Farrell finished his drink and contemplated protesting as Nico tried to pour him another one. He decided against it and settled into the chair in the courtyard, relishing the warmth of the outdoor fireplace and the patio heaters, the distant hum of Rome, the companionship of the men around him.

One more. He would have one more drink, then he would join Jenna upstairs.

They’d had a wonderful day in Rome the day before, visiting the zoo and the Trevi fountain, stopping for pizza and gelato along the way.

They’d followed it up with a low-key day at the villa, cooking and watching movies and letting the girls talk them into a swim in the pool even when they had to wear coats to supervise them.

It was a rare opportunity to try out the dynamic of the ruling families of the Syndicate, and Farrell had been pleased to find that everything worked. The children adored each other and the women planned a shopping trip and discussed their various lines of work and charitable foundations.

It had been an easy, companionable two days, except for the strange resentment emanating from Jenna.

It wasn’t entirely new. If he were being honest with himself, an indecipherable brand of tension had been brewing between them since they’d arrived in Rome. Their day in the city had done little to ease his mind.

Was Jenna having second thoughts about the life she’d chosen with him? The life she’d chosen for Lily?

Maybe being around the Syndicate families so intimately, so totally, had driven home their connection in a more concrete way.

Up until now, she’d been fairly isolated by their lives in London and Tuscany. It might have been easy to imagine Farrell was a businessman who traveled a lot, one who could afford to take her on beautiful vacations and fund a lavish lifestyle because of stock trades or international business mergers.

They’d made a point to keep business out of the conversation for the holiday, but the holiday would be irrefutable proof of their connection to Nico and the other Syndicate leaders and their families.

“What’s the plan for tomorrow?” Luca asked, breaking into Farrell’s thoughts.

“We pay visits to the leaders of the most powerful families in Athens,” Nico said.

“All of them?” Christophe asked.

“It’s not as daunting as it may seem,” Farrell said.

Since the death of Stefano Anastos, the Greek territory had been overrun by small-time players who fancied themselves mob bosses, but there were only a handful of real players, men who needed to be reminded they were allowed to operate in the Athens territory only because the Syndicate allowed it.

“Farrell’s right,” Luca said. “There are only a few bosses with any real power.”

“Five, to be exact,” Nico said. “Easily reachable in a day, especially if we split up. I’ve arranged for two cars for that purpose. We’ll go in teams.”

“What time do we leave?” Farrell asked.

“Seven,” Nico said. “With any luck, we’ll be back in time for dinner.”

Farrell finished his drinks and stood. “Then it’s time for me to call it a night.”

He wasn’t at all worried about sleep. He’d spent his life pushing his limits, forcing himself to perform on less food, less sleep, than any of his rivals.

But he wanted to see Jenna before she fell asleep, not only to tell her about Greece but to strip off her clothes, to bury his fingers and mouth and body in her silky flesh until she screamed with pleasure.

They exchanged goodnights and Farrell stepped into the house and headed up the stairs. He was suddenly annoyed with himself for not telling Jenna about Greece earlier. What the fuck was wrong with him? Why was he springing it on her the night before? Was he trying to piss her off? Trying to see how far he could push her before she pushed back?

He shook his head as he started down the hall. He was being a bloody wanker and he wasn’t even sure why.

He was uncharacteristically off-balance, the ring burning a hole in the pocket of every jacket he owned. He had no problem making Jenna his in bed every night, owning her body like an occupying force, giving himself over to her pleasure and then taking his until they were both wrung out.

And yet he couldn’t get the fucking proposal out of his mouth.

He wanted Jenna to be his wife with a single-minded desire that was making him stupid, but he was running out of time, both the impending holiday and the increasing tension between them like a clock ticking under the proposal.

Tomorrow they would go to Athens, and the next day was Christmas Eve. He needed to make his move. He and Jenna would survive, even if she wasn’t ready for marriage.

Luca and Isabel were getting along fine without marriage. They seemed perfectly content, and if Luca was disappointed by Isabel’s refusal to make it official, it didn’t show in their relationship.

Nico was right: there were plenty of legitimate reasons someone might want to hold off on marriage that had nothing to do with love.

He stepped quietly into the room he shared with Jenna, not wanting to startle her if she’d decided to go to sleep. He would still wake her — but not by scaring the shit out of her.

If he were going to wake her, it would be by stroking the soft skin of her bare arm, by leaving tender kisses on her cheek, letting his hand travel the length of her body until she responded, arching into his hand, moving her warm body toward his.

He was hard just thinking about it.

The light was on, Jenna sitting in bed with her laptop, her glasses making her look both adorable and sexy.

“You’re up,” he said, closing the door behind him.

She glanced at him before returning her eyes to the screen. “I thought I’d go over the foundation’s financials.”

“How’s it looking?” he asked, slipping off his shoes and sitting on the edge of the bed.

“Not bad,” she said. “I’d like some more money for the Bridge Project, but I can work on that after the holidays.”

“Tell me how much you need,” he said. “I’ll write you a check when we get back.”

