Page 67 of Teaching Roman

“Mmmmhmmm.” My brain had stopped forming words.

His hand threaded through mine and we dashed up a block, laughing, until he finally hailed a cab. The interior of the taxi was worn and dirty and the least romantic place I’d ever been in, and I couldn’t have cared less. My gaze was trained on Roman and his on mine. We were so lost in each other that it took the driver clearing his throat before we realized we’d arrived. Roman tossed way too much money at him which elicited an enthusiastic thanks and the driver’s business card.

“Mr. and Mrs. Markson,” the British concierge called as we came in. The name hit me like a ton of bricks. I wasn’t certain I’d be taking Roman’s last name, but there was something thrilling about hearing her say it. If only because it was a reminder that I was his wife.

“Yes,” Roman said, skidding to a stop.

“We are so happy to hear of your marriage,” she said. “We’ve taken the liberty of arranging a villa for you this evening.”

“But our things,” I said. I was already forming a list of all the items I would need from my bags. I had promised Lillian I wouldn’t get pregnant. That meant I needed some supplies.

“That’s kind of you, but not necessary,” he said. It was obvious he was making his own list of all the items which had to be transferred. I guessed it had less to do with inconvenience and more to do with wanting to take me to bed.

“The villa is ready for you. We can show you where they are if you like.”

“We know our way,” Roman said, his lips twitching. The concierge handed us a key and wished us well.

As soon as we were out of the building, we ran hand in hand to the villa. It was the same one Cassie and I had stayed in during our trip.

“Which one of your friends do we owe this upgrade to?” he asked as he slid the key into the lock.

“I didn’t tell anyone,” I said slowly, confusion creeping into my happy stupor. “I thought you told the hotel.”

“It didn’t occur to me. All I could think about was getting a ring on your finger,” he admitted as he opened the door.

“Aba?” I guessed. She was the only one who knew we were married. I hadn’t even texted Jess or Cassie. This seemed like an in-person announcement.

“Perhaps we can set Nancy Drew on the case?” Roman suggested. “I’ll call her later. For now, I’m under orders to take you to bed.”

“From your grandmother,” I said.

“Who is a wise woman,” he reminded me. Before I could respond, he’d lifted me into his arms again. “Over the threshold, Mrs. Markson?”

Throwing my arms around his neck, I buried my face against his shoulder. “I think I’m keeping my name.”

“I figured as much,” he said as he carried me into the bedroom. “But would you mind if I made love to Mrs. Markson for the afternoon?”

I shook my head, already considering hyphenation. “Not in the least.”