The Don and His Russian Bride

XXI

My face is inches away from the mirror, focusing in on my right eye. I can only assume my expression is a picture of concentration. I press the tip of the eyeliner against my lid and drag it to form a gentle curve. Just as I begin to move it up to draw a perfect wing, I'm startled by a sudden knock on the door. The eyeliner slips from its intended course, leaving a black line across my temple.

"Are you almost done in there?" Luc asked through the door. His tone does little to mask his impatience.

I rolled my eyes before reaching for the make up wipes. I raised my voice to be heard through the door. "I won't be done any time soon if you keep interrupting me!"

"Alright. I'll be waiting for you in the dining room."

After attending boarding school for many years, I had grown somewhat accustomed to sharing a space with another person. Luciano, on the other hand, was not used to making considerations for someone other than himself. For this reason, he was by far the most difficult roommate I have ever had. Within our room, he continued to be demanding and unwilling to compromise most of the time. Regardless of how many times I explained that the room was now as much of mine as it was his, he still expected me to adjust to his living arrangements.

Earlier in the evening, Luc had told me to wear something nice for dinner. My initial response was to refuse. After a moment to think over my reaction, he rephrased his demand as a question. He then further explained that he wanted to celebrate our two month anniversary.

The first two months of our marriage crept forward with each second feeling like an eternity, and yet, it didn't seem possible how it now seemed as though the months had passed in no time at all. While two months didn't sound like much to celebrate, we had been through so much that it was a noteworthy benchmark and with the rocky start of our marriage, it was a miracle we had made it this far.

No longer against my husband's wishes for dinner, I donned a red satin dress with a cowl neckline. It cinched my waist and fell to about mid calf. A slit in the dress started at the top of my right thigh, revealing a slim, tanned leg.

I wanted to go to dinner looking just as delectable as the meal Carlotta would be serving us. Just because we reached a benchmark of our relationship didn't mean we would get intimate, but part of me hoped for him to imagine what it would be like if we did. Our moment in the pool replayed in my head over and over again. He wanted me to know the pleasure could be mine as much as it could be his, but I wouldn't give him my body until he proved our marriage could be based on something beyond our physical desires.

I made my way down the stairs, taking delicate steps in my stiletto heels and ready to conquer the male gaze. After the beginning of our marriage, I learned how I needed to stand my ground in order to receive Luciano's respect. I've shown him that I won't be intimidated by his title or his power, and now I was having dinner with him as equals.

I entered the dining room, finding Luciano sitting at the head of the dining room table. I took the seat opposite to him, across the length of the table. I no longer saw the distance between us as a savior, rather a way for me to meet his gaze.

"You look stunning, as always," Luciano spoke first. His hair was gelled to stay in place, but what he managed in under ten minutes, appeared as though it had taken four times as long to style. Luciano was the kind of man that required little effort to perfect his appearance. His attire was just as elegant and sophisticated as mine. He wore a black tux and a bowtie rested snug at the base of his neck.

My mind wandered to his masculine fingers untying the bowtie, releasing the fabric as though loosening restraints. My thoughts didn't stop there as they traveled to my hands revealing his muscular chest with the unfastening of each individual button on his shirt. I swallowed as I cleared my head of the mental image. Trying to maintain my composure, I smiled at him over the candles lit at the center of the table.