CHAPTER 14

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Alina lifted her face towards the shower head. She blew at the steaming spray as it pelted her face. Smiling contentedly, she replayed her first night as Mrs. Casiraghi.
Now I have an idea what heaven feels like.

A warm fuzzy feeling rushed through her body and settled nicely in her tummy. The first night of her honeymoon was everything and more she thought it should be if she had fallen in love and married the man of her dreams. Alina ignored the little voice telling her that the man lying in the bed that she had quietly slipped out of was so much more of the lover a woman could hope for on the first night of her wedding.

If she had to rate him on a scale from one to ten, he was without question an eleven. Not that she had any notes to compare to, but Tomas was an exceptional lover. He was gentle yet demanding, challenging, patient, unselfish, and oh so satisfying.
I wish I could think of an adjective to describe him.

His stamina was amazing. He had not been kidding when he’d said, “rest for a while.” From the deep recesses of sleep, Alina had awoken in the very early hours of the morning by Tomas’ erotic caresses and his soft murmuring voice. It had taken her a moment or two to get past the haze of sleep to realize Tomas’ upper body was draped over her naked chest. His lips were teasing that sensitive hollow point between her neck and her shoulder. Groaning her pleasure, her hands had slid through his hair, cupping his head.

“Sleeping beauty you awake, finally,” Tomas had murmured and proceeded to make love to her all over again.

As she soaped herself, Alina mentally gave herself a hug, feeling totally satiated. The hug was short-lived as the shower door opened.

‘Wh—what are you doing here?’ Alina’s eyes widened like saucers. One hand quickly covered her breasts. The other flew down to hide her dignity. Tomas laughed, as he joined her and closed the shower door.

‘I am your husband cara,’ he smiled, removing her offending hands that hindered his delightful view. ‘You are beautiful,’ his eyes lazily appraised her breasts, curvy shape and long slender legs appreciatively. ‘Why do you want to hide from me?’ he took the soap from her.

‘I’m not hiding. A girl likes some privacy,’ she directed an angry glare at him.

‘You can have privacy in your handbag and your bank account cara, but your body is mine to behold,’ he proceeded to stroke the soap all over her body. His ministrations were deliberately slower as he soaped her breasts. She closed her eyes, it was just too nerve wrecking and …erotic. Her eyes opened as Tomas drew her up against his chest. His hands slid down her back and cupped her buttocks, moulding her against his piercing arousal.

‘I can’t seem to get enough of you tesoro,’ he pinned her roughly against the shower wall. Tomas chortled as her hands gripped his shoulders to right herself. He lifted one leg, securing it around his waist, his eyes trained on hers. He did the same to the other leg and made love to her until she succumbed to a mind blowing explosion. Too weak to move, Alina clung to Tomas trying to regain her breath. He held her tightly. He used one hand to soap and rinse her again. He wanted to carry her out of the shower, but she shook her head.

‘I’ll be out just now,’ she avoided his eyes. Tomas smiled, he kissed her on the mouth and exited the shower.

When Alina came out of the shower with the towel tightly wrapped around her body, Tomas was thankfully not in the bedroom. She had thought he would smugly stand there, staring as she changed. At least she could apply cream over her body in peace without an audience. Alina moved the plush curtain and looked out the window. It was a beautiful Mediterranean summer’s day. There was not a cloud in the sky. She chose an attractive above the knee paisley dress, comfortable sandals and went in search of Tomas. He was in the kitchen making breakfast.

He was casually dressed in an open necked sweater and denims. He looked so sexy. She had never before seen him in denims. His woody aromatic cologne was refreshing, spicy, but so provocative. It made her want to have sex with him all over again. Alina had a silent screaming match with her disgraceful body.

‘Buongiorno cara,’ his eyes skimmed over her dress. He seemed to like the way the dress hugged her hour glass figure.

‘Morning,’ she murmured, her eyelids lowered so he could not see the desire in her eyes.

‘You have beautiful feet cara.’

Alina looked down, inspecting her feet. Nobody had complimented her feet before, but this man paid attention to every detail. Why hadn’t she checked his feet out? Well if she kept her eyes opened on the occasions when he was bare-footed, maybe she could frown at his ugly, over sized feet and shapeless toes.

‘Thank you,’ she replied.

‘We’re going to have to make do with bread rolls, cold meats and coffee this morning,’ he smiled. ‘Is that okay?’

