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“I’ll have some clothes delivered to you tomorrow. Bathroom is that way.”
As if he needed to point out where the bathroom was situated. It had no freaking door and was in plain freaking sight of everything.
Still, the wedding gown had weighed her down long enough. A shower might be nice even if she had to wear his clothes. It might help her think better anyway.
She reached down and lifted the skirt of the gown, then with her head held high, she snatched the t-shirt off the bed and slipped in behind the shower cubicle only to realize the sparkling glass dome afforded her the whole view of his apartment. Which meant he would be able to see her naked while she showered.
Damn him and his stupid apartment.
Chapter Five
Not to be deterred, Vivian found a bath sheet that could help her cause. All she had to do was cover the glass door. She stood on the inside of the cubicle and nearly smashed her face into the glass as she jumped up high enough so she could throw the towel over the door. After a few more tries while still wearing her dreaded wedding dress, she finally managed to conceal the glass, blocking his view and only giving him a peek of her feet at the bottom of the cubicle.
She stripped off the clothes, but not without cursing the entire universe when she had to contort her body to get the ribbons undone at the back of the corset and she was certain she kept tightening them instead of loosening them up.
On the brink of tears, she searched the drawers for a pair of scissors and found no such thing. She picked up his razor and had no guilt that she might make it blunt if she tried to saw through the ribbon. But she couldn’t get a proper grip and her attempts proved futile.
She swallowed her tears and stepped out of the cubicle.
“Do you have a pair of scissors I could use, please,” she asked after having to clear the lump of unshed tears from her throat.
He looked at her. It took him a second to realize why she needed a pair of scissors. Instead of getting her what she so politely asked for, he strode toward her. Heat filtered through her pores. Her heart skidded to a stop and then beat like a crazy horse galloping with no direction.
Her nipples pebbled. Fresh wetness dripped from her folds onto her already ruined panties. She took a step back.
“Turn around,” he commanded, his voice filled with dominance, authority, and power. She didn’t even give herself a chance to hesitate before she obeyed him.
She closed her eyes as his fingers worked on the knot of the ribbon. His touch burned through the thickness of the corset. She couldn’t stop trembling as he parted the silk strips.
“Thank you,” she murmured, then dashed back behind the towel-shielded glass wall of the cubicle.
Hastily, she removed the gown, her shoes and stockings and her bra and panties.
She pressed a button and a waterfall of hot water fell over her. She didn’t care that it was too hot for her skin. It replaced the unwanted heat in her body that he had created.
She needed to get out of there. Back to Tobias. Nothing could stand in the way of their marriage. Or else everything would be completely destroyed.
After she had vigorously lathered herself up with his soap and used his shampoo on her long hair, she slowed her motions, and touched the pendant laying against her chest.
Her mother had died too soon but her dying wish had been that Vivian did everything in her power to protect her cousin, Uncle Matteo, and herself and get them all three out of the mafia for good. This remained etched in her heart. She wasn’t going to let her mother down.
The last year they’d live under a false sense of security, each knowing that Tobias Ariti would soon come knocking at their door for the bride he was contractually awarded. Vivian had no choice in the matter.
She towel-dried herself quickly, found some of his lotion and briskly moisturized her skin, then slipped into his T-shirt. She had already decided she would ask him for a pair of track bottoms as well but given how she drowned in his T-shirt; she would definitely not be able to move around in his track bottoms without them falling off her waist.
She was covered sufficiently enough, with the hem reaching just above her knees and it was loose enough too.
Staring at the monstrosity that was her wedding dress, she had no idea what to do with it. But she had to do something about her undies, like wash and dry them so she could wear them again. She didn’t feel very confident prancing around without any panties on, not when she was going to be entering the negotiation of her life.
She quickly blow-dried her hair using her fingers and soon her tresses turned into a sleek river of pin-straight strands, not one curl in sight. It was her curse to bear.
She washed her bra and panties in the basin and then squeezed out as much water as she could. She spent another ten minutes using the dryer on her underwear. Her bra was still slightly damp, but wearable and the thin flimsy material of her panties dried in record time. She removed the T-shirt, put on her underwear then slipped back into the T-shirt. She hated that it smelled like him.
Before she lost her nerve she strode out from behind her makeshift curtain which consisted of a bath sheet draped over the glass wall of the cubicle.
Now was not the time to start blushing and acting like an immature teen. She had the fight of her life on her hands.
She found him seated at the desk in what was his study, his laptop open.
