"That's not true, Liam. What are you saying now?" I'm hurt and astonished by this allegation. A second thought? Not even in my dreams. Moving closer to him, I take a deep breath and say, "Forget what I said, okay? Let's go and have dinner. I'm starving." 

I don't want to fight with him. God, it's too early to argue when we've just landed in this place I'm supposed to call home. I step away but he holds my hand so that I don't move. 

"Kira, listen." He palms my cheeks and I look tentatively at him. "My only priority right now is to make you feel at home. If it weren't for these problems at the company, all I wanted was to spend as much time as possible with you on that honeymoon we've unfortunately cut short." He sounds desperate and I don't want him to be. 

"I know, Liam, trust me." I try to make him see my point. "I'm not complaining about anything . . . I'm just . . . . I'm just used to being busy and I suddenly realized that I won't be. You'll start working tomorrow and I'll be here, alone, and I don't know how I'll cope with this new life." A nervous laugh lurches out of my lips at the thought.

Honestly, it is not as easy as I imagined. Being in a foreign country without any knowledge of what you want to do is like walking in a deep and dark tunnel with a single hope to find the light at the end. 

Liam stares at me for a long moment before exhaling heavily. "Fine. We'll discuss this later, or tomorrow—I don't know." He frees my face, looking as confused as I am. "I just don't want us to fight or argue right now, Kira. We've just arrived and it's your first day in my house, and I'm already feeling like a big failure to upset you like this."

"Our house, Mr. Darcy," I correct him, trying to restore the playful mood we were in before we began worrying over things that can hopefully be fixed in time. 

"Exactly. Our house," Liam affirms, his bright smile back on his face. I grin triumphantly when he stoutly draws me closer. "This is now your home now. Our home."  With dominance he's holding the small of my back with one hand. 

"Thank you," I whisper. "And I don't want to fight with you either."

"But you still love stirring me up with your uncalled for astuteness." Saying this, he strokes the back of my head, grabbing my hair. My breath hitches. "You are acting as if I can't take care of you while I'm very capable of fulfilling your every need!" He tilts my head backward, so sharply that I moan startled.

His lips are on my navel, kissing my jaw, then my neck, tantalizing me in a soft torture, and I love every bit of it. 

"Does this . . . does this mean you don't want me to work?" I breathe, my voice husky and fervent.

A part of me is afraid of Liam's take on this, for the last thing I need is an overbearing husband who wants to dictate my career and other aspects of my life. I do believe he's not that type of a man, because if he is, then we are going to have a very big problem. 

"You can work," Liam rasps, taking my face closer to his vehemently. Pheew! My insides relax. "But it doesn't have to be right now, Kira. It definitely shouldn't be right now." He stares strongly at me, his eyes and words corresponding with perfection.

So, he's only concerned about timing, right? I guess that's negotiable. I also need some time before I get back to my career. 

"Okay." I nod softly like a docile kid, and he looks happy as he smiles. Pulling my face close, my body tighter onto his, he kisses my lips again.

Deeply his tongue coaxes mine, our hearts racing faster as we mould together, taking each other's breath away. As fastidious as he may be, he's my husband and I know we can reach an agreement whenever we differ. 

"Are you going to continue making me horny, or fuck my brains out istead?" I mutter while grabbing the buttons of his shirt in a hurry, feeling his bulging erection against my thigh. 

"Fucking your stubborn brain will do perfectly well at this moment." As though driven by fury, my husband's lips are slammed back onto mine. I finish the last button of his shirt, and in return he pulls my top over my head, doing it away. 

"Good." I grin at him, desire storming in my body like a whirlpool. "Kiss me." I grab his neck and he takes my wish as his command.

Worried about living in a foreign land? Fuck, I'm sure I could go to hell with this man so moving countries is nothing.

"You're mine!" Liam pushes me onto the bed and I land as easily as a fish in the water. 

"Always." I grin. Smirking he shrugs out of his shirt and pitches it on the floor. "As you're always mine." I prop up and unhook my bra, eyes on him. 

"Good that you know." His watch slides out of wrist and I devour his sculpted abs when he moves impatiently toward the bedside table. 

When he holds my body, kissing every inch of my skin, making me moan his name like a protective mantra, I find that slice of heaven I never knew existed until he came along. I think it's one of the million reasons why I can't be away from him.

He's my sweet addiction.

