I burst into laughter. My head falls back, my eyes close and I laugh. Really hard. I have tears and all. I can’t stop, and he lets me have my moment, waiting patiently with my toothbrush hovering in front of my mouth. ‘I’m sorry!’ I chuckle. ‘I’m really sorry.’ I wipe my eyes and home straight in on a pair of curious greens, a raised brow and a chewed lip. ‘It is quite funny, though.’
‘I’m glad you find it amusing. Open your mouth.’
I let my jaw drop open and he sets about brushing my teeth for me. When he’s done, he runs a cool wash cloth over my brow before scooping me up and transporting me to the bed. My eyes widen when I clock the headboard. It’s mangled, with strips of wood all splintered and hanging off.
‘In you get.’ He places me on the edge, and I waste no time crawling up and snuggling down, letting out a long, contented sigh.
I turn over and watch him undress, my greedy gaze drinking in his perfection. ‘I can’t believe I’m spending my first night as your wife in one of your torture chambers.’ The unpleasant thought has me shifting slightly and wondering who has been in this bed and what has gone down. Suddenly I want to get out.
‘No one has slept in this bed, Ava.’ He knows what I’m thinking.
I frown. ‘They’ve not?’
He smiles as he shrugs his shirt off. ‘No one has been in this room since I cornered you.’ He’s watching me closely, and my mind reflects back to that day when I found myself trapped and silently willing him on. ‘And the bed is new.’
‘Really?’ I blurt, a little shocked.
He laughs. ‘Really.’
‘Why?’
‘Because I’m not having you in a bed that others have…’ His frown line surfaces again. ‘frequented.’ he finishes.
‘And no one has been in this room since me?’ I ask.
He kicks his trousers off and draws his boxers down his legs. ‘Only me. Get your underwear off. I want you naked.’
I reach down and push my knickers from my legs. ‘Did you sit in here quietly and think about me?’ I ask on a grin.
He strides over to a unit of drawers and pulls the top one open. ‘More than you know.’ he answers quietly, turning and holding up a bra.
My bra.
‘That’s my bra!’ I blurt. I have a sudden flurry of flashbacks from when he cornered me. I left my bra, and he stored it there all this time?
He chucks it on the top of the drawers and shrugs sheepishly, then paces over to the bed and slips in beside me. I immediately crawl onto his chest and settle myself all over him, my face nuzzling straight into his neck.
‘Comfy?’ he asks.
‘Hmmm.’ I hum, my hands wandering all over the place, needing to feel him and relish in the flesh on flesh contact.
He sat in here quietly and thought of me. He kept my bra. No one has been in here, except me, and he’s replaced the bed.
‘How do you feel?’ he asks, letting me smother him.
‘I’m fine.’ I sigh. I’m fine at the moment, but not for long, no doubt.
He matches my sigh. ‘She’s fine.’ I’m held tighter, his heartbeat thumping against my breastbone. ‘Go to sleep, my beautiful girl.’
And I do. My eyes slowly close and I’m gone.
Chapter 6
I open my eyes and stretch. It’s an over-the-top, noisy, satisfying, completely contented extension of my body all over the bed. Then I smile to myself, listening to him in the bathroom—the sound of the tap jetting out streams of hot water into the tub, him collecting all of the cosmetics he’ll need, and then the unmistakable sound of him swishing the water to instigate some bubbles. My self-professed bath man is keeping to his word. We’re going to have a long soak in the bath and undoubtedly some tub talk whilst we’re there. Do I want tub talk today?
Shuffling myself to the edge of the gigantic bed, I take my naked form over to the suite’s bathroom and lean myself up against the doorframe. He’s sitting on a chair in the window, elbows resting on his knees, looking out across The Manor’s grounds. He’s naked too, every finely tuned muscle protruding from his back and his dark blonde hair damp from the condensation filling the vast space. I could stand all day and watch him, but even from here and with his back to me, I can see the cogs of his mind racing around at a hundred miles per hour. He’s probably thinking about my denial, and he’s undoubtedly thinking about how he can keep me at home. It’s Monday tomorrow, therefore a work day.
My unreasonable, challenging, neurotic control freak.
My ex-playboy.
And now my husband.
I need to touch him.
I approach quietly, my eyes getting more and more delighted the closer I get, my skin starting to prickle with the usual sparks that simmer between our bodies. ‘I know when you’re near, beautiful girl.’ He doesn’t look around. ‘You’ll never get away with that.’
I move around in front of him and climb onto his lap, planting my cheek on his chest.
His arms engulf me and his face plummets into my hair. ‘Trying to sneak up on me?’
‘It never works.’
‘It never will. How are you feeling this morning?’
I smile into his chest. ‘Fine.’
‘Fine.’ He replies, pulling me in closer. ‘Don’t go to work tomorrow.’
I sag in his lap slightly, even though I knew what was coming. I agreed to marry him so soon if he accepted that there will be no honeymoon, and if he agreed to chill out on the overprotectiveness and unreasonableness. My instincts told me he’d fail on all counts. I pull myself up and face him. ‘I need to work.’
He shakes his head. ‘You don’t need to work at all. We need to be together.’
‘We are together.’
‘You know what I mean.’ he grumbles.
I’m going to get nowhere with this, so I remove myself from his lap and head for the bath.
‘What are you doing?’ he asks my back.
I don’t need to turn around for visual confirmation of the scowl I know covers his face. ‘Having a bath.’ I climb in and settle back, but almost instantly move forward to give him space.
He climbs in and settles behind me, pulling me back to rest on his chest and homing straight in on my ear, giving a little growl and a nibble. ‘I’ve told you before, don’t fight me off.’
‘Then stop making unreasonable demands.’ I retort harshly.
He bites down harder on my lobe. ‘And I’ve also told you that before. There is nothing unreasonable about wanting to keep you safe.’
‘You mean keep me to yourself.’ I close my eyes and let my head relax against him, my palms sliding onto his strong, wet thighs.
‘No,’ His fingers lace through mine. ‘To keep you safe.’
‘You use that as an excuse for your unreasonable behaviour.’
‘No. You make me crazy.’
‘You make yourself crazy. I’m going to work tomorrow and you are going to let me, and you’re not going to make a fuss of it. You promised.’
I feel his mouth at my ear again, and I use every modicum of strength to restrain my moan. ‘But you promised to obey me. I think marriage vows over-ride any promises that were made before.’ He pushes himself up against my bum. ‘Does someone need some sense fucked into them?’
I jerk, sending water swishing around us. I’d love some sense fucked into me, but I still won’t relent. ‘You also promised to stop fucking sense into me because it was agreed that all of the sense only makes sense to you.’ I’m beginning to wish we’d never made that agreement. Sense fucking equals hard fucking.
‘Love, honour and obey.’ he whispers, and my face naturally turns into that low, husky voice, my lips finding his. ‘That makes sense, doesn’t it?’
‘No,’ I breathe. ‘Hardly anything you demand makes sense.’
‘We make sense.’ He swamps me with his mouth. ‘Tell me we make sense.’