Page 36 of His Vow
I’ve never had a boyfriend, never even been kissed by a boy, and I swing my head from side to side so he can’t reach my mouth.
But when one of his hands releases mine to grope between my thighs, I panic. No, no, stop. The unspoken words build into a ball of fear as I struggle against his touch.
“Stop!” I finally scream.
***
“Lucia. It’s me, Ant. You’re having a nightmare.” The gentle words seep through the fuzziness of sleep.
Ant?That’s who’s beside me, propped onto one elbow, concern furrowing his brow.
“Breathe, sweetheart. Slow and long, deep breaths.” Ant’s voice is a calming salve. “You were having a nightmare.”
Tears leak from the corners of my eyes as I lie inert, staring up at the ceiling. The lamp beside Ant casts a pool of dim light over the bed while leaving the outer edges of the room still in shadows.
“Was it about that day?” he asks, dropping onto his back like me. His hand reaches for mine where I’m still white-knuckle clinging to the sheet.
I release my grip to link my fingers through his. “It was like he was touching me all over again. The images so vivid. The bile in my throat so real I couldn’t shout for help. I haven’t thought about that day for years.”
“And nightmares?”
“The same. Though they were a regular occurrence for nearly a year after.” I swallow deeply before admitting my truth for the first time. “I thought he was going to rape me.” Ant’s grip tightens against mine, but not to the point of pain. I turn my head to the side to face him. “It wasn’t until I was at college in Paris that I went to see somebody to help me cope with the trauma.”
Storm clouds swirl in his gaze when he tilts his head to look at me. “I’m sorry it took me so long to find you again after.” Three years passed before we saw each other again.
“It wasn’t your fault. You had college. I’d been sent to the boarding school in Switzerland to finish high school, then to Paris. We were both still kids.”
“There’s something I’ve never told you.” He swallows deeply, his Adam’s apple bobbing in his throat. “Your father called me when I was back in New York. He said I was to stay away from you, that I’d caused you enough trouble.”
“That doesn’t make sense. You weren’t the one who needed to be threatened. You saved me.” I shudder at the thought of what might have been if Ant hadn’t found us on the terrace.
“Did anyone else know what happened?”
I turn completely on my side before answering. “No. But it was obvious to my mother that something was wrong. I was distraught.” With a squeeze of his hand, I continue. “When he told me I was going to Switzerland the next day, I was glad to be leaving the island, because I never wanted to return.”
His brow rises. “You’ve never told me that. Not even that first time I suggested we meet there … What was it, nearly eight years ago?”
“Sì. And I didn’t say anything because you really wanted to go back. I’m glad we did, because every time we visit Capri, I fall back in love with the island again.”
“I feel the same.” And when I stifle a yawn with my hand, he adds, “Now, it looks like you need more sleep. Come here.”
I scooch closer to him. This is what being cared for and protected feels like—amazing.
***
Shards of sunlight streak through the curtains, illuminating the room, the pristine whiteness of the empty bedding beside me more painful than the light hitting my grainy vision. He’s gone, and it hurts more today than it has every other time I’ve slept alone since my wedding.
Last night was a lot, and true to his vows, Antonio was there to hold me when I needed him, but now I want more. I don’t just want him to be there when I need him, I want him to be my lover. A husband in every way. Untucking a hand from under my cheek, I reach across the sheet to touch the indent in the pillow where he slept last night. It’s cold, and I swallow down the lump in my throat.Did he even stay the rest of the night like he promised?
No more tears; I shed enough of those yesterday to last me a whole year. Finally sharing with Ant what happened that day has put it back in the past where it belongs. And wallowing in my bed because he wasn’t beside me when I woke this morning won’t change how good it felt to unburden myself.
I throw back the covers, scoot into the bathroom, then go in search of my cell. I think I left it on the counter in the kitchen.
But it’s not only my cell I find when I open the bedroom door. Ant is standing right there, working on his laptop. Damn, he looks good, dressed in navy pants and a white button-down shirt, his hair still damp from a recent shower, and a tilted grin stretching his lips as he glances up to see me. I stutter to a stop.
“Morning, beautiful,” he says cheerfully, like he greets me in the same way every morning. He doesn’t. Normally, he would have left for the office by now.
“Hi.” I wander closer. “What are you doing?”
