“Your dress is beautiful.” Cosima takes Warren’s empty chair next to me. He’s greeting and talking to guests. It stung that he hadn’t asked me to join him. Does he not want to introduce me to them? Is he embarrassed?
“Thanks.” I give her a smile. “Yours is beautiful too.” Cosima has on a deep purple dress that hugs her curves. With her blonde hair, every color works on her.
“This old thing.” She playfully bats her lashes as she snags Warren’s glass of champagne that has been left untouched since it was poured. I lost count of how many I’ve had at this point. “Z told me it was ugly.”
“Really?” Z, out of all the Marino males, tends to be fairly nice. He doesn’t have that grumpy scowl that I’m pretty sure is inherited. I glance down at him and see that he is, in fact, scowling at Cosima. “He’s protective?”
“He’s something all right.” She rolls her eyes, taking a sip of the champagne. I do the same, sinking back into my chair. “So you two finally tied the knot.”
“Finally?” What is she talking about? This was the world’s quickest engagement. Cosima shrugs.
‘The way he watches you.’ A whimsical expression falls across her face. This isn’t a fairy tale. She knows that better than me. My father has always been a part of this world, but we lived on the outside edge of it. It’s only these past few years I’ve gotten a real understanding of the power the Marino family has.
‘You think he watches me?’ I search War out in the room. When my eyes land on him, he is staring right at me. His father is next to him with two other men in suits, all talking, but he doesn’t give them his eyes. He’s fully focused on me.
‘It’s not just the watching. It’s how he watches you.’
‘It’s possessive,’ I add.
‘Really possessive. It’s interesting. I mean, sure, my brother can be territorial, but this is different.’
There’s that word again. Different. If only I knew exactly what that means when it comes to War and me.
A server comes by, filling our glasses again. Cosima doesn’t get a chance to take another drink because Z is there taking the glass from her.
“Hey!” she huffs, jumping to her feet. Cosima teeters in her heels. She has to be tipsy because I’ve seen her rock heels by the freaking pool before like it was nothing.
“You’ve had enough.”
“I can drink if I want.”
“You’re not in Europe, so no, you can’t,” he fires back at her. Z is pissed. What has him all riled up? It can’t really be Cosima drinking, can it?
“Oh, because all of a sudden we are a law-abiding family?” Cosima throws her head back and laughs. It only pisses Z off more.
“You’re done for the night.” He grabs her arm.
“You’re not the boss of me!” Cosima fires back at him. My eyes bounce between the two of them. Cosima can be feisty at times, but this is different.
“You have no idea.” He tugs her along. She appears to reluctantly go with him, but when she peeks over her shoulder at me, she gives me a wicked look, letting me know she was poking at Z on purpose. At least that was entertaining. I pick up my glass and finish it off.
When I search the room again for Warren, I see he is now talking to an older lady and two girls a bit older than me.
“I’ll just sit here all alone,” I mutter to myself. Or I won’t. Who says I have to stay here? I can do things. What things? I’m not sure, but there has to be something. When I glance back across the room and Warren is still in conversation, his eyes not on me, I know this is my chance.
It’s childish, I know, but I also know he’ll be all pissy when he can’t find me. He’ll stalk me down. Why did last night piss me off, but right now it sounds rather fun?
“Whoa,” I whisper to myself when I stand. I am a tad unsteady on my feet, but I don’t have heels on. My dress hides that I’m wearing a pair of flats.
“Mrs. Marino, is there something you need?” a man dressed in an all-black suit asks.
“Me?” I point to myself.
“Yes, ma’am.”
“Right.” I snap my fingers. “That is me.” The man nods. “I have gotta pee,” I lie. He’s security. I know I have seen him around here before. Was he stationed next to me? At this point I wouldn’t put it past Warren.
“You have to head to the main house for the restroom.”
“Thanks.” I stick to the outside of the tented area, trying to blend in. It’s not helpful when everyone says hi to me while I pass. I smirk when I make it out of the tent without being caught.
“Mrs. Marino. This way.” I spin around to see the same man.
“You followed me.”
“I did.”
“And you’re not going to stop, are you?”
“I have my orders.”
“If I’m ‘Mrs. Marino’”—I make air quotes with my fingers when I say my name—“then can I do some ordering around here?”
“They won’t override War’s.”
“So if I wanted to order Chinese food and he wanted to order Mexican, he always wins?” I throw my hands up in the air.
“Why would you order takeout? Marcello is one of the best chefs.”
“Touché.” He has a point. I quickly come up with a new plan as I make my way toward the main house. The man even follows me into the house, lingering outside of the bathroom. I lock the door before I go straight for the window.
It takes me a second to get the window up, but I manage to pull it off. Sadly, I’m as good at sneaking out of this window as I was the other night. So needless to say, I take a tumble, rolling and landing flat on my back. Don’t judge me. I mean, I’m in a damn wedding dress; I was bound to fall. I decide to just lie here, even though I know my dress is probably getting dirty. I stare up at the night sky. You can always see all the stars out here.
“You’re going to be a handful.”
“Holy craptickle!” I scream, sitting up. Warren looms over me. “Do you have me LoJacked?”
“Thinking about it.” Warren leans down, plucking me off the ground like I weigh nothing.
“Why are you always showing off your muscles?”
“What?” He barks a laugh.
“Nothing.” I wave him off. “Put me on my feet.”
“It might be safer if I don’t.”
“Fine, at least carry me bride-style.”
“Bride-style?” He lifts a brow at me, making me smile.
“You’re handsome when you’re not mad.” I cup his cheek with my hand.
“Is that so?”
I let out a loud sigh. “It doesn’t matter, though. You’re always handsome.” I roll my eyes. A full-on smile spreads across Warren’s face. Okay, that’s the hottest expression I’ve ever seen. “Bride-style me. You know, like you’re carrying me over the threshold.”
“Got it.” He shifts me in his arms so that I’m cradled against him. I lean in, placing a kiss on his cheek.
“You shouldn’t sneak out without telling me.” Here we go again.
“Well, you shouldn’t leave me alllll alone to hang out with other women,” I huff, running my fingers along the buttons of his shirt.
“I had to go rub elbows.”
“Well, aren’t you supposed to be rubbing me?” Warren’s hold on me tightens.
“I was saving you from the agony of it. It had to be done.” He lets out a sigh, and I know it’s the last thing he wanted to do.
“It’s a part of this whole charade.”
“You’re not a charade. That was why I didn’t drag you with me.”
“As opposed to carrying me?”
“As opposed to carrying you,” he agrees. “I didn’t want to leave you alone. I would have rather spent my time with you.”
“Really?” I perk up. “I thought you were avoiding me.”
“I avoid you because I maul you like an animal.”
“That was one time!” I hold up my finger. “And I liked it.” I wiggle my brows at him. “Wait, where are we going?” I hadn’t realized we were moving.
‘To our living quarters.’
‘Whoa, I think you’re getting ahead of yourself here,’ I tease. I’m pretty sure everyone knows what we’ll be doing tonight. The idea of sex with Warren doesn’t scare me. No, I’ve had many fantasies about him over the years. The only man I have ever had them about.
‘It is where you’ll be staying from this point on.’
‘I was teasing.’
‘I’m not.’
‘Hey.’ I poke his cheek. ‘Go back to not being so serious.’
‘For you, I’ll try.’
I’ll take it… and him too.