That was supposed to have been last night’s light dinner. Neither of them had wanted to leave the bed last night. Earlier as she’d dressed, Alina had seen the unopened champagne, thawed to room temperature.

‘What are you smiling at cara?’ Tomas held out the chair for her.

‘I should have brought the tray and champagne down.’

Tomas laughed. ‘Don’t worry cara. I have called my helper. She will do the cleaning up. We have plans.’

‘Where are we going?’ Her eyes lit up enthusiastically as she helped herself to coffee.

Tomas’ eyes became shuttered.

No doubt my wife expects her husband to foot the bill for her shopping spree in Milan. Who visited Milan and didn’t shop till they dropped?

He had already put a call through to the owner of the fashionable Stilisti at Montenapoleone and the exclusive fashion house at Quadrilatero d’ Oro. He’d given Alina’s size and asked them to prepare their latest designs for his imminent arrival.

Alina hoped Tomas would take her into the village to sample the fares at the traditional cafes. She loved learning the skills of their fusion of herbs and spices that certified the authenticity of traditional Italian cuisine.

‘We will do a little shopping cara,’ he met her eyes, ‘then I will show you where I grew up here in Milan.’

‘Oh that sounds wonderful,’ she smiled.

Tomas assumed she meant the shopping would be wonderful; Alina was referring to seeing where he grew up.

‘Tonight, I shall escort you to La Scala. You do like opera?’

‘Oh yes,’ she smiled again. ‘That sounds wonderful too.’ It was not easy to get tickets to La Scala – one of world’s most famous opera houses. Obviously King Casiraghi need only click his fingers.

‘Eat up cara,’ he nodded to the breakfast. ‘We have a full schedule today.’

Alina was not very hungry. Considering all the energy she’d used last night and this morning, she should be starving. Just thinking about how she’d used up all that energy made her face turn a bright hue of pink. She helped herself to a buttered roll.

‘Tell me why you are blushing cara?’

‘I’m not,’ she lied. ‘It’s quite warm,’ she fanned her face.

‘I wonder,’ there was a smirk on his face. Alina focused on tearing her bread roll to shreds. ‘I planned on driving you to Tuscany tomorrow. Would you prefer to fly? Perhaps you may not handle the hot weather.’

‘Tuscany!’ She came alive. ‘Yes---yes. I want to drive that is, please.’

She loved that scenic route. There was much, so much, she could sample en-route there. Alina could not wait. She could easily forgo the shopping and the opera for Tuscany anytime.

When Tomas stopped outside what looked like a designer boutique store, Alina was confused. She had assumed he meant grocery store when he’d said “shopping.” She looked about reluctantly as she waited for Tomas to open her door.

‘Cara,’ Tomas smiled, offering her his hand to alight his sports car.

‘What are we doing here?’ She ignored the warm sensation when her hand slipped into his.

‘I told you we’re going shopping. A lady can’t come to Milan and not visit Quadrilatero d’ Oro. That would be a sacrilege,’ he mocked in a condescending tone.

‘But you bought me tons and tons of clothes not even a week ago,’ Alina complained.

‘Cara,’ he smiled sexily, pressing his lips to her forehead. ‘You must be the only woman in the world who thinks she has too much clothes. Humour me,’ he guided her into the store.

Tomas was greeted at the door by an elderly lady with such reverence as if he was the Pope himself. He was a tad annoyed with the uninterested look in his wife’s eyes. She protested when he asked her to try on some of the gowns on display. The shop assistants were falling over themselves trying to please His Highness King Casiraghi.

Alina shook her head, declining every gown that was presented to her. Nothing appealed to her from the dozens of evening gowns, to the trendy day suits or the chic casual wear that was modeled for her and Tomas.

Tomas thought a particular cobalt day dress and one silver cocktail gown would look stunning on her, but she yawned and looked at her watch, much to Tomas’ annoyance. It was his fault he’d woken her from her deep sleep in the early hours of the morning.

‘Cara you will take one thing at least,’ Tomas hissed, ‘seeing the ladies have given us much of their time.’

‘Fine, I do like the skinny jeans, the blonde woman modeled.’

Tomas raised an eyebrow. He brings her to Milan, to the most exclusive fashion house and all she wants is jeans!

‘Fine,’ Tomas hissed back and strode to the shop manager.

Alina grew tired of waiting for Tomas. He was taking his own sweet time, just to pay for one pair of bloody jeans! She paced around the store whilst Romeo was laughing and having a good chat to the blonde model. She would not show him that it irked her that he flirted with other women right under her nose. Pretending to be fascinated with the diamonds on display, Alina smiled at the attendant following every step she took to the left or the right.

