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“Do you have to shout?”
He grins widely, not saying a word, but just crossing his arms while staring at me.
Creep!
“Well, do you?” I ask.
“Yes! I had to shout through all the racket,” he says.
Shit. Was I snoring again? I wipe my mouth and am relieved that this time, there’s no drooling. My memory flashes back to the flight. The woman asked to be moved not only because of the smell, but the noise too.
I must have been snoring on the flight too. I didn’t understand what she meant until now.
“As soon as this deal is done, I’m taking you to the doctor to sort that out. It’s getting worse every day, and we’ve only been married for two days.”
“Well, I have been traveling for twenty-four hours. I’m tired. Exhausted. Being married to you is tiring.”
“We’ve hardly been together since we tied the knot.”
¡Gracias a Dios!4
“This isn’t going to work,” we say in unison.
And I think he’s going to get out, but he doesn’t. He’s so close to me on the bed, that I can hear his heartbeat. I look into his eyes, trying to read his thoughts.Does he really want me here?
I grab his neck and press my lips against his, and then in an instant, he’s crushing me to him with a hunger that’s so powerful I feel as if I’m going to lose my mind. He’s sandwiching my body between his chest and the bed. His tongue explores my mouth greedily, darting and teasing, as if it wants no part of it untouched.
I can hardly breath as I try to kiss him back, but I’m struggling as he takes full control. Diego’s so powerful and determined as he pulls me closer that I feel boneless in his hands.
I can feel a throbbing hardness as he lies on top of me on the bed, and he grinds against me. An intense desire rushes through me and pools between my legs.
I smile and enjoy his touch. I don’t regret making the first move for a second, because he’s fighting it. I thought he was at times when he turns away from me. But then I hate it when he stops himself from giving in to his desires.
“¡Dios mío!” He shakes his head and gets up.
“Diego, what’s wrong? You want me. I want you …”
Before I can even finish my sentence, the old Diego, the one who has been nothing but cruel to me, turns around and says, “Get changed. Your teacher is waiting.”
I bite my lip, and then it’s as if he’s awakened once again. But then his eyes narrow as he moves away from the bed, letting me think that what happened between us was a mistake.
It wasn’t.
He’s kidding himself if he thinks I will believe for a second that he didn’t want to kiss me.
“Your clothes are there.” He points to the closet.
Where else would they be?
A tear escapes my eye as he leaves me in the room. I’ve felt like this before with my ex, the whole hot and cold thing, until he cheated on me, and I realized that he never wanted me in thefirst place. It’s cruel, but I have to remind myself that I’m not his wife. I signed the register as Belén, not myself, so I’m helping this guy out. Nothing more, and I have to remember my place, which will most likely be back as his secretary when all is said and done.
¡Madre mía!5
I gasp as I head to the closet to see one kimono after another. There’s a whole range of them, from gold to black, and not only are the dresses hung up, but underneath is an array of shoes to match. Heels, sandals, slingbacks—it’s as if Diego knows my taste.
I can’t help but admire the exquisite colorful fabrics. Like a kid in a candy store, I quickly get rid of my pj’s and put one on. A black one with long, flowing sleeves that drape gracefully as I move, and the obi, a wide sash, cinches my waist, adding an elegant touch.
I did a little research on my way here seeing as I had so much time in between flights. I love the kimonos, and I checked out how to put them on. So, I have no issue getting dressed, so underneath the kimono, I wear a juban, a lightweight and smooth undergarment that ensures comfort. The obi is tied in a beautiful and elaborate knot at the back, creating a striking focal point.
