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20
Michael
I had woken up in the early hours of the day to find her thrashing about and screaming, trapped in the throes of a nightmare. I had brought her to the island because it’s the only place where I can control everyone’s comings and goings…After making sure that the boathouse no longer holds any boats that she could use to get away from me again…that is. Then I’d taken her to my bedroom…
There is no question in my mind that she belongs here. Not that I am going to touch her. She needs time and space to mend from what happened, not just physically but also emotionally. And clearly, I had been right in bringing her here, for she’d jack-knifed up in bed panting, no doubt, from the images of the debacle she’d been through… Which had been my fault. Because I’d let her leave… I’d told her to leave... Something I am not going to do again… And…
I am going to makes sure that if, for some reason, she does... Or if, somehow, someone else dares to take her away from me, I’ll know where to find her.
All of those thoughts had run through my head as I had reached over to her side of the bed and drawn her close to me. I had made sure to sleep on top of the covers, putting as much distance as possible between us. Because, truly, I don’t want to be tempted to touch her. But comforting her? That’s completely different. She needs me and I am not going to let her down. Not when she, clearly, aches for comfort.
I had wrapped my arms around her, pulled her close, and tucked her head under my chin as I had tried to soothe her. She’d cried in my arms, until finally she’d quietened and fallen asleep. I had held her through the night, and sworn that I’ll never allow her to be in this situation again, where she’s helpless and a victim.
It’s my fault she was kidnapped. By taking her, I had drawn the attention of all of my enemies to her. By keeping her and deciding to marry her, I had proclaimed to the world that I have a weakness—her. I had given those who hate me an opportunity to get to me… Through her. It’s why it’s doubly important to keep her safe. And there is only one way to ensure this. I’m not egoistical enough to think I can keep her 100% protected all the time.
Sooner or later, if someone wants to get to her, they will. And while I will do my utmost to ensure that won’t happen… If... In the event that, God forbid, someone else does get to her again, I have to ensure that I will be able to track her down.
I was lucky this time that Seb had heard about the guy who had seen her being taken and put two and two together. Next time, I may not be this fortunate. She may not be this fortunate. Which means I have to tip the odds in our favor…
There is only one way to ensure that I never lose sight of her, no matter what happens. And while it’s not something I want to do… It’s something I have to do… Something for which she is going to hate me... Something she’d never agree to… Something I don’t have a choice but to impose on her. Something which will make her loath me… That is inevitable.
So, before that happens, I have to sweeten her up to me… Hey, I’m only human, after all. And while I can live with her hate—as long as she is safe, that is—I can, at least, try to get into her good books beforehand, right?
At least, that is my reasoning as I push open the door to what had been her room previously. She walks inside, then halts. Her gaze widens as she takes in the space. Where her bed had once been is a sleek sewing machine. I had bought her a sewing machine to sew her wedding dress, but I decided to replace it with a state-of-the-art, most expensive model on the market. Next to it, the yards of fabric that she had purchased from the fabric shop, along with the various sewing tools that she’d bought that day, are neatly folded and organized. And, yeah, I had added to it by asking thatstronzoGiorgio to bring in anything that she had left behind, just to be safe.
"Wh…what is this?" She blinks rapidly, as she turns to survey the space. "You changed the room completely?"
"It would seem that way, yes." I watch closely as she takes in everything in the space.
She walks over to the worktable next to the sewing machine, opens a sewing kit. She stabs her thumb into a thimble then holds it up, "I see you’ve been shopping."
"Do you like it?"
She drops the thimble back in the kit, then folds her arms around her waist. "When," she says without turning to face me, "when did you manage to do all of this?"
"Don’t worry about that." I take in her flushed features, her bright eyes, "I take it that youdolike it then?"
"I… I am not sure what to say." She shuffles her feet.
"Everything you might possibly need to create is here."
"I can see that," she murmurs, still not meeting my gaze. She walks over to the mannequin in the corner, and runs her finger along the curve of the figure. "I don’t think this is enough."
"It isn’t?" I frown as I take in the mirror on the opposite side, the adjustable shelves with cubbyholes, the rectangular table in the center of the room with enough surface area for her to work on.
"Nah," she turns to me, "I think you left out something very important."
"Eh?" I run my fingers through my hair, "What did I miss? I swear, I bought out that entire blasted shop."
"Clearly, you didn’t research what goes into making a design studio."
Heat flushes my neck. Truth is, I had merely told Giorgio that I wanted everything that she’d possibly need to create in her studio. I hadn’t exactly researched it myself though.Merda!Typical, that she had to catch me out on that, huh?
"So, what’s missing?" I scowl, "Tell me and I’ll make sure to get it for you."
"You sure about that?"
"Of course, I am."
