Monster A Dark Arranged Marriage Romance - Vanessa Waltz Page 0,59
“I go by K.”
“Where are you bringing me?”
“A place where girls like you are sold.” K lowered his phone and cycled through photos. “Perfect.”
“Sold? What the fuck—ow!” A sting pierced my arm. I met his gaze, pleading. “No. I don’t want it!”
He sank the plunger.
K blurred into flesh-toned colors as his arms looped under me and dropped me into something small, with sides. He shoved my head between my knees. The light zippered shut. My weight shifted as we swung upright, and then we rolled forward.
Was I in a suitcase?
Twenty
Evie
I’m grateful for sweet dreams.
Where am I?
Soft keys chimed from a piano. A harmonica played somewhere, accompanied by a ukulele. My eyes flared open to a vast ballroom packed with glamorous guests. Creamy linen and florals decorated the space. My gaze followed the trail of petals to my table, where I sat in front of elegant china, a glass of wine, and a flute of champagne. White lace wrapped my lap.
I wore a wedding dress.
What the hell?
A man stroked my palm under the tablecloth. Tony was beside me, clean-shaven and gorgeous in his tux, wearing a darkly seductive grin. He brought my hand to his lips and kissed, the heat flaring across my knuckles.
“Nice of you to drop in, Mrs. Costa.”
I don’t get it.
I stared at him, bewildered. “But we’re married already.”
“Well, obviously.” He rolled his thumb over my ring, a black opal sitting on a platinum band.
“Oh my God. I fucking love this ring.”
“I’m glad, hon.” He leaned over and kissed me behind my ear. “I can’t tell you how intimidating it was to pick an engagement ring for a jewelry designer.”
“It’s beautiful but…I thought it looked different. And we did this months ago.” I gaped at the fresco on the ceiling, mouth dropping open. “Okay, this isn’t right. Our wedding was nothing like this.”
Tony grabbed my drink. “I think you’ve had enough of this.”
He drank, making an appreciative sound. I couldn’t get over his friendly vibe and the megawatt smile. He was older, but he sparkled with life and energy. Then Tony’s arm slid across my lap. He hovered close until I counted every lash hiding his slanted gaze.
“You seem happy.”
“I am. I feel like I hit the jackpot with you. Can’t wait until our honeymoon,” he whispered in the shell of my ear. “I’ve booked five-star hotels all over Italy. The Mediterranean. Amalfi Coast. Rome. Florence.”
“Shit, really? I’ve never been out of the States.”
“You’ll love it, Evie,” he promised, his eyes gleaming. “Everything’s better—the coffee, the prosciutto, the wine—”
“Pizza?”
“That, too.”
My pulse raced. “Can we sightsee?”
“We can do anything. As long as you’re in my bed for most of it.”
My heart thudded once, then settled into its natural rhythm.
“I hope I’m not coming on too strong, Evie. It’s just that I feel so lucky to have you, and I’ve been waiting for the right girl for years. I’m excited. I can’t wait to start a family with you. I hope you don’t mind me saying that.”
I almost fanned my cheeks. “I-I don’t know what to say.”
“We can change the subject.”
“No, it’s okay. I think it’s sweet. It makes me feel special.”
“You are.” His raking gaze slid down my neckline. “Everything inside me aches for you. I’ve fantasized about you becoming my wife and the night I get to fuck you in this dress when you’re legally mine. I’ve dreamed about knocking you up, what it’ll be like when your body swells with my baby. I can’t stop thinking about it.”
I’d heard Italian men were forward, but damn. This guy gave the bikers at home a run for their money. Heat stole across my face as he grasped my chin.
“Do you want kids with me, Evie?”
“I-I mean we just met, but yes. I’d like that, someday.”
“Of course. I don’t want to rush you.” He kissed my cheek and smiled. “Tell me something about you.”
I played with a strand on my collar. “My birthday is March fifteenth. I work in jewelry design. It’s my passion. What about you?”
“I was born on Valentine’s Day, which is the worst day to have a birthday for a man. My girlfriends always made it about them.” He pulled an ankle over his knee. “What else? I graduated from Bourton’s with a major in Psychology. I’m on the board of several nonprofit charities. I’m a decent piano player and an amazing dancer.”
“Thank God one of us is.”
“You don’t know how to foxtrot?”
“No. Dancing wasn’t exactly a priority, growing up.”