Wife

Zia’s pov

My first flight and all my fears were thrown outside the window by Jason holding my hand and his comforting and safe presence. Him sleeping next to me felt safe, comfortable, like I belonged there next to him and him next to me. When we alighted our flight, there was a chauffer waiting for us to get into the black parked limousine. He stood there holding the door for us. Once we were in the limo, he drove off to the hotel.

We were in the hotel lobby when the receptionist greeted us warmly, “Welcome to La Mariana, Mr. and Mrs. Maslow. Your room is on the top floor with everything set as you ordered sir.” Did I hear her right? Mrs. Maslow? Was she talking about me? I saw Jason smirk when he saw my confused expression, he held me by my waist and whispered in my ear, “ You heard the lady, my dear wife. Our room is ready, let's go” he said as he guided me to the elevator. Once the elevator door closed, I asked, “You are enjoying this?”

“ What?” he replied, clueless.

“ Everyone calls me your wife” I replied, exasperated.

“ Yes, for this trip and many to come, you are my wife. It has a nice ring to it, like we are meant to be man and wife, don't you think?” My heart was beating so loudly as his reply was accompanied by him looking at me so lovingly like he did not want me to loose me and I was the most important thing in his life. So he had plans to marry me. Interesting!

I was about to reply when the elevator door pinged on our floor. We got out and, using the keycard, he opened the door to the room. Once in, I studied the interior of the room and it was beautiful. Cream-colored walls, navy blue sofas with mustard yellow throw pillows, vases with red flowers, a black-marbled bathroom and one bedroom with one bed. From the bedroom, I shouted, “ Jason, where is my room?”

“ This one” , he replied.

“ and yours?”

“this one”

“ I am not sharing a room with you, sir, and not even a bed with you” I replied menacingly

“ Why is that? We just slept together on the flight here.” Why did he make it sound so dirty, like we did the deed when in truth we didn’t?

Not wanting to argue with him, I said I would sleep on the sofa. His reply, “ Where you sleep, is where I will sleep. If it's on the sofa, we will sleep there. Besides, everyone in the hotel knows you are my wife. What will the maids think when they find you on the sofa while I am in the bedroom? Next thing you know, your picture is in all the blogs. Won't it be scandalous?”

I thought about it and there was no need to argue with him, it would be futile. I was tired from the flight so I went to bed, put on a pillow boundary. When he came and saw the pillow walls, he was laughing so loudly holding his stomach. “Oh my Zia, you think a couple of pillows will prevent me from cuddling with you? Now that I have known how peaceful and comforting it is to sleep and cuddle with you, you are not going to deny me that pleasure.”

Did he just admit that he enjoys cuddling with me? I could not help the reddening of my cheeks. He strode to the bed, removed the pillows and laid next to me. Then he hooked his arm to my waist, pulled me close to him until my back connected to his chest, then he whispered in my ear, “Sleep babe, we wake up in three hours so that I can take you shopping.”

Who am I to object when his deep, husky voice was just next my ears, and I could feel his minty breath on my neck and his woody musky cologne engulfing me leaving goose bumps and butterflies in my tummy, butterflies that I hoped he didn’t hear and making my heart thump in excitement by just thinking about our close to romantic position on this bed? I slept like a baby.

Three hours later, we woke up, freshened up and Jason held my hand as we walked to the elevator. I thought he would let go of my hand, but he didn’t. I looked at our entangled hands and when he saw where my attention was, he lifted our hands and kissed the back of my palm and the goosebumps and fluttering heart came in full swing. When we got out of the door, he opened the car’s door for me. As he drove out of the parking lot, he took my hands that were resting on my laps and held them and I loved this lovey dovey part of him but my pride wouldn’t allow me to admit that loudly. We talked, mostly him, about the tourist attraction sites in Bali and he promised to take me for a tour once we finished our meeting with the client tomorrow.

We stopped at Indy’s Fashion House. We were greeted by the reception, who directed us to sit as one of the shop attendants went to bring some of the clothes after Jason told them about my taste in clothes, to which he added some of his preferences. The attendant, Luce, came back a few minutes later and she directed me to the dressing room to try on the clothes. I was undressing when I felt a hand behind my back and I jolted in fear and surprise to find him there, Jason. “ I thought you might need help with the zipper”, he rasped near my neck with his breath trickling through my skin. I was wearing a yellow summer dress with a zipper at the back. He took his time unzipping the dress and all so often making sure that his fingers moved slowly down my back in the process. Why was the dressing room so hot all of a sudden? “ I will be outside. Model for me baby, I want to see you in the clothes I have chosen for you.” He said as he walked out of the dressing room.

The “modelling show” was fun and yet disappointing, as all the clothes I chose he rejected because, according to Mr. Hotshot over there, they would make men ogle at me. His eyes lit up when I wore a red dress that he chose and he said, “ You look delicious in that. Wear that for our date tonight.”I decided to play along with this joke for a date. “I didn’t know we were going on a date”

He chuckled and replied, “ we are going on our second date, and am not taking no for an answer. And by the end of the night, you will have no restrictions on being my girlfriend, because, if I continue giving you time to decide to be mine, I will probably never get an answer. So you, missy, better be prepared for what the night will bring.”

He was right, I was never going to agree to be his girlfriend. I have a lot of baggage, insecurities, inadequacies. I was scared of being used by him considering all the women swooning over him. He had all this fame yet I was nothing. He teased me saying I am his wife, but they were all jokes, right? Was he doing these nice things just to get into my pants? “ earth to Zia” he said, getting me out of my overthinking. “ Sorry, what did you say?”

He replied calmly, “ I have chosen some lingerie for you and it's time we went back to the hotel so that we can prepare for our date”. He chose my lingerie? He definitely wants to get into my pants. He must have sensed my thoughts because he replied, “ I don’t want to get into your pants, but once we get married, I will, every opportunity I get.”