Deeply I'm aware that  living with him won't always be rainbows and sunshine, nor candlelight and a bed of beautiful red roses, but I'm ready to lay my love on him, to take every risk I can possibly take, and to go all the way just to make this marriage work. 

I sit in my new bed after a good welcome home sex and dinner made by Mrs. Prescott. A warm bath with my husband was, to say the least, the best dessert any wife could ask for. I didn't need any sugar to have the sweetness. Now I'm holding my new diary, my first entry being the new beginning. 

Dear God,

I'm putting everything in your hands for I'm a very weak indecisive creature.  My husband, my marriage . . . absolutely everything. I'm not a great Christian, and you're a witness to that, but my faith in you has never withered. Whether you exist or not, I've always found hope and comfort in you, and that's why I need you now more than I've ever needed you all my life before. They tell me marriage isn't easy, but I hope you can make it bearable. 

I write a few more lines until Liam walks back into our bedroom, his smile big and satiable as he shuts the door behind him. First day of November, and my first day in a foreign country, and my first day in my husband's house—my new home. 

Could this be the new beginning I've always wished for? Perhaps it is. 

Am I nervous? Absolutely I am. 

"Time to sleep, Mrs. Darcy. Do you need anything?" Liam is already in his pajamas, and I'm all set in the comfort of this fluffy and super clean bed. 

"Nothing I can think of except the whole package of you, Mr. Darcy." I shut my diary and slip it into its leather folder. Placing it into my bag, I mutter, "I'm ready to call it a day." 

Liam joins me and my first day in London proceeds rather spectacularly. Cuddling in bed, Liam tells me plenty of his childhood stories, especially the fact that he constantly demanded to have a baby brother or sister from Eleanor. It was cute yet sad. 

Little did Liam know that his parents couldn't have a child of their own. It took him eleven years to learn that Eleanor wasn't his biological mother, but his maternal aunt. But not even once had he felt like Eleanor wasn't a mother, for she still is. 

***

The morning comes and my doubts are cleared. It wasn't a dream—this time it's real. I smile to myself as I struggle to wake, the sun shining faintly through the East window facing the garden. 

What time is it? I jolt up awake, eyes scanning around the room. 

"You're up?" Liam's voice feels like a succulent cappuccino on Monday morning.

I turn around and meet a breathtakingly handsome man accented in a pair of black dress pants, a light blue shirt, and a navy plaid blazer. I blush profusely, laying back lazily while hugging the pillow to my chest

"What?" Liam smiles, his gaze amused. 

"Is it legit for husbands to look this hot in London?" I abandon the bed gingerly and pace over toward him.

"You're crazy," he mutters, glancing at me with a placid grin while fastening his silver wristwatch.

"No, I'm not." I reach him and his hands take a gentle hold of my waist, filling my nostrils with the scent of his cologne that everlastingly steals my breath away. "Hmm. I'll miss you," I hum while nuzzling his stubbles. 

"I'm not leaving the country, baby. I'm only going to work," Liam replies. 

"Even so. Especially with how delicious you look, how do I keep my restless heart at bay?" I lift my gaze up at him, meeting his mesmerizing features—his skin light and healthy, eyes bright and blue. "Well, I'm just saying, Mr. Darcy. Be extremely careful of what's mine. I happen to be very selfish on that area so they better keep their hands off." I love playing around with him. 

"Oh." Enticed, Liam's hand slides from waist to my behind through the smooth satin of my sleeping robe. "And who are they?" He lifts a single eyebrow, seemingly amused at whatever's about to pop from my smart mouth.

"The English bitches? And international ones?" I whisper, chuckling. "As hot and sexy as you are, Mr. Darcy . . . you're now off-limit."

"Oh, well, I shall keep that in mind, Mrs. Darcy," replies Liam, enjoyment registered brightly on his radiant face that looks so serene and well-rested. "What are your plans for the day? I'm sure you have some things to do even with my absence." He gently squeezes my little behind, nothing intrusive. 

Taking ahold of his shirt's collar, I reply, "I guess I'll give myself a house tour, make calls to Sam and Eleanor, unpack our bags, and maybe . . . maybe take over Mrs. Prescott's kitchen for dinner." My smile is provoking as I adjust the triangle of his necktie. 

"Is that your sagacious trick to have me home early?" Liam murmurs, his head slightly jerked up to ease my task. 

"Bingo." I grin. Of course, I'd love to have him early at home. 

Who wouldn't? My subconscious is with me on this one. Cheers, bitch!

"And . . . about the kitchen. Are you going to cook?" Liam's voice is a mixture of excitement and anticipation over my answer. 

