“See something you like?” he asked, walking over to his dresser and digging until he produced a soft black T-shirt.
“A lot of something I like,” she said softly.
He threw the shirt to her and she caught it. “So you don’t have to walk back down the hall in an evening gown,” he said.
“Is anyone up?”
“Possibly. But trust me, you in the hall in something you might have slept in is less of a scandal than you roaming around in the previous night’s attire.”
“Yeah, that’s true.” She didn’t make a move to put it on, she just sat there, holding the soft cotton top over her breasts. He wished she wouldn’t cover them up.
He wasn’t used to this. This strange kind of tense emotion hanging in the air after sex. Sex was supposed to be a release but he felt … fuller somehow. Satisfied yet … yet in desperate need of more. As though he’d tapped into a hunger he didn’t know he possessed, and now that he’d uncovered it, he was almost certain he would never be able to fill it.
He took a deep breath and tried to ease the tight sensation in his chest.
“Are you all right?” he asked, another thing he’d never been compelled to ask after being with a woman. It was all usually clean and focused. It was about the physical, for him and his partner, nothing more.
But Carlotta was going to be his wife. And there was nothing clean and simple about permanent. Or about what she’d told him. About the issues that she had.
Just thinking about that man, Gabriel, was enough to choke him. The bastard had taken something he had no right to. He had stolen Carlotta’s love of herself.
“Yeah,” she said, not quite meeting his gaze. “I’m good.”
“You’re beautiful,” he said. Always when he said it to her, something he’d said easily to so many other women, it felt different. It felt real and essential. It felt like something he had to tell her. Something he had to make her understand.
“Thank you.” She tugged the shirt on, and he watched, savoring every visible inch of her until she was covered.
“You don’t really seem like you believe me.”
“I’m not sure that it matters.”
“Why not?”
“We’re sort of stuck with each other, right?”
He frowned. “It matters because it’s true. And because I don’t feel stuck.” That was true. He wasn’t sure when that feeling had changed, and why it had changed after his promise to be faithful. If anything, the specter of a lifetime of sleeping with the same woman should be looming over him and taunting him with the hellish reality that such prolonged fidelity would bring.
But it wasn’t. And he didn’t feel any kind of dawning horror creeping over him. Right now, the only thing the thought of a lifetime of Carlotta in his bed brought was an intense, hard kick of lust.
“You don’t?”
“I didn’t promise to be faithful to you just to get you into bed. I promised it because I knew it was one I could keep, one I don’t mind keeping.”
“Hmm,” she said, standing from the bed. “It’s just a strange way of putting it.”
“What do you want me to say? I’m trying to tell you, you’re beautiful.”
“I know, I just … Rodriguez I don’t know what I’m doing. I … Thank you. Thank you for not wanting to cheat on me, and for thinking I’m beautiful.”
“That makes it not sound very spectacular.”
“It actually is. I wish you understood how much. Because I believe you.”
His heart squeezed tight. “I think I understand.”
She smiled. “Good. I’m going to go now and make sure Luca’s all right.”
Carlotta edged out of the bedroom and closed the door gently behind her, trying to ignore the dizzy feeling that was making her feel imbalanced and wobbly. She leaned against the wall and fought the urge to collapse. To cry. To scream, maybe.
She felt scared and excited. Hopeful in a way.
She felt like she had a piece of herself back. Or like she’d found herself for the first time. Like she’d punched a hole in the outer shell she’d built around herself from the time she was a child. Like she was ready to emerge from it fully, completely.
Now all she had to do was remember that the sex might feel good. Great. Amazing. But that didn’t mean Rodriguez was going to confess his undying love for her. Just that right now it was good. And she believed him when he said he’d be faithful. To a point.
The one thing she believed, wholly and absolutely, was that he couldn’t give love. It was that blank void she kept glimpsing, the bottomless pit of emptiness she could see in his eyes.
And when she thought of him, she needed to remember that, and not simply the way he’d looked at her when she’d told him her secret. With shock, and anger, not at her but directed at Gabriel, and with nothing but compassion and caring for her.
Even Natalia, her wilder half, had looked at her in openmouthed shock when she’d started to tell her about Gabriel. About his double life. It was why she’d only started talking about him, and never finished the whole story.
Not until last night.
She was very glad she’d waited now. Because even if she and Rodriguez would never love each other, they understood each other.
And that was something rare. Nonexistent in her life. Sophia was the closest thing she had to a confidante anymore and, even then, she hadn’t ever felt like she could really tell her everything.
But Rodriquez had stripped her bare. And she’d liked it.
A smile curved her lips even as a tear slid down her cheek. Now she just had to remember about the falling in love part and everything might go just fine.
She pushed off from the wall and headed to Luca’s room, ignoring the small sliver of pain that lodged itself in her heart.
“Good morning.”
Rodriguez walked into the dining room and was treated to a wide smile from a very perky Luca, who was dipping a churro in his hot chocolate, and a very shy smile from Carlotta, her cheeks glowing pink as she lifted her coffee cup to her lips.
“Morning,” she said softly.
He wanted to kiss her, but he wasn’t sure if he should. He’d never really worried about that. Not for a long time. He’d started flaunting his behavior the moment he’d outgrown his father. Just about daring the old man to try something with him when they were matched for strength.
But right now, it mattered. Because Carlotta was different from other women. Because he didn’t want to do something wrong in front of Luca.
What she’d said about him seeing pictures … it weighed on him. His father hadn’t been an example for him. His father had been the iron fist, in charge of his kingdom, but even more, ruler of his own household.
Rodriguez had started life desperate to stay in line. He had ended up doing just the opposite. Creating scandal for the sake of it.
But now Luca would see that. As would the child he and Carlotta would eventually have. The heir. It was all a lot heavier than the thoughts he was used to dwelling on.
And it kept him from kissing her.
“Sleep well?” he asked, unable to keep the intimate note from his tone.
“Uh, yeah,” she said, looking sideways at Luca.
“I had a bad dream,”