Page 75 of Jude

I’d stalk into her office for lunch or invent nonexistent meetings to keep her in my line of sight.

I was also hit with an aggressive, possessive need to spoil her.

I made sure she had access to a generous expense account to shop with.

I even brought in a stylist named Vivienne to upgrade her wardrobe.

She handled the image direction for my music label and dealt with high-profile clients with discretion.

Vivienne appeared one Saturday morning to give Sofia a private, top-tier styling session, decking her out in the latest pieces from trending fashion labels.

‘Jude, want to have a look?’

Sofia’s inviting voice lured me to her door.

I stood leaning on the jamb of the guest suite, my arms crossed over my chest, eyes on her.

Vivienne was zip-fastening Sofia into a tailored black dress that clung to every curve of her waist and hips.

Sofia turned toward the full-length mirror, her eyes gleaming, a gasp escaping her throat.

She smoothed her palms over the material, her face lighting up.

‘Jude, look at this,’ she breathed, spinning to face me, her cheeks flushed, vibrating with thrill. ‘The cut, the fabric, I feel like a different person. Are you real right now? Is all of this really for me?’

I arched a brow and lifted my chin. ‘All yours, babe.’

Vivienne stepped back, folding her tape measure with an approving nod.

‘She’s stunning, Jude. Your fans and the press are going to lose their minds when they see her.’

‘This isn’t for the publicity; it’s for her pleasure,’ I growled, my timbre rough, eyes fixed on Sofia.

I scarcely noticed when Vivienne gathered her garment bags and slipped out of the room, heading downstairs and out the front door.

Left alone with my wife, my heart twisted with yearning.

Sofia beamed up at me, stepping closer, taking hold of my arm.

My heart lurched.

‘I feel so dolled up,’ she whispered, her eyes shining up at mine. ‘I don’t even know where we’d wear half of these dresses, but Dio mio, grazie Jude. Thank you so much.’

When her soft lips pressed on my cheek in a warm, lingering kiss of gratitude, the blood in my veins turned to liquid fire.

My cock hardened with a fierce, sudden ache that made my jaw lock.

All I could think of was wanting to grab her by the waist and throw her onto that bed where I’d rip that green dress off her skin to mark every inch of her.

Instead, I clenched my fists as I crossed them over my chest, fighting the hunger roaring inside me, on the verge of losing the war against restraint.

‘Like I keep saying, you don’t need to thank me,’ I rumbled.

I forced myself to step back, breaking her touch before I lost my grip.

‘You’re my wife, and I don’t do cheap. You get the best of everything. End of story.’

I found it hard to be away from her.