The Don and His Russian Bride

IV

As soon as the door settled shut, the tension in my shoulders was released. A large exhale caused my chest to lower. With my back against the door, my eyes fell shut.

This was merely a bad dream. If I opened my eyes, I would be back in my old bedroom. The one in Russia, far away from this damned island. My eyelids pulled back to reveal the guest bedroom. My imagining to be somewhere else had been in vain.

My new bedroom was a steep contrast to Luciano's. Where his room was dark, mine was light. His bedroom relied on natural light from the large windows; my room used artificial light from several dainty lamps. Only a small window allowed me to look out at the night sky. The other noticeable difference between the two was that my room was less than half the size of his. Regardless, the room would be perfect for me.

As beautiful as my shoes were, they were the first thing I took off. I wiggled my toes into the white carpet. Wearing heels all day had my feet aching, but the soft padding of the carpet soothed them.

Crossing the room, I opened the door to the connected bathroom. My foot cooled the second they stepped onto the dark grey tiled floor. The shower invited me in, though I could wait until morning to wash myself. I was more than ready to collapse into my bed and sleep for hours on end. My attention moved to the large mirror above the sink. My reflection did, in fact, look exhausted.

I opened every cabinet and drawer, only to find them mostly empty. Grabbing a wash rag and a bar of soap, I began to wipe off my makeup. My makeup artist had given me a natural look for the wedding, though it was far from natural despite how it looked. It took several minutes to wash my face clean of foundation, mascara, and everything else she used.

If it were an option for me to leave my hair up, I would have. The hairdresser had curled my hair and pinned it into such an intricate updo that I did not want to take it out. However, I could not sleep with pins stabbing my scalp all night. I removed the pins one by one, creating a large pile of them while my hair fell down in snarled tendrils.

When I turned to see the back of my dress, my heart began to race. There was no way I would be able to take the dress off by myself. It was held together by buttons from the middle of my back down to the underside of my bum. Even if I tried, I could barely reach most of them.

And if, by some miracle, I was able to get out of the dress, what would I wear afterwards? I opened the sliding door of the closet only to find it bare. It didn't surprise me there weren't any clothes for me. Luciano didn't plan for me to stay in here.

There was only one person I knew who would be able to help, and he was just across the hall. My hand hesitated over the knob of my bedroom door. With my only other choice being to sleep in my dress, I opened my door and crossed the short distance to Luciano's room. Before I could even knock, the door opened to reveal a very shirtless and wet Luciano.

"Why aren't you wearing a shirt?" I blurted out. I wanted to slap myself across the face for saying the first thing that crossed my mind. This was his house. If he wanted to walk around in nothing but his boxer briefs, he could. I fought to keep my eyes above his waist. They wandered from the droplets on his chest to his midnight hair, which became impossibly darker after his shower.

"Why are you still wearing your dress?"

I sighed, defeated. This had to be the most embarrassing experience of my life. "I can't get it off– too many buttons."

"Turn around," he ordered.

With nothing more to lose, I turned around. My focus turned to keeping my breathing steady as he stepped closer and began unfastening the buttons. Wondering if anyone would be around to see him undressing me, my eyes darted back and forth down each side of the hallway.

As if he read my mind, Luciano said, "Don't worry. We're the only ones in the house tonight. Any soldiers here are outside."

He meant to reassure me, but I wasn't so sure that being alone with him was much better.

As the buttons of my gown came undone at Luciano's hands, my back prickled from the exposure of the cool air. Painstakingly slow, Luciano reached the last few buttons. He knew I found our close proximity to be torturous and he relished in the fact.

Once he finished, Luciano brushed the back of his knuckles across my bare skin. I tensed at the initial contact, but then loosened my shoulders to seem unaffected by his touch. Goosebumps rose across my arms beneath the intricate lace sleeves of my dress.

He moved his hand upward until he could brush my hair from the back of my neck. His lips came next to my ear and he whispered, "Done."

I swallowed the lump in my throat as Luciano stepped away from me. As much as I wanted to see him go, I stopped him.

"Wait." At my command, he turned to me unfazed. I took another deep breath before voicing my request. "Do you have something I could wear tonight? There aren't any other clothes in my room."

"Of course."

Not a second later, I was left alone in the hallway, holding my dress flush against my chest. I rocked back and forth on my feet until Luciano came back from his room with a tshirt and a pair of boxer shorts.

"These will have to do for tonight. I'll have something else ready for you in the morning and I'll make arrangements for some men to take you shopping."

"It's not necessary to buy me a whole new wardrobe. I can stop at my father's house and just grab my clothes," I suggested.

And I can get away from you, I added in my head. Earlier, I had thought my father was the last person I wanted to see. Despite my newfound hatred for him, I would rather be at his stupid Sicilian house than in Luciano's mansion.

"You don't think I have the means to purchase an entire wardrobe for you?"

"No. That's not what I meant." My hands flew up as if to push back his accusation. A brush of air on my back reminded me I needed to ward off his anger so I could go back to my room and change.

"Then I'll prepare a driver to take you to the island shops tomorrow. Have a good night." With his final command, he returned to his path down the stairs.

Since he dismissed the rest of the conversation, I hurried back to the guest bedroom. There, I donned the clothes Luciano gave me and crawled into bed. As soon as I relaxed, my muscles began screaming their soreness. My wedding day had taken a toll on them and me.

My eyes fell closed, welcoming sleep. I tried not to wonder what my life would be like with my new husband. I didn't know him, but I knew he wasn't the kind of man I wanted to spend the rest of my life with. Before drifting off, I created myself a goal to take our marriage one day at a time, starting with my shopping spree the next day.