CHAPTER 18
Soon after Enrico left, Antonio strolled into the solarium, a machine gun hanging from his shoulder. Kate looked up from the papers she was transcribing, her eyes zeroing in on the weapon. Jesus, this was serious. None of the guards had ever carried a large gun inside. When Antonio saw her alarm, he said, “Do not worry, signora. The house is safe. This is….” He patted the gun, apparently not knowing the word he wanted. “It is for caution,” he finally said.
“You mean the gun is a precaution?” He nodded. She eyed the weapon, then looked out the window. In the fading light, she saw that Claudio and Santino, heavy guns slung over their shoulders, had taken positions in the garden on either side of the solarium. So much firepower, all for her.
“Is Enrico in a lot of danger?”
“Some.” He paused. “He does not have to go, but he does.”
“What do you mean?”
“He cares for his people. More than most men in his position.” She heard pride in his voice.
“You feel great loyalty to him.”
Antonio nodded. “He feels it to me, to all of us. I will do anything he asks of me.”
“Including taking a bullet for me?”
“Sì.”
“Just because he asked?”
He nodded. Then his face changed and he looked uncomfortable. “Signora, I am deeply ashamed of my behavior earlier. I was not here when your husband—”
She cut him off. “You don’t need to apologize. It wasn’t your fault.”
“I should have been here, signora. I will not neglect my duty again.”
She was about to say something in response, but he turned away, taking a post outside the open door.
Kate set her laptop aside, mulling over what Antonio had said. It was clear he admired and loved Enrico. Her own feelings weren’t so simple.
Stroking her thumb across her lower lip, she relived that last kiss. She’d surprised herself by initiating it, by saying she’d stay. She hadn’t wanted Enrico to leave without knowing… what? That she wanted him? That she would be his? Well, maybe someday. If she thought Enrico could truly love her. If she thought he could put her first in his heart….
She let out a hiss. This was madness. He was keeping things from her. And he was a dangerous man to know. Or maybe she was the dangerous one and he ought to steer clear of her. She smiled. She’d certainly trailed her problems along with her when she’d come to his home. But he hadn’t complained. And he hadn’t shied away from the danger.
Even so, some piece of all this was missing, and she needed to know it before she could commit herself in any way. She could not be nearly as trusting as Antonio.
She picked up the papers and her laptop again, trying in vain to concentrate, but she kept losing her place. Was Enrico all right? How would she feel if he wasn’t?
She didn’t know how long she’d been lost in her thoughts when Antonio’s cell phone rang. After exchanging a few clipped words with someone, he stepped back into the room. “Signor Lucchesi is returning. All is well.”
She smiled. “Thank God he’s all right.” Her hand flew to her mouth, and Antonio returned the smile.
“Sì, signora.”
The papers slipped from her lap onto the floor, and she reached down for them, her belly doing a slow roll. Enrico was okay, and she was more happy about that than she’d expected.
And on top of that, her first instinct wasn’t to run away. Far from it.
Every cell in her body was telling her to stay.
When Enrico returned, Kate was waiting for him in the study with two glasses of sambuca already poured. As he walked in the door, she looked up at him, her eyes full of warmth, and something more. “All hail the conquering hero,” she said, her voice teasing.
He smiled, his heavy heart suddenly feeling as light as her voice. He hadn’t expected this. He’d been prepared for her to be worried, angry even. Something had changed, but he didn’t know what. Lingering in the doorway, he stared as she rose from the sofa. What a sight, this woman he loved. Her auburn hair gleamed in the lamplight, her skin, white like cream. And those eyes….
Not to mention the rest of her. She’d changed into a dark green dress that clung to her in all the right places. The fullness of her hips and breasts made her look like ripe fruit.
Fruit he couldn’t wait to taste.
If she’d let him. The kiss she’d given him before he’d left, the look in her eyes now, hinted that there was hope.
He watched as she carried the sambuca to him, mesmerized by the sway of her hips, the bounce of her breasts, the movements of her delicate wrists and ankles. She handed him the glass, lightly beaded with condensation. He heard the chink of ice, the ring of the crystal as their glasses came together. “Salute,” she said, then raised her glass to her lips.