A young boy in him resurfaces, his eyes gleaming hopefully. Eleanor was right—he loves it when I cook for him. 

"Well . . . " I wrap my arms around his neck. "Just maybe, Mr. Darcy. Have a lovely day at work, and say hello to Malik. I love you." My mouth touches his into a gentle kiss. 

"I love you, too, Mrs. Darcy," he replies. "You can ask Lisa to give you a house tour. Or you can do it yourself as you're quite good in promenading anyway. After all, you managed to find the river on your very first day at the ranch." He's utterly cajoling. 

"Shut up!" I laugh loudly at the freaky memory. He laughs along. "And who is Lisa?" I quiz, my face serious.

"The girl who works here," Liam replies and I let him finish getting himself ready by stepping aside. 

"Oh?" I fold my arms across my chest. "Why didn't I see her yesterday?"

"I don't know. Maybe it was her day off." Liam shrugs, unsure of his answer. "She's related to Mrs. Prescott. Her niece if I'm not mistaken."

"I see," I breathe, getting a little homesick as I watch Liam adjusting his cufflinks. "You're going." I sigh. 

"Hmm. Be safe." His lips find mine again and our kiss deepen more than intended. 

I don't think the honeymoon stage is fading so soon, even though I hear it never lasts. Well, the future is always uncertain so why should I stress? I desire more of my husband each and every new day, and I want to enjoy it for as long as it lasts.

"Oh shit!" I draw back, laughing at the familiar heat spiking in my body as though we're still in Maldives. 

Liam giggles. "As hot and seductive you are, dear wife, I really need to leave you untouched—for now. But don't worry. I'll be home early. We do have a place to go." He marches towards the bedside table.

"Oh. Where is that?" I'm intrigued.

"Surprise, baby." Liam winks and I grunt in a sweet annoyance. "Bye." He makes his way out, laughing his victory.

"Aren't you going to have breakfast?"I ask.

"No, my love. I'll be late if I stay a minute longer. And I hardly eat breakfast at home," 

"Really? I guess we'll have to fix that." I'm not a breakfast person, either, because I hate eating alone. 

"I'd love to see you try." Liam grins bashfully through the half-open door, his head poking from outside. "No touching yourself, Mrs. Darcy. I know you're horny."

"Liam!" I snap. 

"Ti amo." He shuts the door, grinning like an errant boy he is.

"Oh, is it Spanish?" I mumble.

The door bursts open again, startling me. "It's Italian. I love you," Liam says coolly.

I flush. "I love you, too, hubby." 

Alone at last, I take a proper look around the room, finding every trace of my first night in my husband's quarters. The bed is ruffled, a reminder of all the deeds done in it. My sex goddess shrugs innocently, her cheeks as rosy as her night gown. 

Darting my eyes on the floor, I see a few clothes scattered randomly, both Liam's and mine, including the tiny underwear that makes me bend over and pick it. I grin shyly thinking of the artistic hands that tugged it off my thighs some hours ago.

"Hmm, being married is so good," I whisper while collecting everything that's out of place, and decide to fix the entire bedroom while at it. 

It takes me a little moment to make everything presentable, before grabbing my phone and laying on the couch. I lean my head on the armrest, using the pillow for comfort, and slowly begin checking for my messages and emails. As expected, I find plenty, both known and unknown.

Checking the time, it's only seven-forty, which means I can't make a call to Los Angeles at the moment. I'll have to call Sam later, so I send her a message instead. Unable to get ahold of Sam, I decide to look for Roshni who's also in London.

Well, at least I'm not alone, right? I smile at this little consolation. However, Roshni doesn't seem to be online either, and making a regular phone call is impossible without the local network which I can't access. 

Jeez! I need a new sim card.

Failing on the communication subject, I end up unpacking the few clothes I have, puting another mental reminder that I need warm clothes for winter. Apparently L.A knew no cold, thus if it weren't for the heater in this house I'd be in deep trouble right now.

"Well, another problem for you, Mr. Darcy," I mutter, sending my husband a message about this predicament.

It doesn't take long until I get my reply. Very quickly my finger taps on the message, smiling beforehand.

Hubby: Be ready, I'll pick you up in an hour. We shall solve both your phone and winter problems today. Kisses!

"Kisses." I grin ridiculously at this simple word. 

A/N: Another long chapter lol. If you think I should tone a bit, kindly let me know. I tend to go overboard 😂