“I wish I could be around longer to see the incredible things my daughter will accomplish…but I’ll watch her from upstairs.” He placed his hand on my shoulder and gave me a gentle squeeze. “I know you’ll take care of my little girl. If you’ll defend her from your father, you’ll defend her from anyone. Goodnight.” He dropped his hand and left the room. A moment later, his steps were audible on the stairs.
Arwen came back to the dining room and cleared the glasses. “My father went to bed?”
“I think so.”
She still had an edge to her, obviously not quickly forgetting the conversation with my father. “Has he always been like that?”
“No.”
“Really?” She held the wine bottle by the neck, cocking an eyebrow like she didn’t believe that for a second. “He just woke up one morning and decided to be an asshole?”
“No,” I said calmly. “My mother died, so he decided to be an asshole.”
Her rage dimmed slightly, like a fading star on the other side of the galaxy. “My father went through a phase after my mother was gone…not quite as bad, though. He was more sad than angry.”
Yes, but her mother hadn’t been tortured. “I’m not his biggest fan either, so you aren’t alone.”
“He doesn’t treat you like that, does he?”
I wasn’t going to complain about my father issues to her. I didn’t even know her. “Your father said he’s looking forward to the wedding. I was thinking maybe afterward we could make him comfortable at the hospital.”
“As nice as that sounds, we can’t afford it. Our accounts are empty.”
“I’d pay for it, obviously.”
She gripped the neck of the bottle tighter, her pride wanting her to refuse the offer. But her concern for her father’s well-being was clearly more important. She even managed a kind response. “Thank you…” Her voice trembled as she said the words, like she was barely holding on to her composure. When she launched an attack against my father, she didn’t skip a beat. But now that she was alone, emotion overwhelmed her. Her bottom lip trembled, but just for a second.
I looked away, not wanting to deal with her tears. “It’s no problem.” I pushed my glass toward her and admired the way her ring reflected every single point of light that emitted from the chandelier. “Need anything else before Saturday?” I wanted to change the subject, to steer away from the heartbreak on her mind.
“No…” She grabbed the bottle and brought it to her lips.
I watched her tilt her head back and down the contents, her throat shifting as the liquid descended to her belly. Her neck was so slender, her waist so petite. It was hard to believe such an incredible voice could come from a woman so tiny.
She wiped her mouth with the back of her hand. “What’s going to happen on Saturday?”
“We’re getting married…or have you forgotten?”
She flashed me a look of menace, the evidence of her tears gone. “After the wedding. Are we going on a honeymoon? Because I need to stay with my father.”
I wasn’t whisking this woman off to an exotic location to fuck her brains out. I did that every night with an endless line of beautiful women. “No.”
“Are you expecting to consummate the marriage?”
The corner of my mouth rose in a smile. “If you want to fuck me, just tell me. Don’t beat around the bush—”
“Go fuck yourself.” She stormed off into the kitchen, bringing the glasses and bottle with her.
I couldn’t wipe off my smirk as I followed her into the other room. “The answer to your question is no. There will be somebody in my bed—but it won’t be you.” I leaned against the counter and watched her set the glasses at the bottom of the sink, drops of red wine still visible at the bottom of the bowls.
“Thank god.” She washed the dishes then dried them with a linen cloth. “Where will we live?”
“I live on the property where our family business is. It’s about twenty minutes outside of Florence.”
“Does it smell like cheese all the time?”
I crossed my arms over my chest. “Odd question—but no.”
When the glasses were dry, she placed them in the cabinet with the glass doors. “After meeting your father, I don’t find you quite as irritating…despite that sex comment.”
“Yeah…he always makes me look good.”
“I need to drive into Florence for practice and my shows. So I’ll need a car.”
“Done.”
She dried her hands on the towel then examined me, her eyes filled with endless thoughts. “How is this going to work? We just live our lives however we wish, but we live under the same roof?”
“You have a better idea?” I didn’t care what she did on her own time. I didn’t even care if I never saw her. All I needed to know was she was safe—to uphold my promise. We didn’t have to share a single meal together or even talk. But for public events, she would have to be the woman on my arm.