Angel’s Promise by Aleatha Romig

Emma

Too many emotions fought for dominance as I stared into the courtyard two stories below. The Ramses family crest changed color as bubbles floated to the top of my champagne flute. Ian had brought up the bottle only to learn Rett had left. Maybe because it was my wedding and I was the bride, or because my new husband had left to tend to fires, or perhaps it was learning that my business partner who I would begrudgingly call my friend was deceased, I couldn’t say for sure what exactly prompted my drinking spree. I just knew that I wasn’t a big drinker and the more of the champagne I consumed, the less I thought about all the reasons to drink.

Instead, I focused on what had occurred near that fountain, the vows Rett and I had spoken. Knowing that neither of us had rehearsed somehow made the vows even more special, as if there hadn’t been time to build our feelings up into something that society deemed appropriate. The words we spoke were simply honest thoughts given from one to another without the fanfare of a large church or hundreds of onlookers.

Rett and I both admitted to our shortcomings as husband and wife. Those weren’t meant as an excuse for future behavior or a negative assessment of what was to come. Our admissions were a reminder that this relationship and the deal we’d made would take time.

As I swirled the remaining golden liquid, I told myself that repeatedly: time.

It was one thing I had in abundance.

Truly, to look around at the house, I had many things. It didn’t occur to me until after Rett was gone that we didn’t sign a prenuptial agreement. It was one of the many questions I had waiting for the right time.

There it was again: time.

Another check of the computer’s corner clock told me the time was nearing midnight. If Rett didn’t return soon, our wedding day would be over.

As I sipped the champagne, I shook my head at the man I’d married. I’d already told myself he was a master at manipulation. His rule upon leaving was another example. I’d be lying if I didn’t admit that his forbiddance was a seed of thought that sprouted within my mind. Yes, I’d considered defying him, not to learn the penalty but to relieve the pent-up frustration he left behind. It was as I was washing the makeup from my face and combing out my long hair that I saw his command for what it was—a diversion.

By thinking about the sexual need he’d left unattended, I wasn’t thinking about what took place following our private ceremony. I wasn’t rehashing my brother’s words about Ross or his plea for me to speak to Jezebel, the woman he called the mother of both of us.

Sadly, with time my thoughts did drift from away my physical needs to revisit what happened.

I was left wondering who I should believe and who warranted my anger: Rett or Kyle and Liam. The question boiled down to who was telling me the truth. Call me naïve but I wanted to believe the man I’d just married. I couldn’t bear to imagine that Rett was responsible for my abduction and the degrading way I’d awakened. I also knew without a doubt that he was the one who saved me, who covered me with his shirt—literally off his back—and carried me to safety.

As the last five weeks rewound through my mind, I couldn’t come up with a single time Rett had lied unless omission counted—Ross’s death.

I recalled times Rett hadn’t answered my questions and instances where I’d pushed for more, but never had I caught him in a lie. When it came to Kyle, I could go back a decade and make a long list of lies or untruths. Of course, those didn’t really count. They were fabrications spoken between siblings. The world dubbed them “white” lies as if those were better than other options.

I recalled the time Kyle had eaten the last brownie and blamed me and the instance when he purposely recorded over my favorite show and blamed it on equipment malfunction. Neither of those occurrences were earth shattering, and yet they were both untruths.

And none of them—not one—compared to the biggest lie of all, making me believe that he was deceased, letting me mourn, and presumably watching as I tried to survive without my family.

Liam wasn’t any better—my heart told me he was worse.

Had Liam’s lies began when we first confronted our feelings?

The lies he told didn’t have the innocence of sibling rivalry. No, Liam’s untruths were the most heartbreaking, the promises of forever, the one that seduced a girl into believing she was a woman and taking her most prized possession. Yes, he’d taken my virginity—or more accurately, I’d given it—but that wasn’t what I missed; the severing of a membrane wasn’t as important as the object he took.

As the doorknob to the hallway clicked, I felt the void of what I’d given Liam long ago—a hole within my chest, the place where my heart should be.

Maybe if it wasn’t gone, I could consider giving it to Rett, my husband.

I turned toward the door, watching it move inward.

