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Christian saw Zoe roll her eyes and he wanted to join her, but he decided to annoy her instead. “You heard him, sweet cheeks. Get into our cozy nest.”
“I’m going to make you pay for this,” she hissed, but he saw a twinkle in her eyes. She wasn’t entirely upset at the notion. She yanked the covers back and slid in, keeping the white fabric draped around her.
Christian stripped. Most of the world had seen him bare-assed at one time or another. He joined her, but she scooted as far away from him as possible without actually leaving the bed.
“Sweetheart, don’t be shy. Take off the sheet and hug your husband.”
“But you still have coffee and cigarette breath. The two smells that make me want to vomit the most,” she said sweetly.
Two could play at this game. Christian tugged the sheet away as she made a hasty grab for the comforter, revealing glimpses of her lush body. “The baby making you sick, love?”
Zoe’s mouth opened and closed like a fish. Her eyes slid over to the photographer and his entourage. “I am not pregnant.”
They nodded at her, then whispered to each other.
Christian took advantage of the distraction they provided as she once again tried to protest. He pulled her close and threw his leg over her thighs, effectively trapping her against him as he nuzzled her forehead. “Stop denying it, or they’ll think you’re bullshitting them.”
“But honey, you know what the doctor said about your impotence.” She smirked. “How’s that?”
Her smile evaporated as he kissed the side of her mouth. “Sweetheart, the video we made last night says otherwise. Shall I get my cell out to remind you?” He lowered his voice. “It’s not you in it, but since the woman’s face is never shown, I can claim otherwise.” Actually, he was bluffing and all other women had been permanently erased from his memory and hard drives since meeting Zoe. Except for one. His memories of Amber needed to be exorcised from his soul.
“I can’t believe you have that on your phone.”
“Maybe I do and maybe I don’t.” He prayed she’d backed down.
Her face turned pink and she buried it in his chest. “Fine.”
As it turned out, the afternoon of pictures resulted in pure torture for him. Every time they were repositioned, her br**sts or bum would press against him and his body would respond in kind. He was going to have permanent blue balls from all the erections he’d had in the past week. His only consolation was that she wasn’t immune to him. Her ni**les were hard, her panties were damp and her breaths were coming out in little pants.
He slid his hand down her back. She let out a little sigh, melting into him. If only the cameras weren’t here. He would peel away the flimsy barrier of clothes and wrap her legs around his waist. She would make those little sounds in the back of her throat that he loved to hear while she rocked against him, soaking him with her arousal.
Sweat broke out on his forehead as he grew rock hard. Concentrating on the top of Zoe’s head, he willed his erection away.
Baxter snapped picture after picture. “Much better. You two aren’t fighting each other anymore. Zoe, put your left hand on his jaw. Ian put your right hand on the back of her neck, cupping it softly and titling her face up to yours.”
She made the first move. He cupped her elegant neck, dark hair falling in silky waves and tickling his skin. Her eyes met his, pale jades, olives and forest greens infusing the irises. Plump lips barely parted as she pressed closer to him. Pearled ni**les scraped his chest.
“Let’s take five while I get a new memory stick,” Baxter announced.
“Christian?”
“Yes, love,” he said as her lashes swept down. His heart swelled. In a million years, he never thought he’d find someone like Zoe.
“Please pull up the sheet. Baxter’s assistants keep tugging it down to my waist.”
“No one can actually see anything, and the pictures will photoshopped to show the ‘real us’.”
She turned so that her next breath highlighted his ear. “Please, I’ve never been nude in front of anyone. I mean, my doctor, my momma, Melanie and Eva have seen me, but that doesn’t count.”
He froze. “What about the guy who broke your heart.”
“Not exactly.”
How did she not exactly get nude to have sex—wait, there were tons of ways to do that. “What about your ex?”
Silky hair tickled his nose. “No.”
Her ex had never seen her sans clothing? “Why not?”
“Gabriel wanted to wait until after we were married, and I agreed with him.”
He waited for her to elaborate, then decided it wasn’t really any of his business. She hadn’t asked him to name all the women he’d slept with, and he was being a dick for doing it to her. But asking for a specific period of time wasn’t the same. At least that’s what he told himself before asking, “How long has it been?”
“Promise you won’t laugh?”
Laughing was nowhere near any of the reactions he was having at the moment. “You have my word.”
“Over four years,” came her answer, flooring him. Staring at the top of her head, he tried processing what she said. Tried to wrap his mind around someone consciously making the decision to abstain for so long.
“That’s a really long time.”
“I know,” she said. “Will you cover me up now?”
Feeling like an ass for making her play twenty questions, he pulled the sheet up to her shoulders. “Better?”
“Thank you,” she murmured before kissing him.
“That’s the shot we’ve been looking for.” Baxter crowed, the camera once again digitally freezing every move. “This will have them talking for weeks. Months. Every major magazine and Internet site will have this splashed all over their front pages.”
They broke apart and she met his eyes once more, in their depths a sweet vulnerability. Zoe was his wife.
His to cherish and protect, not sell out.
“Bring Mrs. Romanov’s robe and then get the hell out.”
Baxter stared at him, sputtering, “But, but that last shot.”
Christian merely raised a brow. “I’ll triple what you’ve been promised, but the price includes everything.”
“Including this?” Baxter waved the memory stick.
“Especially that.”
Chapter Twenty
Zoe took a deep breath, then smiled at her laptop’s camera. “Last night I got married to Ian Romanov.”
