Page 4 of Etched In Stone
“I’m not,” he admitted, his grin widening as he adjusted his hold on me, making sure I was secure in his arms. “Think of this as a promise.”
His strength was effortless, holding me as if I weighed nothing at all as he carried me up the stone pathway toward our temporary home.
“A promise?” I asked, genuinely curious.
“It’s a promise to always lift you above the ordinary, to take you to places where only we exist, where the rest of the world can’t touch us.”
His words washed over me, leaving a trail of goosebumps in their wake. My heart swelled with so much love for this man that I thought it might burst from my chest. This was Alexander at his most vulnerable, most open, sharing a side of himself that he reserved only for me.
“Alex...” My voice came out fragile, trembling with the weight of emotions I couldn’t quite put into words.
He paused at the threshold, looking down at me with such intensity that I felt exposed, seen in a way that was both thrilling and terrifying.
“I love you, Krystina Stone,” he said simply.
Setting me down with exquisite care, as if I were made of the finest porcelain, Alexander brushed a stray curl from my face. His touch lingered, his fingertips tracing the line of my cheek with reverence. When I began to respond with my own words of affection, he hushed me.
“Shh.” His finger moved to trace my jawline in a tender caress. “Save what you’re thinking for later. Let’s get settled first, and then we’ll have all the time in the world to talk.”
Chapter Four
Krystina
Alexander led me through the entrance and into a space that defied every expectation I’d had. The villa’s open-air design was breathtaking, blurring the lines between the lavish comforts within and the wild, untamed beauty of the island beyond. Floor-to-ceiling openings invited the outside in, while gossamer curtains danced in the breeze that seemed to flow through every room. Sunlight streamed through the generous spaces, dancing across smooth stone floors and casting golden patterns on the walls. Delicate orchids perched like precious jewels in crystal vases, their exotic beauty adding splashes of color.
“Are you hungry?” Alexander asked, leading me through what appeared to be a living area toward the kitchen. “Marcus mentioned they’d prepared some things for us.”
As if summoned by his words, my stomach chose that moment to growl audibly, reminding me that the excitement of our departure and the flight had left little time for proper meals.
“Starving, actually,” I admitted with a laugh as I followed Alexander into a kitchen with gleaming marble countertops. Laid out before us was an elaborate spread—a feast for the senses that was almost too beautiful to disturb.
Fresh tropical fruits were artfully arranged on hand-crafted pottery. There were local specialties I couldn’t immediately identify but that smelled heavenly. And, yes—a selection of Italian pastries that made my mouth water just looking at them.
Alexander selected a piece of mango and offered it to me. The fruit was impossibly sweet, bursting with flavor. Juice ran down my chin despite my best efforts, and Alexander was there immediately with a napkin, his touch gentle as he cleaned my face.
But the gesture was anything but innocent.
His thumb lingered at the corner of my mouth, his eyes darkening as he watched me with an intensity that made my breathing shallow.
“Later,” he murmured, his voice rough with promise. “First, let’s get the layout for the rest of the villa. Make no mistake, before we leave, I’ll have taken you in every room of this place.”
My stomach did a little flip, anxious to get to that part of our honeymoon, as he led me deeper into the intimate haven that was designed for seclusion and romance. Every detail spoke of careful planning, of someone who understood that luxury wasn’t just about expensive things, but about creating experiences, moments, and memories. It was furnished with plush seating that beckoned invitingly, while French doors opened onto terraces that seemed to float among the treetops, offering glimpses of the ocean beyond. The lavishness around me was almost overwhelming, the kind of luxury I had only dreamed of before Alexander swept into my life and turned everything upside down.
One would think I’d be used to it by now, after months of being part of his world, but I wasn’t sure I’d ever become completely accustomed to this level of lavishness. There was a part of me that still felt like a fraud—like someone playing dress-up in a life that belonged to someone else.
Low from hidden speakers throughout the villa, soft island music drifted through the air—a sultry blend of steel drums, distant congas, and a slow rhythm guitar that pulsed like a heartbeat. The melody was sensual and hypnotic, echoing the sounds of a tropical night, as if the ocean itself had set the rhythm for desire.
When we reached the primary bedroom, I couldn’t hold back my gasp of disbelief. The room was a fantasy made apparent. A massive canopy bed dominated the space, its frame crafted from what looked like driftwood polished to a soft gleam. Silk sheets in shades of cream and gold covered the king-sized mattress, whispering promises of the nights to come. Gossamer curtains surrounded the bed like a cloud, creating an intimate sanctuary within the larger room. The entire far wall was open to a private terrace that overlooked the ocean, where I could see an infinity pool that seemed to blend seamlessly with the horizon beyond.
“Wow… It’s hard to believe this place it real.”
“It’s as real as it gets, angel,” Alexander said, moving to stand behind me, his hands settling on my hips. “I wanted only the best for our honeymoon. You deserve nothing less.”
Every detail of this place spoke of Alexander’s thoughtful planning, his ability to anticipate needs I didn’t even know I had. He knew how to touch my soul without saying a word, enveloping me in a love so profound that it seemed to resonate in the very air I breathed.
My throat tightened with emotion as I considered everything that had brought us to this moment. The past eight months had been a whirlwind—so much had happened during our intense, passionate courtship—if one would call it that. No one would ever consider Alexander and I conventional. There was the kidnapping that had left me hospitalized for weeks, and the trauma that had forced us both to confront our deepest fears. But the worst were the terrible secrets that had emerged about Alexander’s family, decades-old lies that had shattered everything he thought he knew about his past.
We’d been tested in ways that might have destroyed other couples, but somehow, we’d emerged stronger and more committed—more certain that what we had was worth fighting for. The enormity of finally being here, finally being free to focus on just us without the weight of external demands, caused tears to sting the backs of my eyes. I shook my head, trying to organize my thoughts.
