Page 43 of Possessive Vows

Even though the cotton provides a barrier between our flesh—and I keep my touch clinical—a bubble of intimacy forms around us as I spread the ointment over every centimeter of her forearm.

When Camilla’s shoulders relax and she uncurls her fist to flatten her other palm on the counter, delight curls through me.

I grab a self-adhesive wrap from beside the sink and slip my hand out of hers to unravel it. She winces halfway through the wrapping process, so I loosen the compression and trail my fingers over the bandage. She doesn’t stiffen. I smile to myself, thankful for the little signs of progress.

The fact she trusts me this much is astonishing.Moyaso´lnyshkais brilliantly resilient.

She sighs in annoyance when I wrap a fresh ice pack around her compression bandage but doesn’t otherwise complain.

I grab her sweater off the floor and shake it out before offering it to her.

She thanks me and slips it on over her head. My cock pulses in my jeans as her breasts lift, but I can’t look away, not even after she settles the hem around her hips.

“My turn,” she says.

I cannot follow her train of thought, not with my mind full of erotic images, but I get the gist when she chooses an ice pack from the counter and studies my nose.

Despite the pain having already faded, I don’t stop her when she shuffles closer and rises onto her tiptoes to press the ice to the bridge of my nose.

She’s impossibly gorgeous up close. Her trim curves tempt me to rest my hands on her hips, but I dare not for fear of sending her into another spiral.

Even if the hug in the jewelry store’s bathroom doesn’t happen again for years, I will do anything to keep Camilla by my side. She is the only one I want to spend my future with.

“Thank you,so´lnyshka. Now we will go marry,” I murmur.

Her eyes widen and pupils dilate as my chest brushes against hers over the unexpected words. She nods and drops to the balls of her feet.

Her breasts flatten against my stomach. I suck down a breath and pray for control as she scrambles backward.

Despite the tightness around her eyes, she doesn’t panic, and a gorgeous blush darkens her tanned cheeks.

When she neither argues nor makes excuses, I smirk and wait until she turns and leaves the room to adjust my hard cock.

I hate jeans. These American clothes must go. I will only wear the best while marrying my wife, even if we aren’t having a ceremony yet.

We manage a quick farewell solely because Camilla’s sister already left to care for her infant, taking her husband and the Mancini’s with her. Before we leave, Giorgio gives me the name and address of his personal lawyer. I thank him and decide to take him up on his offer even though my family has a few connections capable of handling such documents.

There’s no reason not to use his lawyer. After the discussion today, it is clear he is ready to protect Camilla no matter the cost.

He won’t need to worry about her anymore. She’s mine.

Instead of heading straight to the lawyer’s office, I park in front of the boutique my family always visits on the rare occasion we travel to New York City.

When Camilla notices where we are, she takes a long breath in and exhales hard as she runs her hands over her messy ponytail.

She meets my eyes through the rearview mirror.

“I’m sorry I wasn’t more presentable when I dragged you around the jewelry store,” she says.

Furious disbelief spears through me.

“You were perfect then and you are perfect now,so´lnyshka. You do not have to change if you do not want to. This is for me. I must look like a god as I marry you,” I say.

“The god who captured a beam of light,” she murmurs to herself, then shakes her head and continues despite the blush on her face. “We’re just signing papers today, right?”

“Da,” I assure her.

She nods and slips her purse onto her shoulder.

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