AllFreeNovel
Share Us
Totally twisted up.
“Sebastian, you’re back. I hope everything went as planned,” the hotel owner, Alex, greeted me at the hotel reception. He was an older Italian guy who’d inherited this hotel from his family or rather, ripped it away from his sister who went bankrupt. We’d known each other for years. I was certain he’d keep my secret because the stuff I knew about him would have him killed by the Italian mob within twenty-four hours, were I to leak it out into the world. That was good insurance. Better than staying at a large, impersonal hotel with thousands of staff and no way of controlling the situation.
“Yes, everything is fine. This area is truly spectacular,” I said.
Marinka joined me a moment later, looking even more beautiful now than in the church. I couldn’t take my eyes off her and when Alex’s lustful gaze raked over her body, I had the unholy urge to punch him. Marinka was mine and I needed him to understand that, or I’d ruin him.
“And this must be your young bride. It’s a pleasure to meet you, Ms. Dimitrei,” he said, taking her hand and pasting his filthy lips on her flesh. I clenched my fists, struggling for control. I had to let it go. This guy was Italian and they were always overwhelming when it came to any woman. She belonged to me either way and that slimy bastard could look at her all he wanted, but he wasn’t going to touch her.
Marinka looked uncomfortable and when he finally left, I was in a much better mood.
“I will wait for you in the restaurant downstairs,” I said and she nodded, heading towards the lift.
The hotel had few guests currently as it wasn’t high season. I took off my jacket, glad the air wasn’t as stifling here as back in the church.
Being close to Marinka was suffocating at times because all I could think about was how much I wanted to fuck her. I needed to put aside any emotional attachment but that kiss in the church changed everything. One stupid kiss awakened a strong desire and I wanted nothing more than to lock her in my bedroom, tie her up on the bed, and devour her body until she couldn’t take it anymore. Until she was mine.
17
Marinka
Back in my hotel room,I stood in front of the mirror and touched my lips, thinking what a bad idea it had been to kiss him at the altar. A huge mistake … because now I knew what he tasted like and I wanted more.
His lips had devoured me, sending unsettling heat all over my body. The blood in my veins reached boiling point and when he pulled away, I knew he felt it too. This sensation penetrated the numbness, warming me from the inside out. For a second, I thought he must have forgotten we weren’t supposed to enjoying any of this and yet, I had. Iwas.
I am enjoying myself entirely too much…
I allowed myself to be lost in him, to entertain a silly fantasy and think about him as my husband. He was always so cool, with a solid grip on his icy control, but not in that church. There, I saw a different side of him. Since we left Chicago, he was the guy who looked after me and took care of all my needs. In that church, he wasn’t as in charge of his emotions as he normally was. Something was happening and I had no idea what.
I flinched as I pulled myself out of my thoughts and started taking my dress off, remembering that he was waiting for me downstairs. This whole wedding was exactly how I would have imagined my real one to be—not that I ever thought about it. But now that it happened, this really struck me as true and I wasn’t sure what to make of that. The Frenchwoman who showed up in my room was so nice and sweet. Sebastian had really done well by choosing her. He’d thought about everything and I was a little surprised we had similar taste. Madame Bois had presented me with a few dresses and I picked the simplest one. I didn’t like anything over-the-top and I looked so incredible once my makeup and hair were done, too. Like a comfortable stranger in my own skin.
The panoramic views we enjoyed during the drive to the church were incredible. Even the priest was an amicable man I would have picked to perform the ceremony. Were it not for the truth, I’d have been privileged to call myself Sebastian’s wife.
“You were sold to him. One kiss doesn’t change any of this,” I told myself with a sigh.
I walked over to my wardrobe and selected a new dress that was gifted to me by the French lady. This one was yellow and a bit short, covering only enough of my upper my thighs, but I liked it very much. I normally didn’t wear anything that revealing, but it was my wedding day. I wanted to look sexy.
The scars were still there and Sebastian knew about them, but I felt a little self-conscious when I put it on. He’d created this dream wedding for me and I couldn’t deny the fact that despite what he had done, I was attracted to him.
I put on a pair of flat white sandals Madame Boie had left me to go with the outfit. Obviously, Sebastian must have paid for all of it, so technically I could wear whatever I wanted. Besides, it was so hot outside. We did sometimes get this kind of heat in Chicago, but the climate of Saint-Tropez was decidedly more humid.
I ran downstairs feeling confident, which was odd because I never felt like that.
I was looking forward to spending some time with my new husband. Sebastian sat at the bar, drinking whiskey on the rocks. He must have sensed me approaching because he turned around to look at me. My breath caught in my chest when his gaze traveled over my body. I suddenly felt naked, vulnerable while he was peeling my clothes off with his eyes. My belly swooped and dived, stealing my breath.
His expression was unreadable when we were shown our table and I sat down. The waiter handed us the menu.
“The food is good here,” Sebastian said. As we studied the selections, I glanced at the wedding ring on my finger. It was plain gold, but the sight of it gave me goosebumps.
After several more agonizing minutes, we managed to ordered the food. Well, Sebastian chose a lobster for me because apparently, I needed to try it as I never ate anything like that. So much for him telling me I should choose whatever I wanted. He was still an ass.
Moments later, the owner, the same guy who greeted us by the reception, came bearing a bottle of champagne. I had a feeling Sebastian trusted this man because he must have known about our wedding. Also, we were the only guests in the restaurant today.
“Bellissima.Look at you. Beautiful,” he complemented me in his Italian way. I gave him a faint smile when he placed a glass of champagne in front of me.
“Oh no, thank you. I better not.”
“Nonsense, you must celebrate it. We all must have a toast for your future,” he announced.
