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Antonio grabs my skirt and panties from the floor. I reach to take them from him, but he shakes his head, and begins to dress me, with the utmost care. I’ve been undressed before, but no man, or woman, has ever dressed me—at least not as an adult. Not until today—when Antonio Huntsman with his strong hands and nimble fingers decided that it was his pleasure.
He deems the panties expendable and wads them into a ball before shoving them into his pocket. After my skirt and top are on, Antonio steps out of the room and returns with my sweater. His fingers seem much too large for the dainty pearl buttons, but he doesn’t stop until the last one is tethered. Having him fuss over me makes me feel like a little girl.Like a cherished little girl.And helpless—I don’t like that feeling, and I manage to push it away by distracting myself with the mess around me.
“We need to clean up,” I whisper, surveying the room. It’s not a total disaster, but it reeks of sex and booze and too much fun.
“Not tonight. I’ll cap the bottles. The rest can wait until tomorrow.”
He picks the plug up off the table and wraps it in a cloth napkin before sliding it into his pocket. I don’t mention how disgusting it is to have that thing in a pocket, because God knows I don’t know how else we’d get it out of here.I’ll sanitize the table in the morning before Victor has a chance to get in here.
“Come here,” he says, placing a tender kiss on my head before scooping me into his arms.
The sense of helplessness is back, and it makes me feel too vulnerable. “I can walk.”
“You need to drink some water. You carry these.” He hands me three small bottles of water. “I’ll carry you.”
“This is silly,” I whine.
“I’ll decide what’s silly. You’re still not that steady on your feet. I promised you earlier that nothing would happen to you tonight. And I’m sure as hell not breaking that promise now.”
The house is quiet as he carries me up the stairs. Neither of us says a word until he sets me on my feet outside Valentina’s suite. “Go in and check on her. I’ll wait here.”
I gaze up at him—he remembered. I’d forgotten. It would have occurred to me at some point, and I would have berated myself as I climbed out of bed and trekked down the hall to check on her.But he remembered.
This is what it’s like to raise a child with a partner. One person picks up the slack when the other’s mind is somewhere else. It’s how Isabel and I operated too.
I touch his cheek. “I’ll only be a minute.”
“I’m not going anywhere.”
All bravado and lying to myself aside, those are the words I’ve been hoping to hear since I was a young girl. But I don’t let myself get swept away by vowels and consonants strung together that aren’t backed up by actions. Even though my true heart wants him to stay for a lifetime, my brain knows he’s talking about the moment.
* * *
It takesme just a few seconds to pull up the covers Valentina kicked off, and I use the rest of the time to admire her.My brave, strong girl.My miracle sleeping so peacefully.
She deserves to live every day in peace.I can’t tell her about the rape.I have to find another way.
I take one last peek before I turn off the overhead light in the sitting room and shut the door behind me.
“She asleep?” Antonio asks, putting away his phone.
I smile. “She didn’t bat an eyelash, even when I covered her.”
He wraps his arm around my shoulder and pulls me into his side. “Before you sleep, you need a shower,Princesa.”
“Are you suggesting I stink?”
“Of me. I’d like nothing more than to keep you dirty like this all the time, my scent all over your gorgeous body like cheap perfume, but I suspect you’ll sleep better if you’ve showered.”
I’m bone-tired, but I do need a shower. “Just a quick one.”
He leads me directly to our bathroom and turns on the water while we undress. I can barely keep my eyes open.
After checking the water temperature, Antonio pulls me into the shower.
“Sit.” He motions to the marble bench that spans the width of the space, before unhooking the handheld shower head from the wall.
“Tip your head back,” he instructs, spraying warm water over my hair. After he works the lather into my scalp, he rinses the suds and reaches for conditioner. It feels heavenly to have Antonio massaging my scalp, but there’s also something about it that feels too indulgent, as though I’m helpless.It’s too much.
