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“No. If this is an arrangement, that’s you holding up your end.”
His face twitches. Have my words offended him? Then he steps forward. “You’re my wife now. No one will ever disrespect you in front of me again without waking up dead the next morning.”
“Yeah, you really brought a new meaning tosleep with the fishes.”
“That was a nice touch, wasn’t it? The piranha tank.”
“Am I sick in the head if I say yes?”
“Not nearly as sick as I am.”
I chuckle. “I won’t argue that, considering you stalked me to a college party and choked a dude out so you could take his costume and be with me instead. He’s okay, right?”
“Hit him with a syringe, actually. Very low probability it killed him.”
“Jesus. That was before we were married, too.”
“You were already mine.”
I look up at him. God, he’s handsome. Something about the way his slightly messy dark hair frames his face. “That was really true in your mind, wasn’t it?”
He takes another step forward, right into my space. “It was true. Period.”
I gulp. “And what made it true?”
“Imade it true. I make my own reality. I fucking wanted you and now you’re mine.”
“And what reality are you trying to make now?”
His eyes drill into me. “You. Naked.”
I blink. “What?”
“If I have to say it again, I’ll take your clothes off for you.”
Shit. He’s not joking. My cheeks starting to flush, I move to obey him, pulling my shirt over my head as he leans against the door frame, watching.
“Everything, Ava.”
It turns me on so much when he gets authoritative like this. I strip off my pants, and then my bra, and finally, the panties.
“Jesus,” Alessandro groans, drinking me in with his eyes. “You are so fucking perfect.” Then he shakes his head, as though snapping himself out of a trance. “Let’s go swimming. I got the pool heating up on our way over here.”
I laugh at the sudden change in tone. “Swimming? I have no idea where any of my swimsuits are. I don’t even know where your guys put my shit.”
He grins. “Your things are in the bedroom. But you won’t be needing a swimsuit.”
“I—what?”
I watch in shock as he pulls off his own shirt, and then the rest of his clothes, too. As though magnetically attracted, my eyes snap to the sharp V-lines at his waist. They extend all the way down to his crotch like they’re carved into a statue. It’s satisfying to realizethat he’s my husband, and I’m allowed to check him out. I guess three hours in the gym could make sense with a body like that.
Also, he looks about halfway hard. Hello.
“Let’s go,” he says, taking my hand.
“Are you sure it’s—”
“I’m sure.” Alessandro leads me out to the balcony, buck naked, and I can barely bring myself to step over the threshold. I feel ridiculously exposed with the entire city stretching before me. It’s broad daylight. The middle of the afternoon.
