Page 45 of Dare To Love Me

I winced and bit my lip. I felt bad knowing this sweet woman had cleaned it up.

Then she practically shoved me into a chair and began to pull out the fixings for sandwiches, not even bothering to try and ask me what I liked. She even made one for James. At first he refused. She scolded him in Italian and he reluctantly sat and ate at the table. I got her to tell me her name—Nova—, but before I could try for anymore, she scurried away back to her cleaning.

I had nothing to do so I spent the rest of the day exploring. The house had four guest bedrooms with full baths, a dinning room and a living area. An entertaining room and what I assumed was Luca’s office, but when I tried to go in James wouldn’t let me.

There was also a study, that I decided was my favorite room in the house. It faced the back yard, with the entire wall constructed of glass from floor to ceiling. I loved the amount of natural light it let in, giving you the illusion of being outside. There was also a fire place and lazy-boy chairs. It looked like the perfect place to curl up in front of a fire and watch it rain.

I couldn’t resist retrieving my violin from my room. I practiced the song for the wedding for an hour. Not having my tablet meant I had to play without background music but it didn’t matter, I could play that song in my sleep.

There was one other room I hadn’t looked in yet. The master bedroom. When James didn’t stop me I walked inside on flighty feet.

It was like walking into a storm. The walls were a deep stone blue with black and white pictures. The massive four poster bed made of rich dark hickory dominated the space, adorned with a rain-cloud colored comforter. The feeling strong and yet calming, like the sound of waves on a beach.

The bathroom was almost as large as my apartment. The shower beautifully made of dark stone tiles that also surrounded the soaking tub. I looked at the tub and moaned. Soaking in a bath was one of my favorite things. Lights off, lots of candles. Heaven.

Entering the closet I became overwhelmed by an outrageous number of suits. Not just any suits, but expensive and tailor made. Luca could probably wear a different suit every day for months. His casual clothes all looked untouched, half his jeans still had tags on them. I thought back to the night before, remembering how his ass looked in his designer denim. I ran my fingers along the fabric of a folded pair.

I jerked my hand away as my guilt blindsided me. This should be my room too. My stuff should be next to his in the bathroom, my clothes filling half the closet. And the sheets on the bed, I should already know how soft they felt against my skin. The guilt snaked its way around my ribcage and squeezed, my skin turned cold.

I gave my word to be his wife.

How wrong am I for not letting a man touch his own wife?

I hurried out of the room.

It was true, I was his wife. He had every right to me, as I did to him, but we were still more or less strangers. I still didn’t trust him enough to give him my body, which I knew for a fact was now attached to my heart. If I gave him one, I would lose the other. The way he pulled me in with just a look was dangerous. Drawing me in with that invisible force until my feet were begging to go to him. It was undeniable, as was my physical desire for him.

The war was raging inside me, with both sides gaining little ground.

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