The Proposal - Kitty Thomas Page 0,68
at her feet because she makes everything possible. She's the first one we've all seen a real future with, the key to all our locks.
I don't think any of us believed we could ever have this in a real and permanent relationship. It was always just supposed to be fucking around. And it always was. Before her.
I've had my hand on the small of Livia's back since we got onto the property, and I keep it there the entire walk through the resort until we're safely inside our home away from home. The staff and members need to see her; they need to see this. They need to know she's with me and under my protection. I will remove any member who tries to violate this boundary and revoke all their future privileges, as well as those of their families, friends, and even descendants because the blacklist here can stretch through generations. There are people who will never gain entrance because their grandfather fucked up and pissed off the wrong person fifty years ago.
We're finally alone, the four of us. Our bags have been brought in and all resort employees have taken their leave. Livia looks shaken by what she saw in the lobby and on the grounds. People half dressed. People naked. People in leather. People in collars being led crawling through the resort like it was nothing.
It is nothing.
I call and order room service to the house, then I do a walk-through to make sure everything is as I requested. When I'm finished, I go into the master bathroom and run a bath for Livia.
I turn a few minutes later to find her standing in the bathroom with me, looking almost as timid as she did last night coming into our suite. “Griffin sent me up here,” she says. She can't meet my eyes, instead looking to the large jacuzzi tub as it fills.
I pop the cork on a bottle of champagne and pour her some in the single flute that was left on the counter. She gasps as I pour the rest of the champagne into the tub with the water and sprinkle in the still fresh fragrant cream-colored rose petals the staff left before we arrived. I light the candles around the tub and hand the champagne to her.
“Drink this. I need you relaxed. The champagne bath will help, too.” If possible, this pronouncement makes her more nervous.
She takes the flute and chugs it back like it's beer. Well, that's one way to do it.
“Dayne? What's going to happen to me here?”
It's moments like this when I wonder if I'm wrong about her. Can she handle us? She sends such mixed signals. I choose not to answer because I'm not sure there's an answer that will put her at ease. She was already warned last night that things would escalate, but I know she didn't expect this. She expected a normal honeymoon—at least on paper. And she hasn't even seen the half of it yet.
I take the empty flute from her and place it on the counter behind me. “Turn around.”
She does, and I carefully unzip her sundress and push it to the floor. Oh I like this. No bra and virginal white panties. I bet Soren liked it when he had her on the plane, too. I push the panties down over her hips, and help her step out of them when they hit the floor to join the dress.
Then I guide her into the tub. I lean over and press a kiss against her forehead when she's settled. “Just relax. I'll come get you when dinner arrives.”
The guys are stretched out on sofas in the main room when I get downstairs. “New plan,” I say. Most of the planning has shifted to me now that we're at my resort, but Soren will be happy to take the reigns again when we return home, on his turf—the estate. But this is my castle. My rules.
“Oh?” Soren says. “I thought we were taking her to the dungeon to show her off and play.”
I shake my head. I remain convinced that this is inside Livia, but if we push her too far too fast, we could lose her. We could break her, and then we're left with the mess we made.
“It's too soon. She needs a night to relax and acclimate. She needs a night that feels normal and safe.”
“Bullshit,” Soren says. He practically spits the word.
“Hey,” I say, my tone hardening. “Settle your ass down. I