses a finger gently to my lips, and I freeze, his touch sending a shiver through me. You are my wife. My money is your money. And if I want to spoil you, I will.
My wife. Those words send a rush of electricity through my body, and I find myself involuntarily leaning toward him as if a magnetic pull lies between us.
His eyes drift to the floor beside the chair, and he smirks.
Although if it’s that important to you… How about I let you pay for it?
He bends down, retrieves my bag, and pulls out my wallet.
He opens it and grasps the thick credit card between his fingers, holding it between us. But you have to use this.
I arch a brow. “That’s your credit card.”
He shakes his head. No, it’s my wife’s credit card. And she seems to have forgotten to use it.
“I haven’t forgotten.” I cross my arms over my chest. “It’s just…” I sigh, lifting one shoulder. “I’m used to taking care of myself.”
I know. But you have me now. And I want to take care of you. He slips the card back into my wallet and sets my bag on the floor. His eyes meet mine, his hand briefly cupping my cheek before falling away. Will you let me take care of you?
Such a simple question.
But one that has my chest tightening.
My eyes watering.
And my heart fluttering wildly.
Swallowing hard, I nod as I remove my glasses to run a finger beneath my eyes.
Taking my glasses, he lifts his shirt, using the fabric to clean the lenses while showing off his mouthwatering abs.
Carefully, he slides them back onto my face, positioning them until they’re just right.
He gently tucks my hair behind my ear and then leans forward to press his lips briefly to mine.
Good. But first, I have something to show you.
“What?”
He grins and lifts me effortlessly until my feet land firmly on the floor, then straightens beside me. Taking my hand, he leads me to the front door, helping me into my coat before opening it for us. The cold air rushes in, and I stop short when I see—
“What is that?” The words tumble out of me in shock.
He drags a hand through his hair, his brows knitting together. Do you not like it?
Sleek. Deep purple. A convertible, the top up against the snow.
Sunlight glints off the polished surface, flawless.
No scratches, no dents, nothing but pristine metal and sharp lines.
It’s new. Like extremely new. And I can only imagine what the price tag on this might be.
I take a step closer, seeing the Mercedes emblem, and blink a few times.
“Mauro…” I press my hand to my chest, feeling my heart beat rapidly beneath my jacket. “Did you…” I turn to face him. “Did you buy me a car?”
He nods slowly, uncertainty flickering across his expression before his hands move again. If you don’t like it, we can pick something else out. I know purple is your favorite color, but if you would rather have a different—
I lift a hand, stopping him as the words finally sink in.
“You bought me a car,” I whisper, shaking my head as I look back at it.
It’s beautiful. Exactly the kind of car I’d choose for myself if money were no object.
And that realization tightens something in my chest. But he shouldn’t have spent this much on me.
I swallow hard, turning back to him. “Why did you get me a car?”
Because you need something safe to drive.
Every time you’re on the road, I worry about you.
He waves a hand toward the car. This is one of the safest vehicles on the market.
I even had winter tires installed. He lets out a sigh.
This might seem extreme to you, but it isn’t to me.
His expression softens as he steps closer.
I need to know you’re safe, even when I’m not with you.
My heart flutters at his admission. It was supposed to be your birthday present, but since it was custom-made, it took a little longer than expected.
I swallow hard. As much as every instinct tells me I shouldn’t accept something like this, one look at his eyes tells me how much this means to him.
How badly he wants me to love it.
I roll my bottom lip between my teeth. “You got me a purple convertible,” I say, a small smile breaking free. I step forward and wrap my arms around him, pressing my face into his chest. “Thank you, Mauro.”
His arms tighten around me as he plants a kiss on my temple. Pulling back, he slips a hand into his pocket and retrieves the key, dangling it before me.
I smile, stepping in the direction of the passenger side before glancing back over my shoulder. “Maybe you should drive.” My voice turns soft, teasing. “I want to be able to thank you properly.”
And the look on his face is one I’ll remember forever.