Chapter 36

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Luca

I place Mariya on the couch and make sure her leg is comfortably propped up on the pillows.

"I'm going to make an early dinner. Okay?"

She nods, pulls her phone out, and looks through wedding images.

"How's the planning coming along?" I ask as I walk to the kitchen.

"Good. My mother found a designer who's able to make the dress in the next three months."

My eyebrow pops up as I open the fridge. "You've already decided what dress you want?"

"Yes, and you're going to love it."

Setting two rib-eye steaks down on the counter, I glance at Mariya as I tear the packaging open.

She seems to be fine, but I'm still worried. I'm not sure if she's bottling everything up or just fucking superwoman.

She catches me watching her and smiles. "I'm really okay.

There's nothing to worry about. Well, unless you don't feed me soon."

Superwoman it is.

I was actually relieved when she had the panic attack and cried. No one can go through what she did and not break down.

But if it's one thing I've learned, Mariya doesn't cry easily. I hate that she sees it as a weakness because it's not.

The Mariya I thought I knew before we got married and the one I've gotten to know are two different people. She comes across as a spoiled socialite, but once she lets you in, you see the confident, strong woman she is.

My little dynamite.

Wanting to do something special for her, I ask, "What's your favorite thing to do?"

"Shopping." Her eyes are glued to her phone, a glow of excitement on her face as she plans our wedding.

"Just shopping?"

"Yep. Sorry for you, but you got a wife who loves a life of luxury."

I let out a chuckle as I roll up my sleeves to my elbows. "I don't mind."

I cut the steaks into thin slices and panfry them in olive oil and garlic. I add some Italian herbs and let the meat simmer in its juices while rinsing the vegetables.

"What are you making?" Mariya asks, her voice sounding different.

I turn my attention to her, and seeing her flushed cheeks, I ask, "Are you feeling okay? Feverish?"

"No. I'm fine."

"Pain?"

"Nope."

"Why's your face flushed?"

"I'm turned on from watching you cook," she admits without batting an eye. "I love it when you roll up your sleeves."

"Yeah?" I grin at her. "If I had known making stir-fry would be a turn-on for you, I'd have made it much sooner."

I turn off the gas and rinse my hands. While drying them, I pin Mariya with a look. "Do you want another show, baby?"

"Hmm..." She tugs her bottom lip between her teeth. "No, I want you to make me come."

Christ. I love how direct she is. There's no having to pry information out of her.

Slowly I walk closer until I'm standing next to the couch. "You sure you're up for an orgasm?" I gesture at her ribs.

"They're fine. It's been a month already. I have cobwebs that need clearing out."

I take my time undressing for my woman, watching as desire darkens her eyes.

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