Total pages in book: 96
Estimated words: 93203 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 466(@200wpm)___ 373(@250wpm)___ 311(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 93203 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 466(@200wpm)___ 373(@250wpm)___ 311(@300wpm)
“Good plan.”
Luca lifted his glass. “To Roman and Effie. May they be as happy as Justine and I. Salute.”
We clinked glasses, Justine only taking a small sip. I knew they weren’t publicly sharing the news of her pregnancy yet as it was early. I winked at her knowingly, and she smiled as she tilted her head toward Effie and winked back her approval.
I met Effie’s lovely eyes, something in me relaxing. She was with me, and that was where she would stay. And soon, the world would know.
Whatever the fallout of that was, we would handle it together.
In the car, Effie turned her head from looking out the window. “Is Justine pregnant?”
“Why would you ask?”
“She didn’t drink her wine, had no shellfish, and she looked a little tired. Luca was very protective of her.”
“He always is, but yes, she is. He told me this morning.”
“How lovely.”
I didn’t like the sadness in her voice. I took her hand. “We can have children, Effie. If that is something you desire, you only have to tell me.”
She smiled and nodded, but she still looked sad. I took her chin in my hand. “What?”
“I need to see how things, ah, go before deciding something like that. We should get to know each other a little better first. Maybe settle into a life with each other first before adding the stress of a baby.”
I didn’t blame her for being cautious. Still, I wanted her to know I wasn’t against a child. “Babies are usually considered a miracle. A gift.”
She smiled. “That wasn’t what Marianne thought about me.”
“Forget about that woman. She will never come near you again. If she even tries—” I stopped speaking, my hands curling into involuntary fists.
“What would you do?” Effie asked, her eyes wide.
“Kill her.”
“Roman, you don’t—”
I cut her off. “She will never so much as breathe the same air as you, Effie. Ever. What she did was unforgivable. Heinous. She deserves whatever fate has in store for her. I will not help her—ever. And nor will you.”
“You would kill her to protect me?”
“Yes. I would do whatever it took to protect you.”
I was surprised when she turned and flung her arms around my neck. She kissed me with a passion that stirred the constant embers that burned inside me when she was close. I yanked her tight, kissing her back.
“Thank you,” she whispered.
I dragged her onto my lap and made sure the privacy screen was in place. She moved over me, grinding on my erection. I dragged my mouth to her ear. “You have to be quiet, Little Tiger. Can you do that?”
She whimpered, and I covered her mouth, holding the sound down. I had a feeling we were about to get louder.
EFFIE
I sipped my coffee, running a hand through my hair. Roman had woken me before he left, telling me that Vi would be here at nine and to be ready. He didn’t say for what, and I knew better than to ask him. I showered and got ready after he left, pleased to see my bruises were almost gone now. The dark ones on my legs and stomach were yellowing and fading, the ones on my face and arms easily covered. Roman still scowled when he saw them and was infinitely tender when he kissed over them. Actions that gave me hope for our marriage. For us. I knew I was already partially in love with him. Despite his hot and cold, despite his violent side, he had claimed a part of me no one else ever had—or ever would. I worried over him, wanted to make his life better. Easier. I loved the look on his face when he would watch me. He had one facial expression when he left the suite—stoic. Stern. Intense. But when he was with me, he was funny, tender, intense in an altogether different way. And when he made love to me, fucked me, whatever he did to me, it was unbelievable. He never hurt me, even when he was rougher, but the orgasms were incredible. He was a giving, controlling lover. He was also an amazing teacher, showing me how to enjoy my body, enjoy his. His eyes darkened when I explored him. His grunts of pleasure, whispered words of praise, and constant dirty talk were all music to my ears. He made me feel desired. Sexy. Something I had never felt until he entered my life.
And despite how it was happening, or even the why, we were getting married. I echoed his whispered words of wanting Friday to come soon. I wanted to hear him call me his wife. To be Mrs. Effie Costas. To finally belong somewhere.
When I was growing up with Marianne, she always made me feel like an interloper, even in my own home. Our mother tried her best not to let it happen, but Marianne always needed the attention on herself, and it was easier to fade into the background and let her have the limelight, the first choice in everything. The big bedroom, the toy, the color of swimsuit Mom was purchasing for us. If I lingered too long over a pretty blouse or a pair of shoes, those were the ones she had to have. I learned early on in life not to let her know what I wanted. It was tiring.