Trust Me (67 page)

Sandra
entered first; kicking her shoes off the minute she sat down on the large floral sofa. Creighton joined her on the coach and moaned, stretching out across her lap, his feet on the upholstered arm.

“If
you ever get pregnant, we’re buying everything online,” he complained, closing his eyes and pushing his shoes off with the toe of the opposite foot. Sandra laid her head back against the cushions and lifted her feet to the coffee table. Aryana was busy rummaging through the bags, looking over the many items and commenting on each one.

The
four sat in the living room snacking on the pastries, fruit and ice cream and discussing very inconsequential materials. They were too tired to care about much of anything, especially anything important. By midnight, Aryana had finally run out of energy and began to doze off. It didn’t take much persuasion to convince her to go to bed, followed by Daniel, who bade the other two good night.

Creighton
sighed deeply, pulling Sandra up by the hand and kissing her lips. He was impressed by the insight she had on the girl’s situation. Because of the ghastly amount of money spent on her shopping spree, she forgot all about her father and Milan.

“Want
to go to bed?” she asked him as he began to kiss her neck.

“Yes,”
he said with a wicked grin. Sandra giggled, wrapping her arms around his neck.

“I
was talking about sleeping. I’m exhausted.”

“If
we sleep tonight, you have to be willing to let me wake you tomorrow morning; my way.” Sandra blushed.

“What
exactly is your way?” Creighton asked as he lifted her in his arms, carrying her into their bedroom.

“You’ll
have to wait until tomorrow to find out.” He laid her on the bed and began to unfasten her sandals, tossing them aside before unzipping her pants. Sandra giggled when he pulled them off her, tossing them carelessly to the floor.

“Still
want to wait until tomorrow?” he asked with a sly smile. Sandra closed her eyes, his hands caressing the inside of her thighs as he tried to coax her into agreeing to his ideas.

“I’m
really tired; do you mind?” Creighton shook his head, pulling her to a sitting position and quickly disposed of her shirt, then laid her back down on the mattress and pulled the comforter up from the foot of the bed, covering her up.

“Sleep
now, my love. I have a bit of work to catch up on. I’ll be in shortly.” Sandra smiled, slowly drifted to sleep without further encouragement. She had no idea how he planned on waking her up, but she was eager to get the night over with so she could find out.

Creighton
stretched his long legs out in front of him, wrapping his arm around Sandra’s shoulders as they reclined beneath the hot bubbling water of the Jacuzzi. He had kept to his promise and woke her shortly after dawn; his mouth clamped onto his initials, his tongue teasing and playing with her clitoris until she realized what was happening and opened her eyes. After enjoying a
morning romp
as Creighton called it, they decided to opt out of the shower and relax in the hot tub instead.

They
had signed the papers for their house about an hour ago and faxed them back to Creighton’s solicitor before slipping naked into the hot tub. Everything was set; the house was theirs; the money was being transferred to Miriam’s father; the contractor was ready to start work that same afternoon and the furniture they ordered in Paris would be delivered on Friday.

Sandra
was quite relaxed as she snuggled close to Creighton; it felt as though they had already put in a full day’s work in just two hours, yet they still had to get ready for the last leg of their trip to Milan. She was eager to see Italy, but much more eager to get rid of Aryana and once again, be alone with Creighton.

She
thought about the press release that had been sent to the news stations and the number of texts she had already began receiving from friends, congratulating her and wishing her luck. She thought about the marriage license Creighton had secured, wondering if she was ready to get married on a whim, or should she insist on taking the full sixty days to plan a proper ceremony? Every time she thought about a wedding with all the trimmings, she found herself feeling ill. The thought of all of that had pushed her to make up her mind a little sooner than she thought she would when she first read Michelle’s e-mail yesterday.

“What
are you thinking about?” Creighton asked, nuzzling her hair with his nose.

“You’ll
think I’m mad if I tell you.”

“Try
me.”

“I’ve
been thinking about the wedding; weighing the options between a simple ceremony and a traditional one.”

“I
thought you had already decided on what you wanted?”

“I
had, but I wasn’t sure if I was thinking clearly or not. Now that we have the license, I figured I needed to step back and take a closer look at everything.”

“And
what did you decide?”

“Well,”
she said, pulling away from him so she could look him in the eyes. “Since you are the planner and you hate to have your itinerary disrupted; I need you to decide with me. If we were to marry now; and I’m only saying if, exactly how long would it take you to bring my grandparents and sister over to England?” Creighton’s eyes widened as he looked at the serious expression on her face.

“We
could have everyone here the day-after tomorrow if we were to arrange the trip today.”

“And
your family? Will they be able to make it that soon?”

“The
only one we may have an issue with is Sabrina, but that is because of her school and finals. I can call and see if she could make it.”

“If
she can't, then we wait as originally planned. I want both families there; no exception.”

“Agreed,”
he said and pulled her back into his embrace, kissing her passionately for several long moments.

“I
can’t believe any of this,” she said a few minutes later, after they stepped out of the hot water, wrapping the towel around their naked bodies.

“What?”
Creighton asked with a slight frown.

“Who
in their right minds, goes to France on vacation and gets married before it’s through?”

“We
do,” he answered with a warm chuckle and a wide smile.

