Page 87 of Nicoli

I move my legs from side to side and watch the water ripple. “Where do we go from here?”

“Home.”

I splash him with water. “I’m serious. What happens now?”

The flickering candlelight dances across his sapphire eyes. “Get out of the bath.”

“What? Why? I’m really comfortable, and the water is so nice and—”

“Mirabella Del Rossa, get out of the tub.”

My heart skips a beat at him using my name—my new name. Whenever someone calls me Mrs. Del Rossa, I have the overwhelming urge to pinch myself just to make sure it’s real.

Nicoli helps to steady me as I climb out, water and soap suds sliding down my body. I try to grab a towel, but he stops me by pulling me to the center of the bathroom.

“Can I at least cover up a bit?”

“Nope.” He grabs his jacket off the ottoman and reaches into the pocket. “I want you naked for this.”

“Nicoli. You know, tonight was great. In fact, it was so great, I think I’m going to need a timeout for the next two days.”

“That’s adorable,” he says with a frown and a half-smile. “The fact that you think I’m a gentleman who will give his wife’s cunt a timeout.”

I try to reach for a towel again, but he gets there first and tosses it aside. “I said I want you naked for this.”

“For what?”

Nicoli pulls a royal blue velvet box from his jacket and drops the jacket to the floor.

My heart beats a staccato rhythm inside my chest when Nicoli approaches me. I’ll never get used to the way his presence penetrates the air, filling every corner of a room with a dominant energy. He manages to make me forget that I need air because I always find myself breathless when he’s this close.

“I wanted to give you this experience tonight because the truth is, I’m a selfish prick, and when it comes to you, I’m a possessive prick, too.”

I smile. “Is it bad for me to get turned on when you get all possessive?”

“Fuck no. At least now, when I get possessive and do something stupid, I’ll just give you my dick instead of an apology.”

I swat his arm. “Asshole.”

“As I was saying.” He takes my left hand in his, staring at the wet ribbon still tied around my finger. “I had to give you this one night because when we walk out of this apartment tonight, things will be different.”

“Different?”

He opens the velvet box, and I hold my breath as he reveals an emerald shaped diamond in a four-cross-claw setting, the white gold band adorned with pavé petite diamonds.

“Oh my God, Nicoli.”

He takes the ring out of its cushioned confinement and holds it between his fingers. “A wedding in our living room in front of a priest my brother paid, with a ribbon as a wedding ring, was just all kinds of wrong for someone as special and beautiful as you, Hummingbird.” He goes on one knee, and I place my hand on my chest. “And I want to at least try to make this one thing real and as it should be.”

“What are you doing?”

On bended knee, he takes my hand in his, but he doesn’t look up. “About a month after you and Maximo came to live with us, you came into my room one night, and you got into my bed.”

I don’t say a word as I watch him, my heart about to explode out of my chest.

“You thought you were in Maximo’s room and started telling me things you remembered of the night you lost your parents.”

I swallow hard, emotion thickening in my throat.

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