One would swear we had the same choreographer.

‘That is so stunning,’ Alina smiled falsely, pointing to a platinum chain, with a tiny pendant encrusted in white gold.

‘SÍ, La signora Casiraghi, it is a rare diamond from South Africa. There are only three in the world,’ the assistant smiled. ‘One is owned by a Russian Countess, the other by a Hollywood celebrity and this is the third one,’ she proudly announced.

‘How stunning,’ Alina repeated. ‘I absolutely love it,’ she lied. It really was the most beautiful thing she had ever laid eyes on, next to her wedding band, but she was not prepared to pay that ridiculous sum of money for it.

‘Would you like to try it on La signora Casiraghi?’

‘No! No thank you,’ Alina studied her watch deliberately. ‘I’m done, thank you.’ Alina looked up and glared icily at her husband, if he did not walk out the shop this instant, she was calling a cab and going home…to England.

‘Cara?’ He questioned innocently, as if it was his God given right to be a bloody flirt.

‘Did you get her number?’ Alina hissed and stormed out. She slumped against his car with her arms folded.

Tomas laughed when he saw her fuming at his car. ‘Jealous tesoro,’ he leaned towards her nonchalantly, brushing his lips down her neck.

‘“Jealous?”’ She scoffed at him. ‘I have to care, to be jealous Caro,’ she mocked. ‘But I hate you remember.’ She jumped in and slammed his door. Tomas had a murderous look in his eyes. He put her jeans in the trunk, slipped into his seat and drove silently.

He heard her talking on her mobile to Emily. Tomas thought to himself he could not really be angry at her for hating him.

I forced her to marry me. I took her away from her family and her beloved restaurant.

‘What’s a honeymoon Aunt Alina? Mum said you and Toe-muz are on a honeymoon.’

‘Um---I’ll tell you when I get back.’

‘Can I speak to Toe-muz?’

‘He’s driving?’

‘I made a picture for Toe-muz in art class. When is he coming home?’

What, I don’t exist anymore?

‘We’ll be home in two days time puppet.’

‘Can you ask Toe-muz to call when he’s finished driving?’

‘Will do, bye Emily,’ Alina cut the call. It seemed her place as most favourite person had been usurped by a scoundrel.

After a lengthy and Alina thought, uncomfortable silence, Tomas cut the engine off in front of a fancy house. There was a permanent scowl plastered across Tomas’ face from the time they left the boutique. As if she cared.

‘Whose house is this? Another of your lovers?’

‘Be careful cara, you are starting to sound like a nagging wife and you told me you don’t care,’ he warned in a soft voice.

Alina looked away, out her window. She was starting to sound like a nagging wife. They were barely married for twenty four hours.
Well keep your string of lovers away from me, damn it.

‘This is my father’s home, cara. We will be having lunch here.’

‘Your---father!’ Alina swallowed.

Tomas smiled, but it did not reach his eyes. It seemed he was not happy to be here. ‘You wanted to see where I grew up cara,’ Tomas looked up at the huge double storey home. ‘Until I was eighteen, I spent half my life here and the other half in our coastal home in Tuscany. You will see that tomorrow.’ Tomas stepped out of the car, went around to her side and opened her door for her.

Alina wondered if she made the right decision asking Tomas to bring her to see his family home. He seemed withdrawn, more uncommunicative than normal, edgy and distant. She was tempted to tell him to go back to his villa, that they did not need to go in, but she was mildly curious to meet Tomas’ father. Was he anything like Keres? Why did Tomas bring her here if he really did not want to be here? He definitely was not one to be bullied into doing anything he did not want to.

‘You will like my father cara. He is nothing like Keres,’ Tomas draped his arm around her waist lightly. Alina already like her father-in-law before she even met him.

It seemed strange that Tomas rung the doorbell and waited. A son hardly needed to ring his father’s door bell. He was supposed to open the door and walk right in.

‘Tomas,’ a rich baritone greeted Tomas warmly.

The voice belonged to a man nearly as tall as Tomas. Slightly shorter, thinner but exact eye and hair colour, a slightly older version of Tomas. Save for the crease marks around his eyes, the man could be a dead ringer as Tomas’ twin. At a glance you could not tell this man was older than Tomas. He was casually dressed in white trousers, a white shirt with about three buttons opened revealing an expensive gold chain hanging around his neck. Alina could never picture Tomas dressed like that or wearing jewelry so flagrantly.

