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His laughter was muffled by her hair. He shifted to her side so that they were lying spoon-fashion, her back against his chest, his arm curled around her waist possessively, and his erection pressing against her back.
“Domenico!” she gasped.
“It doesn’t matter if we don’t do it. I can still make you happy. And I do, don’t I?”
“Yes, but...”
“You want to make love to me?”
She nodded.
“So much?”
Misty sighed and said almost miserably, shamefully, “Yes.”
His laughter rocked the bed.
Misty’s eyes widened and she looked at him in panic, hoping the sound did not wake any of her siblings “Ssh!”
“You’re priceless.” He rolled her back to her original position, making her gasp as he loomed above her like a wild pagan god. “You know that, don’t you?’
“Er…”
“You are,” he said firmly.
Nuzzling her neck, he murmured, “Anything eventful happened today?”
She gave him a sanitized version of her time at work.
He raised a brow. “What was the guy’s name? The one you spoke to at the rooftop?”
Her forehead furrowed. “I…I don’t think I asked.” She shook her head wryly. “I forgot to.”
Domenico nodded. “Ah.” But it was interesting. If Jayme had not given his name and yet Misty made an impression on him already, then he’d have no reason to doubt Misty’s sincerity at all. Things were going even better than he had planned and it was all because of Misty.
~~~~
Be sociable!
That was what the guy at the rooftop told her. Since Misty so wanted to be a perfect wife, she was determined to be everything he would need in a wife. If that meant she had to be sociable, then she was going to be the most approachable employee in Lyccan Hall even if it killed her.
Armed with her smile and push cart, Misty entered the first office, now wearing sensible shoes to match her equally sensible uniform. She had snuck out of Domenico’s home wearing a semi-casual two-piece suit but changed into her mail girl uniform when she arrived at Lyccan Hall.
Most people ignored Misty after giving her a sly glance, but she was fast becoming immune to such reactions.
A girl at the end of the office in the third floor caught her eye. Hers was the only messy table around, with documents heaped on top of each other to form a leaning tower of folders.
“Hi. Any mail?” She smiled at the girl.
“Oh…uh…yes…I have to look for it, though…” Short hair and glasses made the girl look incredibly young, and her flustered look just made her seem even younger than Misty’s initial opinion. More papers fell to the floor.
Misty bent down to pick the papers up. “First day?”
“Mmmm….actually I’ve been working here for almost a month.”
Misty reddened. “Oh. Sorry.”
“It’s ok. Actually, I’m just a part-timer here so I don’t really get to make friends in the office.”
She nodded understandingly. “And so you find it uncomfortable to ask for help from them.” She nodded towards the papers. “If I could make a suggestion?”
“Sure.” The young girl looked at her hopefully.
Misty taught her the filing tricks she had picked up in Moretti Inc., mainly because most people had assumed she would file the documents she had proofread and she was too much of a wimp to say otherwise.
The girl’s face brightened after Misty also showed her how to create her own database for easier file management. “Oh. That makes sense. Thank you!” She smiled shyly. “I’m Penny, by the way.”
“Misty Wall. I, umm, liaise for the Moretti pack.” It felt like she was campaigning, but oh well.
“Oh. That’s nice. I’m from the Buenaventura pack,” Penny revealed. She glanced at the digital clock display on top of the filing cabinets. “Maybe we can have a coffee break later before clocking out?”
Misty followed Penny’s gaze and almost groaned at the time. Any second more spent dallying would have her head bitten off by Rebecca again – for the fifth time even.
But as it turned out, she was already too late.
When Misty reached the mail department, Rebecca was already there, tapping her foot impatiently as she gazed at Misty’s approach behind her cart with narrowed dark eyes.
“Good afternoon, Ms. Findley.”
“What took you so long?”
“I’m sorry, Ms. Findley. It won’t happen again.” There was no sense telling Rebecca about Penny’s dilemma. It might just get the younger girl in trouble.
“Is getting mail so hard for someone like you?”
Misty heard a snicker but forced herself to remain calm even though she had a strong urge to cry. She should be used to being treated like this. She had to have faith in Domenico. There was surely a good reason he hadn’t made it clear she was his wife-to-be and not his mistress.
“It won’t happen again,” she repeated.
“It better not or I’m going to report you to Mr. Cavalier myself.” Rebecca shoved past her, strong enough to have Misty hit the wall and bruising her in the process. Her shoulder blazed in pain, but she wasn’t going to show it, aware of how people around her were waiting for her to make a scene.
A short while later and Misty was staring at the mirror, aghast at how ugly the bruise was. ‘Strong’ was definitely an understatement when describing Lyccan women. It was like she had been shoved by a sumo wrestler.
Someone entered the restroom, and Misty quickly rearranged her clothes to cover the bruise.
The woman was sniffing but when she saw Misty, a glare immediately replaced the look of hurt in her face. “What are you staring at?”
Ignoring that, Misty asked in quiet concern, “Are you all right?”
“Like you’d really care.” The woman went to her side and began washing her hands. Her face was heavily made up, making her look older and more unattractive but it was easy for Misty to see the youth and promise of real beauty underneath the cosmetics.
“I know all about you. You’re the infamous Moretti mistress.”
Misty inclined her head. “That’s what people say.”
The woman looked at her suspiciously. “You won’t deny it?”
“Will you believe me if I do?” Misty countered helplessly.
The woman laughed harshly. “You have a point.”
“Are you really all right?”
