Total pages in book: 141
Estimated words: 142043 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 710(@200wpm)___ 568(@250wpm)___ 473(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 142043 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 710(@200wpm)___ 568(@250wpm)___ 473(@300wpm)
And I still haven’t had a response from my mother.
And I’m getting the silent treatment from Alessia.
Could this day get any worse?
“Do you want to go out to eat?” I ask, in the hope of getting her to talk.
Alessia is gazing up at Big Ben as we round the square. “I’m not hungry,” she says.
“Alessia. Look at me.”
She turns dark, wounded eyes to me that slice through my soul. “What is it? I don’t know what you’re thinking. It’s driving me crazy.”
“You had a relationship with the lawyer?”
“No. She was a one-night stand. Just sex. Once.”
Well, more than once that night if we want pinpoint accuracy.
Alessia glances at the cabbie.
“He can’t hear us.”
“Maxim, I am trying to…ugh…my English.” She closes her eyes in frustration.
“Tell me.”
She squares her shoulders and turns her dark gaze on me again. “You have a…colorful past, with many lovers. And I don’t know why that hurts me so much. I think…um…I am anxious that I am not enough for you. Or you will become bored with me.”
* * *
There. She said it. Her darkest fear out between them.
Maxim scoots across the cab’s back seat and grasps her chin, so she’s pinned by his intense green gaze. He leans in. “Never,” he says with such conviction that Alessia feels a frisson of alarm. “You own me. Body and soul. Fuck’s sake, Alessia!” He releases her and leans forward, placing his head in his hands.
She blows out a breath, startled by his vehemence. “You’re angry with me.”
“No. I’m angry at myself, but I don’t think it’s deserved.”
“No,” she says quietly. “It’s not. I’m sorry.”
He looks up and gives her a crooked smile. “You don’t need to apologize. Like I said, I have a past. Look, let’s just go home. It’s been a shit day. A really shit day.”
Alessia places a hand on his arm. “It’s not so bad a day.”
“No?” Maxim sits back.
“This morning, I talked to my mother. She’s…um…basking—is that the right word?—in the glow…afterglow of the wedding. It is the talk of Kukës. She’s happy. My father is happy.”
“That’s the right word. I’m glad your parents are happy. And it looks like we don’t need to get married again, though I wouldn’t mind. I would marry you over and over to the end of time if I could.”
Alessia blows out a breath in awe at his words and rewards him with a hesitant smile. “I would marry you again too. But it is a relief not to organize another wedding so soon. We have done it once.”
Maxim takes her hand. “We have. And it was a beautiful wedding. It’s official. We’re married. Our lawyer said so.”
“And this afternoon, we did a duet together.”
Maxim’s lips curl into a dazzling smile. “That was exhilarating. You’re so talented and easy to follow.” He stops. “You’ve had no formal musical training, yes?” He squeezes her hand and releases it.
“None. I learned at home. You know this.”
“Well, not that you need it. But have you ever thought of music school? Here. In London, to formalize everything you’ve learned?”
Alessia stares at him, nonplussed, as she tries to weigh his words.
“You could study. We could get you a student visa for that.”
Study. Music. In London.
Alessia’s heart starts to pound with sudden excitement. “That would be expensive.”
Maxim snorts. “I think we can afford it,” he says drily.
* * *
“See. Not such a bad day.” She beams broadly at me, and her delight is infectious.
“No.” I grin back. “Let’s do some research when we get home. Etiquette and music. We’ll find something.”
And just like that, my spirits lift and the atmosphere between us is transformed.
Only two shifty characters, both carrying cameras, are outside our building when we return home. I ask the cabbie to drop us in Tite Street, as I have a Cunning Plan.
Once the cab has left us, Alessia walks around the corner and heads into the building. Of course, the paps have no idea who she is, and they give her a cursory glance, although from my vantage point, I watch one of them ogle her as she walks past him in her tight, figure-hugging jeans.
Dirty bastard.
Once she’s inside, I follow, head down, ignoring their questions. I walk briskly into the building and join Alessia inside the lift.
“You have no idea how much of a kick I got out of that.” I chuckle. “They didn’t have a clue that my mysterious wife walked right by them.”
The doors close behind us, and it’s just us in the small space. Her eyes meet mine, peering up through her lashes, a smile teasing her lips, and everything tightens in my groin.
“Feeling happier?”
She nods and reaches for my jacket, tugging me toward her. Her hands snake around my head, and her lips meet mine. We kiss. Long. Hard. And I push her up against the wall, pressing my greedy dick against her belly while our tongues slip and slide against each other.