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He stifled a grin.
“Here’s your copy of the pictures and video of your wedding,” the manager of the chapel said, handing Christian a flash drive decorated with faux diamonds.
“Thanks,” Christian said. Zoe would be enormously pleased when she had a chance to view them. She had oohed and ahhed over all the Wall of Matrimonial Bliss. Such a little romantic he’d married.
His little romantic fell on her butt.
“Sorry, it’s the champagne,” she said, her words slurring. “Champagne. CHAM-pagne. Does that word sound funny to you? Cham-PAGNE.” The ring fell in her lap. “Darn it, my wedding ring slipped again. It’s too big for me. Like you.”
At least she was a happy drunk unlike his mother who’d wept and railed at the world over what a bastard his father was until the day she’d left. Although, he was inclined to agree with her assessment of Vladimir.
He brushed away the melancholy thoughts.
After texting Sasha, again, when he didn’t reply, he sat beside Zoe, but she had other ideas and parked herself in his lap. He groaned as her cute bum ground into his groin.
“You okay? Want me to kiss your owie?”
His what? “I’m okay.”
“No, you’re not.” She plunged her hands between his legs.
“Carefu—ow,” he yelped as her fingers pinched him on the thigh. Now the word made complete sense.
She grabbed his hand, holding it up to the light. “I’m really sorry I stabbed you.” Her lips were gentle as they moved over the faint scar. “Poor baby.”
“It’s nothing, Zoe.”Actually, he quite liked the fuss she made over him.
“Love,” she said.
“What?”
“I love it when you call me love. No one calls me love, but you. No one loves me, but you.” Her hand crept around his neck. “And I love you, too. Only you, my husband and I lahve him. You.”
She tried kissing him, missed and nearly high-fived the wall with her face. He managed to stop her just in time by grabbing her shoulders. He pressed a kiss to the top of her head.
“Are you going to start singing again? The couple in front of us did enjoy your rendition of “Somebody to Love” and you had the entire chapel joining in on the chorus.” Christian smiled fondly at the recent memory.
“Wise men say, only fools rush in,” she sang in her off-key, but sweet voice. She leaned back in his arms and gazed up at him. “I forgot the rest. Sing it to me.”
“You did not and that’s not the right song.”
“Just a little bit of singing, please.” She batted her lashes at him, and he caved faster than sandcastle hit by a wave.
“Somebody to love,” he sang softly.
“I knew it.” She curled against him. “You remembered our song.”
He held her close, stroking her back until he thought she’d fallen asleep. It ate at him that he couldn’t remember meeting her, much less their first kiss. And God help him if he was right about it being more than a kiss. A mixture of shame and remorse tried to invade his soul, but he held the emotions at bay. Surely, if it was that important, that involved, she would tell him.
After all she’d told him about the man that had broken her heart.
“I’m ready for my honeymoon, Mr. Romanov.”
So was he, but making love to an inebriated woman was high on his list of things he never did anymore. “You’re drunk.”
“Am not,” she argued, kissing his neck.
He shivered. “We’ll see.”
***
“Make love to me,” she pleaded.
“We can’t,” Christian insisted, but his body had other ideas and his arse stayed firmly planted beside her.
What the hell was he doing anyway? It had all started with a good night kiss and had quickly turned into her pulling him to the bed. And of course he’d followed her down. And of course it had made complete sense to kiss her again.
Her toes caressed his ankles while her hands explored the inside of his shirt, rubbing her palms against his chest. And he was acting like a damn schoolboy, running his fingers through her long, silky hair and tickling the side of her face with one of the flowers he plucked from the crown she’d made.
“Yes, we can. All you have to do is insert part C into part Z,” she teased.
He made another pass with the petals of the rose he was holding, highlighting her eyebrows. “You’ve got an instruction manual in your carry-on?” he murmured, pressing his lips against hers.
“It’s written in the language of love.”
“I speak that particular language fluently.” Oh, good God. Someone make it stop. She’d kill him when she remembered the ridiculous lines he’d just used on her.
“Be my tutor.” Her tongue slid in his mouth to coax and tease until his followed. When she sucked on it, his dick throbbed in response.
Holy hell, he had to stop while he could. “Zoe, you’re drunk and I don’t want you to regret this.” He pulled away, resting his head on the pillow beside her. He closed his eyes as her hands ran up and down his back.
“I wouldn’t. Not one bit,” she said, her words feathery light in his ear. She scooted closer, her curvy body molding to his once more.
He untangled his body from hers and sat up, shoving his legs over the side of the bed and gripping the covers so he wouldn’t touch her again. “It’s not that I don’t want to because, God help me I do.”
“Wait! I have to tell you something,” she said, tugging at his shirt. “It’s really important. My name—”
“Just a minute, love.” He jumped up from the bed and strode into the bathroom, splashing cold water on his face. “No touching the wife. Keep your damn hands to yourself. She’s drunk.” Grimacing, he swiped a hand towel over his face. “Now all you have to do is go in there, tell her good night and sleep in one of the other five bedrooms in this place. Alone. Again.”
Just how many times could they come so close, but never finish? Only for tonight. One more night and then he’d make love to her until he couldn’t or keeled over.
He blew out a long breath, confident he could resist her. He walked back to the bedroom to find his bride sound asleep, with one hand under her cheek and her lips slightly parted.
Gazing at the ceiling, he mouthed a ‘thank you’.
After covering her up and pressing a chaste kiss to her forehead, he tilted his head from side to side and joints popped, relieving some tension. He ached to join her. And why shouldn’t he? He could wake her up in the morning with kisses and—