‘Papa,’ Tomas greeted reservedly. He introduced Alina as his wife in Italian and completed the introduction to Alina in Italian as well.

‘Alina meet my father Nico Casiraghi.’

‘Signor Casiraghi, it’s a pleasure to meet you,’ Alina smiled politely.

‘Ah, the pleasure is all mine,’ Nico spoke in perfect English. I apologize for not attending your wedding, but I think my son would have told you my wife and I get along better when a continent separates us.’

‘I---,’ at a loss for words, Alina self consciously looked at Tomas.

‘Now you’ve embarrassed my wife papa.’

Nico laughed easily. Before he could respond, a serenading female was addressing Tomas.

‘Tomas caro, you have finally returned,’ she draped her arms possessively around Tomas and kissed him smack on the lips. She was pretty in the conventional sense, raven haired, with dark eyes. She was a little taller than Nico, but shorter than Tomas.

‘Simona,’ Tomas disentangled her arms from around his body. ‘How are you?’

With pouting lips she answered in Italian, telling Tomas how she missed him. How quiet Milan was without him and that nobody threw parties anymore just because he was not around.

‘Simona, I’d like you to meet my wife Alina. Alina this is Simona Felini, my father’s mistress,’ Tomas announced unsmilingly.

Mistress, in this day and age! AND she can’t be a day older than me.

Alina’s eyes almost popped out. She looked at Nico. It seemed he was used to and expected Simona to be introduced as his “mistress.” Alina’s eyes travelled to Simona, the same expression was displayed there. She had no qualms about being labeled, “mistress.’

‘Good afternoon,’ Alina greeted in English.

‘Wife?’ Simona looked at Tomas. You go to London on business for two weeks and return with a wife,’ she accused in English.

‘Tell Alina why you like being papa’s mistress,’ Tomas took Alina’s hand and guided her to the sofa. Alina was shocked at Tomas’ lack of manners.

‘Only for his money,’ Simona laughed, draping one arm around Nico’s neck. ‘He buy me house, give me charge card and take me on fantastic holidays all over the world,’ she answered blatantly. Nico smiled and nodded. Clearly the two seemed to have a good understanding. All the sex Nico needed in exchange for all Simona’s material needs. Alina was rendered speechless. She remained silent.

‘Let me show you around,’ Tomas led Alina out of the room. Like a typical Italian home, it had a huge kitchen where large families spent most of their time. Downstairs was the living area. Upstairs held the bedrooms. Tomas took her to his bedroom.

‘This was my room cara,’ he smiled, looking at the expression on her face. ‘I still use it when I stay over.’

Alina looked around the luxurious room, extravagantly furnished in dark mahogany furniture, a bed, big enough for three people. The ensuite held a marble bath, aluminum shower cubicle and a giant floor to ceiling mirror. ‘It’s you all right,’ she smiled at the opulence.

‘Why do I suspect that is not a compliment?’ Tomas drew her into his arms.

Alina got out of his arms, the bed was looking dangerous…and enticing.

‘So---your father maintains a mistress?’ Alina turned away from Tomas and moved closer to the window overlooking a beautiful garden and swimming pool.

The smile disappeared off Tomas’ face. He did not like talking about his family or discussing intimate details about his private life. He was quiet for so long, she thought he was going to tell her to mind her own business.

‘It’s the way it is in my country,’ his eyes met hers unsmilingly. ‘Wealthy men can afford to keep mistresses, so they do. Their wives turn a blind eye as long as the man is discreet and as long as the husband maintains the standard of living the wife enjoys. There is also no question that the wife holds legitimacy in the social arena,’ he finished.

Alina looked away. She wondered if that was a message for her. Was Tomas warning her because he was wealthy, he would keep a mistress as well and that he expected her, socially to stand by him?

‘So your mother is ---okay with this setup?’

‘Keres cannot complain,’ a look of anger filled his eyes. ‘Ever since I was a little boy my parents slept in separate bedrooms. I am an only child. What does that tell you?’ Tomas stood in one spot, his body all tense. ‘A man needs a woman in his bed cara,’ Tomas spoke without a trace of arrogance. ‘If a wife can’t perform her duty then a man will look elsewhere to fill his need.’

Is that a warning?

Alina stayed rooted to the spot where she was. Why the hell did she interrogate Tomas? His warning was clear all right. If she failed to satisfy him, he would go and find his pleasure elsewhere. Could she put up with that? Could she turn

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