She looked up at him, her eyes flashing. “You don’t think I can raise it myself?”

He’d bankrolled the foundation in the beginning, but Jenna had increasingly been seeking outside donors, trying to grow the visibility of the foundation and its public relations footprint.

She was good at it, and he’d watched with pride as she’d grown it into a significant force for good in the nonprofit sector.

“I have no doubt you can raise every cent yourself,” he said.

“Then why offer?” she asked.

“To be helpful,” he said. “You collect donations from private donors and from corporations. I happen to be a private donor. I also happen to have two large, legitimate corporations. That’s all.”

“It’s not the same,” she said, closing the laptop and setting it on the nightstand.

“I understand,” he said. “The offer is there if you change your mind.”

“Thank you.”

She said it grudgingly, and he cursed himself for stepping on a minefield he hadn’t known was there. While he was at it, he cursed himself for the minefield he was about to step on — the one he’d created himself by not telling her sooner about Greece.

He reached out and put a hand on her calf. “I have to go to Greece tomorrow.”

“I know.” She slid out from under his hand and crossed the room to the carafe of water on the table near the terrace.

He turned to look at her as she poured water into a glass.

“You know?”

She took a drink. “Angel told me at the zoo yesterday.”

Fuck him. No wonder she was pissed.

He stood, made his way to her, and put his hands on her shoulders. “I’m sorry. I should have told you sooner.”

She set down the glass and shrugged him off, then walked to the nightstand. Her movements were jerky, almost manic, and he watched as she uncapped her lotion and rubbed some into her hands.

“Why didn’t you?”

“Fuck… I don’t know. Maybe I thought you’d be mad,” he said.

“Have I ever been mad when you’ve had to travel?” she asked, crossing her arms over her chest.

“No,” he said.

“Then why would I be mad now?”

“I don’t know,” he said. “Why are you?”

His own anger was rising like a kettle about to whistle. He stuffed it down. He and Jenna didn’t fight.

Well, they rarely fought, and when they did fight, it was quickly resolved, followed by frenzied make-up sex that obliterated everything but their love for each other.

“Maybe I don’t like it when you keep things from me,” she said.

Her cheeks were flushed, her chest rising and falling with anger. He had to resist the urge to stalk across the room and tear off her clothes, kiss her until she was quivering for him, until she was begging him to take her.

He drew in a breath. “I’ve apologized for not telling you sooner. I should have. We’ll only be gone for the day.”

She turned her head to avoid looking at him. “So you’ve said.”

He suddenly felt the distance between them as greater than the number of feet separating them in the room. He thought back, trying to remember when it had gone wrong.

Had he been in denial all this time, thinking they were happy? Was the ring and the proposal, his rose-colored vision of Jenna as his wife, a fantasy he was indulging to stave off the truth?

He didn’t think so.

They’d been fine when they left Tuscany.

Better than fine.

It had only been in the past few days that there had been a shift. That the unsettling tension had risen between them like a current, pulling them into the depths of resentment that seemed to have no source and no solution.

He walked toward her and stopped when he was only a couple inches away. He could feel the heat off her skin, could smell the musky undercurrent of her body under the lavender lotion she’d applied to her hands.

He reached up, took her chin in his hands, forced her to look at him. The light in her eyes was unfamiliar — a mixture of anger and sadness and something else he couldn’t quite define.

“Why are you so angry, love?”

He asked the question softly, fighting the feeling that he might spook her if he said the wrong thing.

She held his gaze for a long moment before her eyes skittered away. “I don’t know.”

She sounded so sorrowful, so defeated. The familiar protective instinct rose in him, the desire to protect her from anything remotely unpleasant, to surround her only with beauty and joy and love.

He pulled her into his arms. “Jenna… Jenna…” She lay her head against him and he breathed her in. “I love you. You know that, don’t you?”

She nodded against his chest. “I’m sorry.”

He pulled back to look at her. “Sorry? For what?”

“I don’t know,” she said. “I don’t know why I’m acting this way. It’s atrocious.”

He shook his head, smoothed the hair back from her head. “Never,” he said. “You’re under a lot of stress, and I haven’t helped the situation by being such a tosser.”

She laughed a little and shook her head. “You’re not a tosser.”

Tears shone in the corners of her eyes. He reached up, touched her face. “I should have told you about Greece. I’m sorry. I’ll miss spending the day with you and Lily.”

She shook her head. “It’s all right. Angel’s gotten her nanny for the day. We’re going shopping.”

He smiled. “Good. You deserve some time to yourself.”

She nodded, a small smile playing at her lips. “Especially with such a tosser around.”

He laughed and scooped her into his arms. She squealed as he threw her onto the bed.

“You wouldn’t have me any other way and you know it,” he said, stripping off his clothes.

Her eyes strayed to his cock, asserting its presence between his legs as he looked down at her on the bed.

“You’re right.” She spread her legs. “Now are you going to use that thing or what?”

He growled and pounced on the bed, covering her body with his as she laughed. There was no more talking as he lowered his head to hers, swept her mouth into a kiss that eliminated all his doubt and fear.