Twisted Emotions (The Camorra Chronicles 2) - Page 27

I reached into my purse, which dangled over my forearm, and freed a pill from the packet. My throat was tight, and I wasn’t sure if I’d manage to swallow it without water, but walking into the bathroom seemed impossible in my current state. I wasn’t sure I would make it without breaking down.

With shaking fingers, I brought the white pill to my lips. A hand curled around my wrist, stopping me. My eyes flew up to stare into Nino’s narrowed eyes. I hadn’t even heard him approach.

“What is that?” he asked forcefully.

I didn’t say anything, too terrified for words. With his free hand, he reached into my purse and pulled out the packet. His eyes scanned the description. He threw it away before his gray eyes met mine, and he held out his hand. “Give me that pill.”

“Please,” I whispered.

Not a flicker of emotion on his beautiful, cold face. “Kiara, give me that pill.”

I dropped it into his palm, and he threw it away as well. I could have cried. How was I supposed to rein in my terror, keep the memories at bay without something to calm myself?

His thumb brushed my wrist, and he murmured, “I won’t have you drugged.” He released me. I stepped back and turned around to face the bed, sucking in a deep breath. He was watching me.

I reached behind me for the buttons on the back of my dress. I would be the one to open them. That would give me a sense of control, unlike last time when my clothes had been ripped from me against my will, my body too weak to fight against it.

I swallowed the bile. My fingers shook too much to close around the tiny buttons.

“Let me,” came the cool drawl from my husband who was close behind.

No! I wanted to scream, but I forced the sound down. “I want to do it myself,” I managed in an almost calm voice.

He didn’t say anything, and I didn’t dare look at his face. I fumbled with the buttons, and one after the other gave way. It took an excruciatingly long time. He waited silently. His calm breathing and my ragged breaths filled the room.

Then I remembered that the groom was supposed to cut the bride out of her gown with his knife. Nino must have forgotten—after all, that wasn’t his tradition either. I didn’t have the courage to remind him or to button my dress again so he could cut me out. I’d lose it completely.

I pulled my dress down and it pooled at my feet. Now only my strapless bra and panties remained. I discarded my bra but didn’t have the courage to remove my panties yet.

Nino’s cold gray eyes scanned the length of me. “Your hair ornaments need to be removed as well. They will be uncomfortable against your skull.”

I choked back a desperate laugh but tried to loosen the fine gold string from my hair. My shaking fingers didn’t allow it. Nino moved closer, and I recoiled. His gray eyes locked on mine. “I will remove it.”

Dropping my arms, I nodded.

His long fingers untangled the adornments from my curls quickly. Then he stepped back again.

“Thank you,” I managed to say.

I forced myself toward the bed and lay down flat on my back, my fingers splayed out against the smooth fabric of the blankets.

Nino regarded me coolly. He stepped up to the bed. Tall and muscled and deadly cold, he didn’t look like this affected him in any way. He reached for his belt and unbuckled it. Terror clogged my throat. I looked away, fighting weak tears. From the corner of my eye, I saw him remove his boxers, and then he climbed on the bed, naked and determined. I trembled. I couldn’t stop myself.

His hand touched my waist then slid up slowly. The touch was light. I jerked away. “Don’t touch me.”

His eyes were hard and cold as he looked down at me. “You know I can’t. I won’t give your family any cause to take Las Vegas as weak.” It wasn’t said in a cruel way. He stated facts.

“I know,” I whispered. “Just don’t touch me. Just do what you must.” If there was any leading up to what was to come, I wouldn’t be able to contain my terror.

“If I don’t prepare you, it will be very painful.” He sounded like he didn’t care either way. “It would be better if we got you to relax.”

That wasn’t going to happen. “Just do it,” I said. Pain was okay. I could deal with it.

He regarded me for a couple of moments more. Then he pulled back his hand from my ribcage and sat up. His fingers hooked under the hem of my panties, and he slid them down. A low whimper wedged itself in my throat.

Tags: Cora Reilly The Camorra Chronicles Romance
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