Page 46 of Hidden Heir, Italian Wife

He kept his arms around her as he lifted his head. His gaze flashed into hers with a light of satisfaction. For the response she couldn’t disguise? Or the marriage itself?

Either way, she knew in that second that the balance of power between them was not equal. It never had been. He had the wealth and resources, the physical strength and greater erotic prowess than her. He even had the unqualified love of their daughter who had yet to discover that Papà could say no just as well as Mama could.

But it was done. They signed the paperwork and accepted congratulations and posed for photos. After a convivial early dinner, they changed to go to the airport.

Bree hugged her mother, trying not to cry. She could fly Melissa out anytime, now that she had an obscene allowance on top of the salary she would continue to receive, but it still felt as though she was stepping aboard a steamer for the colonies, never to see her mother again.

Trying to hide her tears, she gathered up her daughter and left with her new husband.

***

Jax had left his penthouse a week ago, oblivious to the fact he would return with a wife and daughter. Bringing them into his home should have felt disruptive, but he found himself embracing the chaos of decorators converting a bedroom for Sofia and toys underfoot and little feet kicking him in the night because Sofia wasn’t fully settled in her new home and new bed.

He liked being a father, he discovered, except when he had to discipline Sofia. The first time it happened, it was as though Bree wanted to punish both of them.

“It’s your phone,” Bree said when they found Sofia washing it in the sink, trying to destroy the evidence of her peanut butter fingerprints upon it.

Sofia knew phones were off-limits. Jax had to put her in a time-out on the bottom stair and restrict her screen time for two days. She cried. He felt horrible. She apologized and he tried not to crush her as he hugged her.

“Do you still love me?” she asked fearfully.

“Of course I love you. I will always love you,” he promised her.

“Next time I’ll ask first,” she promised, snuggling into him.

He resolved to keep it out of her reach from now on. He couldn’t go through this again.

Feeling close and connected to Bree didn’t happen as easily. Not that they were in conflict. Things were actually going as smoothly as they could.

They hired a nanny and Sofia took to her and her new preschool very quickly. She was picking up Italian words as easily as she absorbed English, outpacing Bree, who spent an hour on an app every night, trying to keep up. Bree struck up the acquaintance of a few mothers at the preschool, which also helped her assimilate and kept her from feeling isolated in a new country.

She came to work with him three mornings a week, occupying an office two floors down from his, then spent two evenings online with Eve’s group back home. They often had lunch together. At home. After a quickie. Once they even defiled the stately desk in his office.

There was the real source of his satisfaction with domestic life, he supposed. Sex on tap. Yes, they had to be mindful of Sofia, but they necked all the time. He liked thinking about what he was going to do to Bree, sometimes fantasizing all day without hardly seeing her, then playing it out when they got to bed.

He liked more than the steady diet of orgasms, though. He wouldn’t have called himself lonely before they married. His life was too busy and demanding, but he liked having someone to come home to. He liked the chitchat over meals and he liked having Bree next to him when they went out.

Small things niggled at him, though. Things like the fact she’d kept her apartment in New York and her own bank account where her salary was deposited. She stayed on the pill.

She had good reasons for all of those decisions, but in his mind, they added up to a withholding of her full commitment to their marriage.

Marriage to him was a lot, though. He had to admit it.

Even in the run-up to Christmas, there were holiday parties and the frenzy of shopping. They spent Christmas with Eve and Dom in Como, where his parents joined them for a few days, then attended a New Year’s Eve party at the home of a famous movie star.

Things grew even busier in January, especially his social calendar.

Bree was already a working mother. Now she was also the wife of an executive. His role at the helm of the Euro division meant he was expected at cocktail parties and charity galas and ribbon cuttings. He loved the convenience of not having to find a date for these things, but Bree was soon at her wits’ end.

“Anotherball? Can I wear my wedding dress?” She was joking, but he said, “Absolutely not.”

Her wardrobe was deeply inadequate, though. She had a stylist who had loaded her up with designer ready-to-wear, but she needed more.

He booked them for a few nights in Paris and surprised her by flying Melissa in to join them. Sofia was thrilled to spend her days with Gigi, freeing up Bree to meet with designers and shop the boutiques.

“Are you afraid they’llPretty Womanme? Why are you coming with me?” she asked on their first morning.

“I thought it was obvious that I have a passion for fashion.” He waved at his bespoke trousers and slim-fit suede jacket over a tight black sweater. He’d almost added a vintage fedora. “I used to come with Eve. I know a lot of the designers.”

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