My hand presses down on my chest again, only this time it’s not to slow my racing heartbeat, but to try and fill the gaping hole from missing my dearest brother. I wish he was here with me right now. Even if Francesco couldn’t help me maneuver this new life of mine, he would have been able to brighten up my days with his smile and coax out one of my own.
I doubt I’ll be smiling anytime soon.
Worst of all, I fear that without me home in Mexico, Francesco might try to fill the void I’ve left behind by losing himself at the bottom of a bottle or any other of his many vices.
Just as the worrisome thought passes through my mind, another quickly replaces it.
This one is even more troubling.
‘Drink.’ Tiernan had ordered, and when I refused to budge, he took my mouth hostage with his and poured the sharp sour liquid inside it.
I can still recall how the alcohol burned its way down my throat, but it was Tiernan’s lips and tongue that really left their scorching mark on me, heating every nerve ending and making my pulse race. Everything about the small exchange held a heady electric quality to it, inflaming me from within and leaving me rooted to my spot to burn.
Like his first kiss back at the church, his second left me just as wanting. I have no doubt that Tiernan has an arsenal of weapons at his disposal to eviscerate his enemies. However, I’m hesitant to believe he’s unaware that his kiss is also one of them.
Dangerous and downright lethal to any woman’s sanity.
But apparently my mental stability is of no concern to my husband.
Only my virtue.
He said it was safe.
I’m not sure it is, though.
Not if he insists on kissing me like that whenever the whim hits him.
I push all thoughts of my husband away and finish washing up. By now, he’s probably in the living room, either finishing his whiskey bottle until it’s completely empty or blissfully asleep on a chaise lounge, dreaming up different and creative ways to unsettle me. Although Alejandro’s advice was for me to get pregnant as fast as possible, knowing that I can postpone sleeping with my husband for one more night is the answer to a prayer I didn’t even know I had made.
Before meeting Tiernan, I would have blamed my reluctance to sleep with him on us being lifelong enemies. Our families spending decades trying to kill each other doesn’t exactly lay the best foundation to elicit trust in the bedroom or even outside of it.
However, I’m very aware that my hesitation is now purely because of the man himself and the unfamiliar emotions he’s been drawing out of me. Maybe it’s my inexperience that beckons caution, but the small voice inside my head whispers that no amount of prudence will ever prepare me for Tiernan when he decides to take me.
And take me he will.
It’s all a question of time.
Virtue be damned.
Once I’ve rinsed the shampoo out of my hair and the liquid soap from my skin, I get out of the shower and dry myself off. Feeling too exhausted to blow dry my hair, I dry it with a towel and run a brush through it so as not to let it entangle throughout the night. I then open my bag to get some pajamas and cringe when I see a provocative almost see-through teddy one of my father’s servants purchased for me to wear on my wedding night. In his mind, pleasing a husband in bed is a wifely duty, right up there with keeping a home spotless. A chore that needs to be done, no matter how unappealing.
I push the lingerie back into the bag, making sure it’s out of my sight, and decide to sleep in the hotel’s guest robe instead. I would rather sleep in the nude than put that horrid thing on me tonight. I’m at my wit’s end with how much I’ve given of myself today as it is. After brushing my teeth and rubbing some coconut lotion on my legs, I’m ready to call it a night and be done with this day.
Of course, the saints don’t seem to agree with me that I’ve paid my full penance already
Their displeasure is made obvious when my gaze lands on my husband and verifies that he’s still in the room. While I was locked away in the bathroom, Tiernan decided to walk over to the floor-to-ceiling window and open its blinds completely so that he could admire the view of his city.
From where I’m standing, it’s just another expanse of skyscrapers, with little depth and even less soul.
“You’re still here,” I say so that he knows he’s no longer alone in the room.
“I am,” he replies with a tight-lipped smile I can see from the window’s reflection.
“It’s late,” I state the obvious, hoping he takes the hint and leaves.
But when he doesn’t move a muscle to get out, my hackles start to rise.