Vale, your room is ready and your luggage has already been taken inside and unpacked. The items you requested are waiting for you. Is there anything else that I can do for you this evening?”
I blink, shocked at the service. He didn’t even look at his computer and he knew exactly who Massimo was by name. I wonder if all hotels are like this, if they are, I hope that these employees get paid plenty for their great service.
“No, my bride and I are ready to retire for the evening,” Massimo says, his voice sounding as bored as can be.
The man nods then reaches across the desk and hands a small piece of folded paper to Massimo.
“You’ll be staying in the Vale Garden Residence. Please call down to me if you desire or require anything this evening.”
Massimo doesn’t say anything, he takes the folded paper, then turns on his heels and with my hand in his, begins to walk. Turning my head, I smile at the man.
“Thank you,” I call as I lift my hand and wave.
His eyes widen and he dips his chin, but his lips twitch out of the corner of my eye. Massimo turns the corner, so I face forward and hurry behind him, attempting to keep up so that I’m not dragged.
We hurry into the elevator car and I watch as Massimo slips what looks like a credit card into a slot. Then he touches the very top number on the keypad. I don’t ask him what he’s doing. I don’t want to look like the naïve girl that I clearly am.
Silently, we stand next to one another as the elevator climbs to the top. Massimo doesn’t step out immediately, instead, he bends down and scoops me up in his arms. His feet carry us as I slip my arms around his neck.
He reaches a door and without using the plastic card, he just turns a handle and opens it. He carries me over the threshold and something inside of me warms at the thought of this man, this virtual stranger, caring enough that he wants to give me a sweet wedding night tradition.
“Thank you, Massimo,” I whisper.
He doesn’t respond to me right away, he doesn’t even put me down immediately. Instead, he turns to the left and starts to climb stairs. Stairs. I didn’t even know hotel rooms had stairs. When we’re up the two-floor staircase, only then does he slowly let me down to my feet.
Turning me around, I gasp as I see the city ahead of me. There are millions of little twinkling lights coming from the buildings, and then there’s water, and lights across the East River as I look toward New York.
“It’s beautiful,” I whisper.
Massimo hums behind me. His lips touch the side of my neck as his fingers grip my waist on each side. I can feel his hard body against me, his length pressing into my lower back. He doesn’t make a move, doesn’t even shift his hands as he stands behind me.
“I don’t have another woman, Pippa. Only you. I cannot promise you that we will have a perfect life. I cannot promise you anything, except two things. One, your sister will always have a home wherever we are. Two, I will try to do my best by you.”
Turning around in his arms, I tilt my head back and lift my hands, cupping each side of his neck.
“Why?” I ask. “Why will you try your best?”
His lips twitch, his eyes, they’re dark, but they twinkle with the city lights behind us. “Because, dolcezza. I have never had a gift quite like you before. I have never had something that I’ve dreamt about, but thought was completely out of my reach. I have that now. I have you, and I want your smiles. I want them aimed right at me.”
“My smiles?” I ask.
He grins, though it doesn’t reach his eyes, and I vow to myself that one day it will. I’ll make his smile reach those dark eyes. I’ll make him belly laugh the way that Carlo did. I’ll give him beautiful laugh crinkles next to his eyes and gorgeous lines around his mouth.
I will do that for him, not because he’s some perfectly good man, but because I think that he needs it and maybe if I do that for him, he’ll be the man that I need him to be for me. It’s selfish, though aren’t we all, by human nature, selfish?
If I make him happy, if