114

I was happy that the time had come for our wedding night. My first real wedding night. I had waited too long.
On the drive to Dante’s Goldcoast mansion in Chicago, neither of us spoke. It seemed to have become an obnoxious tradition for us. I busied myself watching the traffic through the passenger window as I tried desperately to hide my growing nervousness. Was it possible to feel excitement and fear at the same time?
Dante slowed down as we approached a huge tan three-story mansion . The wrought-iron gates opened as Dante pressed a button on the dashboard, and we walked through, then into the double garage. My family’s mansion was not too far away. It was smaller than Dante’s house, as was to be expected. The Underboss could not have a bigger house than his Chief.
After parking next to a Mercedes SUV, Dante got out . He walked around the car and opened the door for me, then held out his hand and helped me out of the car, which was difficult with my dress. His hand was warm and firm.
I was always surprised not to find her skin as icy as her character. He let me go the moment I stood up, and I almost reached for his hand but stopped. I didn’t want to push him. Maybe he could only have gone wild behind closed doors.
He led me through a side door into the lobby of the mansion. The floor and stairs were dark wood and a chandelier cast a soft light on us. It was strangely silent. I knew that Dante had a maid and a cook, who took care of the house for him.
“I gave Zita and Gaby a day off,” he said casually.
Could she read me so easily?
“All right,” I said, then shuddered at the thought of how it might sound . I didn’t think we would entertain the whole house with the noise of our bedroom, but I preferred to have total privacy for our first night together.
Dante headed straight for the stairs, then paused with his hand on the railing to look at me. I had stopped in the middle of the lobby, but quickly rushed toward him and followed him upstairs. My stomach was trembling with nervousness.
This was my second wedding night, but I was almost as inexperienced as I had been all those years ago, something I really hoped would change tonight. Antony and I had kissed from time to time early in our marriage, and a few times he had even touched my breasts through my nightgown, but when it became clear to me that he did not like it , we abandoned those futile attempts at intimacy .
I wanted to become a real wife, a real woman, and unlike Antony, I knew that Dante was perfectly capable of consummating our marriage. But that was also my problem. What if Dante found out that I was a virgin? Could I hide it from him? Maybe if I asked him to turn off the lights, I could hide my discomfort or blame it on nervousness about being with someone other than Antonio. What if he felt my hymen? What would I tell him then? I should have used a vibrator to get rid of it , but the romantic part didn’t want to lose my virginity with a device. It was ridiculous.
My thoughts were interrupted when Dante opened the door to the master bedroom and gestured invitingly for me to enter. I walked past him, my wedding dress rustling softly at the movement. I cast him a quick sidelong glance to gauge his mood, but as usual his expression was unreadable. The king-size bed was black wood with black satin blankets. For a moment I wondered if he had kept it black after the death of his wife. And then a worse thought took its place: was it the same bed he had shared with his first wife?
“The bathroom is through that door,” Dante said, nodding toward a dark wooden door to my right.
I hesitated. Did he want me to freshen up? He closed the bedroom door and began to loosen his tie. Did he not want to undress me? He walked to the window and looked out, his back to me. I understood. Disappointed, I entered the marble bathroom. It was black marble, so maybe Dante simply liked black. I walked toward the window that faced the same direction as the bedroom window, wondering if Dante saw the same view as me; the rowdy lake, the black clouds dotting the night-blue sky and obscuring the full moon, or was he far away, lost in memories? The idea made me uncomfortable, so I turned away from the window and began to undress before taking a quick shower. I had waxed my legs in preparation for the wedding as was the tradition, so I didn’t need to shave.
After drying off, I put on the plum-colored satin nightgown I had bought for the occasion and combed my hair. My stomach was shaking again from nervousness and excitement. I took a few moments to compose myself, to fully appear the experienced woman I was supposed to be; then I returned to the bedroom. Dante had not moved from his place in front of the window. I allowed myself a moment to admire him in his black suit. He looked strong and sophisticated, untouchable, his hands stuffed in his pockets. An icy, cold, emotionless, controlled man.
I nervously cleared my throat and he turned toward me.
His cold blue eyes briefly scanned my body but his expression did not change. There was not even the glimmer of desire. There was nothing. It might as well have been carved in stone. Antony had at least complimented me on my beauty on the wedding night. He had even kissed me, had tried to pretend that he could desire me, but it had quickly become evident that the kiss had done nothing for him.
But what stopped Dante? I deflated inside at his reaction. I knew that many men found me pleasing to the eye and had never seen me so discreet, but Dante did not seem interested in me. I knew his wife looked nothing like me. While I was tall and dark, she was petite with light brown hair.
“You can lie down. I’m going to take a shower,” she said. Her gaze shifted for a moment, but then she strode into the bathroom and closed the door behind her.
Trying to fight the frustration, I walked over to the bed and crawled under the covers. With Antonio I knew he would not react to my body the way I wanted, but I thought it would be different with Dante. Maybe he needed a moment to gather his thoughts. It could not have been easy for him today. He had loved his wife and remarrying must have been really hard for him. Maybe he needed a shower to mentally prepare himself for his wedding night.
The shower ran long and eventually my eyelids became heavy. I tried to fight the fatigue but at some point I must have dozed off because I jolted awake when the bed went down. My eyes darted to the side where Dante was lying. His chest was bare and I wanted nothing more than to run my hands over his slightly tanned and firm stomach and chest. His cold eyes rested on me. It was impossible to tell what he was thinking. Would he contact me now?
I lay on my back, waiting for him to do something, nervous , excited and scared. I had to restrain myself from making the first move. It would have been too brazen.
“First thing in the morning,” he said simply, then turned off the light and rolled away from me. I was glad that the ‘darkness hid my shock and disappointment. I waited a few more minutes for him to change his mind, to claim his rights, but he did not. He lay beside me silent and motionless, his back inches from my arm.
Pain began to form inside me and I turned around, moving away from him. Dante liked women, so why didn’t he want to sleep with me?
What was wrong with me that after two wedding nights I was still as untouched as virgin snow? I wasn’t sure I could go through this again. I wanted to experience lust, I wanted to be desired. With Antonio I knew from the start that trying to seduce him was a losing battle, but with Dante I had to at least try. Even though he still loved his wife, he was a man. He had desires and I was perfectly capable of giving him what he physically needed, even if he kept his emotions hidden.
I listened to his calm breathing. Even though we did not touch each other , I could feel the warmth radiating from him. He was not an ice man. There had to be a way to break his mask.