I turned around and reached for the pillows I had thrown earlier to the other side of the bed, but Hugo was quicker. He grabbed them first and tossed them all to the floor as if clearing obstacles from a battlefield.
"Hugo!" I cried, almost desperate.
"That neutral zone ruins the aesthetic of our bed. Besides, it’s our wedding night. Who says the husband has to sleep in a demilitarized zone?"
"I do!" I cut in quickly.
He chuckled softly. "Sweetheart, you can’t make unilateral rules. This is a marriage, not a UN meeting."
I sighed, trying not to laugh, though I really wanted to.
Hugo rolled closer, his face now just inches away from mine. "I only ask for one thing," he whispered, his gaze anything but neutral.
I straightened up. "If you say 'one kiss' or 'one hug', I’ll throw a hanger at you."
He chuckled, raising both hands in surrender. "Okay, okay. I just want one corner of the blanket. The right one, for my left hand."
I eyed him suspiciously. "That’s a trap."
Hugo raised three fing