The
trip to Milan was much more pleasant than Sandra had anticipated. Aryana was exhausted from her shopping the night before and napped in the back seat once again, allowing the other three some time to relax before meeting up with her father. Creighton had arranged a hotel for the night for the four of them; just in case The Don wasn’t as receptive to his daughter’s new husband as they hoped he would be.

Creighton
crossed the border into Italy a little after two that afternoon and rather than going directly to Aryana’s family home, he drove to the hotel. He insisted they settle in before he called The Don, so he could calm him down and prepare him to accept his daughter home without incident.

The
hotel was exquisite; white brick walls that stood twelve floors above the ground. The main entry was spacious with a number of elegant sofas, chairs and wooden tables mingled between large leafy plants. The floor was of course Italian marble and the guest counter was a deep rich mahogany wood with a gray granite top. Two lovely young ladies stood behind the counter as Creighton approached and were quickly joined by another; all three batting their eyes and blushing softly as he spoke to them in their native language. He took the key from one girl; a tall blonde with big blue eyes, while the other two, both brunettes, smiled behind her.

Creighton
wrapped his arm around Sandra’s waist and walked with Daniel and Aryana toward the lift, where the bellboy stood with their luggage on a cart. Before the box had a chance to arrive, Creighton turned to see a young woman in grey dress pants and a green blouse approach them. She said something in Italian, causing him to look very formal and very irritated. They spoke for several moments before the doors finally opened and the four stepped in, followed by the cart and bellboy, who held up a hand to prevent her from joining them. Sandra glanced behind the woman to see Parker approaching the lift and she sighed, smiling sweetly to the man who nodded to her.

“What
was that all about?” she asked Creighton once they were safely on their way up to their room.

“Reporter,”
he said flatly. “She wanted an interview about our engagement.”

“I
take it you said no?”

“I
told her we were here on business and couldn’t spare the time. I suppose we’ll have to eventually grant an interview, just not now. I want to get things settled here first.”

“I’m
scared, Cray,” Aryana said as if not hearing a thing they had been saying. “My papa will not listen to you; he will not be happy with Daniel. We should never have come.”

“He’s
your father,” Daniel said sternly in Creighton’s stead. “He will either accept me or not; we can’t make him happy if he’s determined not to like me. However, that won’t change the fact that you are my wife and I am the father of that little babe.”

“Aryana,
you have to allow your father and Daniel to get to know each other,” Creighton began. “But you also have to remember that Daniel is your husband; you answer to him first and foremost; he takes precedence above your father. Your duty now is to your husband and his unborn child.” Sandra listened with interest, as the girl nodded. The lift arrived to their floor and the bellboy pushed the cart out first, accepting the key Creighton handed him. He opened the door to the suite and pushed the cart in ahead of the others.

As
usually, Creighton waited as the others stepped in, then bent and picked Sandra up in his arms; kissing her briefly while he carried her across the threshold. He sat her down on her feet and frowned at the look she gave him.

“What’s
the matter?” he asked softly.

“Do
you honestly believe what you told Aryana? Do you believe a woman has to answer to her husband?”

“Yes,
the same as a husband has to answer to his wife. Marriage is a partnership Sandra; you can’t accomplish a lifelong commitment unless the union knows where their loyalties lie.”

“But
even at the risk of disobeying a parent? Would you take my opinion and my desires over that of your mother?"

“Without
hesitation,” he said sternly. “My first duty is to you, just as I expect yours to be to me. Would you put Cathy’s desires above mine? Would you leave me if your sister asked you to?” Sandra shook her head, sighing as he placed his forefinger beneath her chin and lifting her face to look into his eyes.

“I
know it sounds harsh, but I have been taught, and I firmly believe, that when a man takes a wife he leaves his family behind. There is nothing I wouldn’t do for you; I’ve already told you this and if my parents were to interfere I would put your needs and desires above them. I told Aryana that, because I know her father believes the same, though it will take him time to adjust to having a son-in-law.”

“If
we have a daughter, would you feel the same way?”

“I
may not approve of her choice and I will be there watching until I am sure that he treats her well, but I would expect her to put her husband’s needs above my desires.”

“Perhaps
it will just be a wait and see game,” she said gently. “I was always taught that family comes first.”

“Even
above your own husband?” Sandra frowned; she just wasn’t sure. “I’m not saying you will never see your family again after we’re married; I’m just saying that
our
family will be first in my life.” Creighton drew a deep breath, looking into her bright green eyes. “Come now, look around the hotel; I chose this suite especially for you.” Sandra sighed and walked through the small foyer with him, stopping in amazement to the sights beyond.

Unlike
the other hotels they had stayed in; this one was two-floors with a large set of stairs leading to an upper level; a thick mahogany banister surrounded the open hallway above which held two closed wooden doors. The bellboy came out of the one on the right and walked down the stairs and into the room they stood in.

The
room was elegantly decorated in old Victorian style, with two wine-colored settees, four matching wingback chairs and a deep brown grand piano in the corner. The floor length drapes were pulled open and Sandra watched the bellboy step between them to open the French doors, revealing a private terrace beyond. On the wall across from the terrace stood a marble fireplace and a gold filigree framed mirror above the mantle. The walls were covered in wine and gold colored floral wallpaper; the floor was a dark hardwood with a burgundy and gold area rug beneath the furniture.