The Secret His Mistress Carried(34)
The wooden beach house was tucked into a corner and lit up with fairy lights that looked like roses. ‘Wow...that’s so pretty!’ Billie exclaimed, staring when she saw lights flickering beyond the floor-to-ceiling windows as well.
Gio carried her over the threshold and she lost one of her shoes and he said that was a good thing because she couldn’t walk in them and she was smiling as he set her down on a polished wood floor. There were flowers everywhere she looked and lots of burning candles casting glimmers of moving light and shadow across the opulent interior. Their driver settled the cases in the adjoining bedroom and departed.
Billie wandered barefoot into the bedroom, appreciating the luxurious but plain furnishings and the wide, comfortable bed.
‘Champagne?’ Gio prompted.
‘Maybe later. Right now, I want a shower more than anything,’ she confided, keen to be free of the tailored dress and jacket she had worn to look smart. ‘Could you unzip me?’
‘If I unzip you,’ Gio remarked as she shed her jacket and moved helpfully close, ‘you’ll never make it to the shower.’
The zip ran down. He spread the fabric back and pressed his mouth to the smooth slope of her shoulder. ‘Your skin is so wondrously soft,’ he told her huskily, skimming the short sleeves down her arms, giving the dress a helpful push downward as it threatened to settle at her waist, and lifting her out of the folds.
‘I’m not going to get my shower,’ Billie forecast as he turned her slowly round to face him.
‘Well, possibly not until later and you might have to share it.’ Gio grinned down at her, his eyes hot as the sun’s rays on her exposed the lush curves of her figure in a green satin and lace bra and panties set. ‘That’s if I ever let you out of bed...’
Billie resisted a sudden urge to stupidly ask him if he thought her bottom was too large. She tried to stay a stable weight but she had never fussed about the curvy shape she had been born with, regarding that as a futile exercise destined to lead only to disappointment. Irritated by her sudden self-consciousness in his presence, she said instead, ‘You’re wearing way too many clothes.’
Gio hauled her up into his arms and kissed her with passionate force before bringing her down on the bed. ‘A shower and food and civilised behaviour later...I promise,’ he swore.
Billie’s memory flew back to the many, many times in the past when Gio had barely stepped through the door of the apartment before grabbing her with the wild impatience and hunger she had always cherished in him, deeming that fervour proof that she was more important to him than he was ever likely to tell her. Of course, the fallout when he announced that he was marrying Calisto had been all the more painful to bear, she conceded ruefully. He had forced her to see the danger of wishful thinking, the foolishness of the assumptions that had made her feel secure. But as soon as she found herself thinking that way, Billie kicked out those negative thoughts and, reminding herself that this was their wedding night, she lay back on the bed where he had placed her.
Gio was her husband now and he was hers in so many ways that he had never been before, she conceded, trying to banish her worries. Together, she and Gio and Theo would be a family. They would also be part of a much bigger family, which she was praying would eventually accept her, even if it was only for Theo’s sake.
‘Who organised all this?’ Billie asked, shifting a hand to indicate the flowers and the candles and the opulent comfort of the room’s appointments. ‘Is the beach house in regular use?’
‘It hadn’t been used in quite some time,’ Gio admitted as he shed his shirt in a careless heap. ‘Leandros’ sister, Eva, is an interior designer and she agreed to do a rush job for me as a favour. She wasn’t sure she would make the deadline until the last minute and only finished this afternoon. The household staff saw to the rest.’
‘I love the candles and the flowers,’ Billie admitted.
‘I knew you would...you’ve always been such a romantic,’ Gio teased.
‘But you organised it so you must be a romantic too,’ she pointed out, absolutely blown away by the gradually dawning realisation that Gio had had the beach house set up for their wedding night solely in an attempt to please her.
‘I’ll never be romantic,’ he fielded wryly. ‘But I am bright enough to work out what’s required and deliver it, glyka mou.’
With the greatest difficulty, Billie dragged her attention from his washboard abs and the way his naturally golden skin sleekly delineated his ripcord musculature. He was gorgeous and yet he was with her and not with the equally gorgeous Calisto. For a split second she let that mystery unnerve her and then she squashed the thought flat, telling herself off for even thinking it. He was married to her now, with her, and Calisto was in the past. Gloriously unaware of her constant attacks of insecurity, Gio stepped out of his trousers and skimmed off his boxers in one fell swoop of impatience.
Her mouth ran dry, her heartbeat quickening. It had been so long since she had had the luxury of watching Gio strip. That day she had gone for lunch with him at his hotel and ended up in bed with him, he hadn’t even got undressed. Her face burned at the recollection.
‘What are you thinking about?’ Gio breathed, stalking across the bedroom to join her on the bed.
And she told him and, surprisingly, he laughed. ‘I wasn’t exactly the cool seducer, was I? I was as hot for you as a teenage boy having sex for the first time but I did at least use a condom.’