A smile came to my lips as Rett stepped beyond it. His hair had lost its gelled perfection. His tuxedo coat was missing, his tie loosened, and his sleeves rolled up to below his elbows. Even though he’d shaved before our evening wedding, sprouts of dark hair growth were beginning to show on his cheeks and chiseled jaw. However, it was what was between his mussed locks and stubbly chin that had my attention.

Rett’s dark gaze came my way as his steps brought him closer.

He tugged at the opening of my robe and ran the sash through his fingers. “When I left you, this robe wasn’t present.”

My body turned toward him. In my bare feet, he was significantly taller, yet we fit together—he and I. Rett was a magnet I couldn’t repel as our hips touched. If I weren’t leaning back to see him clearer, my breasts would be against his solid chest. “When you left was a long time ago.”

His palms framed my cheeks. “I’d like to tell you that it won’t be like this, that work and fires won’t take me away.” Kisses came to my hair as he tilted my face down. When our gazes again met, he went on, “I can’t tell you that, Emma. I can’t help that there will be times I must be gone. But believe me when I say that never before have I wanted to get away from a meeting like I did tonight.” He stepped back and tugged at the sash until the tie released. A grin curled his lips as the sides hung open, revealing what I’d hidden beneath. His dark orbs came back to my eyes. “Tell me.”

“What, Rett?”

“My rule.”

I’d followed it to the letter and having him close twisted my core tighter, almost painfully so, but I was curious. “If I broke it, what would happen?”

“I’d walk away...to my suite.”

“And tell me to follow?”

“And leave you while I take care of myself in an ice-cold shower.”

“So, my punishment would be...” I left it open.

Rett lifted my chin, bringing my lips to his. “You didn’t break my rule, Emma. I see it in your beautiful eyes. I can smell your desire. It’s hanging around you like the most enticing perfume. I know that you waited. Tell me why? Were you worried about what would happen?”

My head shook. “I wasn’t. You don’t scare me, Everett Ramses.” I laid my hand on his white shirt and splayed my fingers, feeling his heartbeat. “I wasn’t worried. The truth is that I didn’t want some sort of relief. I’m your wife. You’re my husband. We have a lot to work on in this marriage, but granting sexual pleasure isn’t one of them. I waited, not because I couldn’t ease the tension on my own, but because I didn’t want that. I want what only you can give me, what only I can give you. I want it both ways. I want you, Everett Ramses, more than I’ve ever wanted any man in my life.”

His eyes closed and opened as he inhaled and exhaled.

“What?” I asked.

“I have questions I want you to answer.”

He had questions. I had a damn journal full. Instead of saying that, I swallowed my comment and nodded. “Not tonight, Rett. Tonight is us. Tonight is our wedding.” I turned toward the computer, unable to see the small numbers in the corner. “What is left of it is about us.”

My feet left the ground as he reached down, cradling me in his arms and carrying me away from my suite. It was silly, but I didn’t enter his suite when he was away. The rooms were intimidating to say the least. And yet when I was with Rett, his presence made them welcoming.

Through the dark hallway we traveled and into his dark suite.

He gently placed me on his sofa and went to the giant fireplace. With the dim light from the windows, I watched as he moved, majestic and proud. There was a grace to his step that could never be interpreted as unmanly. As he leaned down and brought the fireplace to life, I saw for a moment the man others saw, the one who commanded others and ruled with an iron fist.

Rett Ramses wasn’t the king of New Orleans simply because he took the position. There was regality in his blood that couldn’t be hidden, even in our private suites.

Flames roared to life within the giant enclosure, flickering and sizzling. It was as Rett turned in the fire’s light that I saw the same inferno within his dark eyes. This wasn’t a reflection of what he’d just started but a manifestation of what had been growing since the night at the restaurant.

That night, he’d told me I would be his wife.

He’d proclaimed it would happen, and as I peered momentarily at my left hand, I knew that the man walking toward me was more than the king of New Orleans. He was more than a prophet of fate’s demand. Everett Ramses was capable of changing my stars.

A tap of his phone and the room filled with music.

Rett’s hand was before me.

I stood; the warmth from the flames reminded me that he’d loosened my robe. I reached for the sash.

“No, leave it.”

My breath stilled as I stared into his gaze. There was one thing I wanted to say—three simple words that were on the tip of my tongue—and yet I wouldn’t lie. I wouldn’t proclaim emotions that I couldn’t share even if on our wedding night it seemed right.

Rett’s large hands pushed the robe from my shoulders, leaving me naked in the firelight. He gently moved my long blonde hair behind me as he scanned my body from my toes to my hair. “Emma, you’re perfection.”

I took a small step and stopped. “Now, may I even our playing ground?” I reached for the loosened bow tie. When Rett didn’t respond, I pulled it free. Next, I began undoing each button down his wide chest. Then, I pulled the tails free and unbuckled his belt. As I worked lower, I knelt down. It wasn’t planned. I hadn’t given my actions that much thought. Nevertheless, soon I was on my knees in front of my equally nude husband.

I peered up. “I want to be everything you want in a wife.” His erection was right in front of me. Rett wanted submission. I didn’t move, staring upward as his chest inflated and deflated with each deep breath.

“Tell me what you want, Emma.”

“I want to please you. I’m not submissive, yet when you’re here and I’m here, I want you to want me.”

His hand came my way.

I placed my palm in his larger one and stood. The music was still playing. The flames were still flickering. He wrapped one arm around me and took my other hand. In seconds, we were dancing, both nude in front of his fireplace.

It was like nothing I’d imagined ever in my life.

It was perfect in every way.

When the song stopped, Rett’s arms encircled me as his forehead came to mine. “I never gave it any thought, not before now.”

“What?” I asked.

“What I wanted in a wife. I honestly never imagined marrying, and if I did, it was strictly for power and influence.”

“Is that what you get marrying me?”

His hands skirted my arms as they came up to my cheeks. “So fucking much more, Emma. You never need to worry that you’re enough or right or if I want you. Banish those thoughts away tonight. We will argue. There are things we need to discuss, but at this moment, you were right. Tonight, I want you to know that you are everything I never knew I wanted and more. You are Mrs. Emma Ramses.”

I smiled at the use of my first name. “And Mrs. Everett Ramses,” I added.

“We have some battles to fight, Emma. What we need to decide is if we’ll fight them together or against one another. I want you on my side.”

“The Ramses side.”

Rett nodded. “It’s your name now.”

I too had many thoughts. There were the things Miss Guidry had said and questions I’d conjured up before our wedding and since. Nevertheless, at this moment, I wanted to be on Rett’s side. I took a step toward his bed and our fingers intertwined. “Come show me.”

His lips curled upward. “What do you want to see, Mrs. Ramses?”

“Not see. You promised me a night of lovemaking, of so many orgasms I’d lose count. I have trusted you, Rett. Don’t let this be where you let me down.”

As he threw back the covers and exposed the soft sheets, I had no concerns about his inability. Whether making love or the simple brush of his lips on my hair, there was a pull and a connection that I wouldn’t deny. Tonight would be a culmination of the intimacy we’d shared, all brought together with the knowledge that now we were married.

I kept count of the number of times he brought me to ecstasy until I couldn’t, until my body was awash on the shore of satiation. We’d both found our mountains and our cliffs. Hand in hand, we’d climbed together only to jump as one. Together we’d found bliss and gone back for more. At some point, I believe I slept in his arms only to awaken to the rhythm of his thrusts. No longer forceful, we had progressed to the part of the night that was what songwriters meant when they spoke of making love. It was the slow and meaningful cadence of two people who simply don’t want to disconnect but rather to stay as one.

When my eyes finally opened, and my body was used, sore, and oh so satisfied, I was alone in Rett’s suite. The sun shone through the tall windows and on the table near the fireplace was a silver-domed dish and a vase with a single red rose. On Rett’s dresser the clock told me that it was almost noon. It appeared that I’d slept blissfully through the night and into half the day.

As I pulled the sheets around me, I realized Rett had done exactly what he’d promised. He’d made love to me throughout the night. We both had questions to be answered and things to share, but last night had not been the time.

My muscles ached as I moved. It was as my feet hit the floor from way up high upon his large bed that I saw the note near the domed plate.

Mrs. Ramseswas scrolled on the outer fold. Opening the paper, I read:

“I could spend every night like last night.

Eat, shower, and come to my office. Ian will show you the way. We need to talk.

~Rett”