He did the same, tasting the liquor, inhaling its heady scent. So sweet, just like her. “Close the door,” she said. He pushed it shut, a thrill coursing through him, then followed her to the sofa. He sat down, wondering where this was going, not really caring as long as it was going somewhere.
Kate was still standing. “Give me your jacket.” He shrugged it off and handed it to her. She started to fold it to set it aside, when she noticed the blood on the sleeve. “You’re hurt,” she said, her voice rising as she looked at him, seeking the source of the injury.
He pointed to the bandaged wound on his left arm. “It’s nothing.”
“What happened?”
“I was visiting one of my men in the hospital. Carlo’s men ambushed us when we left.”
She raised a hand to her mouth, covering her gasp. “Was anyone hurt?”
He frowned, looking down at the carpet. “Pino’s dead.”
“Oh my God!”
He stood up and took her in his arms. “I have settled things with Carlo. We are safe.”
“Are you sure?”
“I think so.” He motioned toward the sofa and they sat down. “Do you mind if we do not talk about it right now? I would like to think about something else for a while.” His heart ached anew. What would she say when he told her he’d accepted Delfina?
He took her hand, seeing that she was still shaken. For a moment, he almost gave in to the sorrow threatening to overwhelm him, but he fought against it. He’d had too much heartache for one day. Hoping to return to the lighter mood of just moments ago, he motioned to her dress, their drinks. “So what is all this, Kate? You were happy when I walked in.”
She looked away from him. “I was thinking… oh, never mind.”
“You were thinking about what?”
“You and me. Us.” She shyly met his gaze.
He made his tone playful. “And what were you thinking about us?”
She blushed, color staining her cheeks. “It’s not the right time, I know, but I was thinking….” She took a breath before stumbling on. “We haven’t, you know, since the attack.”
“Ah.” He smiled, his heart beating at a fast clip. He leaned toward her. “Were you thinking we should?”
She nodded, the red of her cheeks deepening, spreading to her throat. “I was.”
“After you kissed me, you were all I could think about in the car.”
She looked up at him then. He didn’t hesitate. He took her face in both hands and brushed his lips against hers, feeling their plump softness. She gave a little whimper and threaded her fingers through his hair, her mouth opening under his. He licked the bottom edge of her top lip, pleased when her tongue finally reached out to his. Her touch was unsure, shy, but increasingly bold as they continued to kiss. This Kate, this demure creature, was new to him, and he wondered at the change in her. Once again, he wished he’d killed Vincenzo Andretti the first time they’d met.
They parted after some minutes, both breathing hard. Her hair had fallen into her face, and he pushed it back, so he could look at her. “What brought this on?” he murmured, amused and deeply happy.
She smiled and looked straight into his eyes. “I realized I don’t want to go home.” She said it lightly, softly, but he could see the depth of emotion behind it. It wasn’t “I love you,” but in a way, it was much, much more.
“I am glad to hear you say that, cara.” Perhaps, at last, he’d whittled a hole in her armor.
Kate’s smile widened at the endearment. Cara. She liked the sound of it, his voice husky and sweet when he spoke.
His eyes moved down to her lips. She lay back against the cushions and he moved over her, pressing the length of his body against hers. He kissed her harder this time, his touch more urgent, and she could feel the bulge of his erection pushing into her hip. He was too close, too heavy, too large. Her breath caught, and an unfamiliar wave of anxiety crashed through her, making her heart thrash against her ribs like a bird trying to escape a cage. Panting, she pushed on his chest, needing space.
“Kate, what is wrong?” He shifted so he was sitting on the coffee table in front of the couch.
She sat up and shook her head. “I don’t know. I just felt… crushed.”
“We don’t have to do this now. It’s enough to know you want to. When you’re ready.”
Her eyes grew hot with tears. Vince wasn’t going to win, he wasn’t going to haunt her. “I am ready.” She forced the words out, forced her voice to be steady.
“You don’t look it.” He leaned forward and took her hands in his.
“Just… go slow.”
“Cara.” He turned one of her hands up, kissing the palm, sending a tingle across her skin. He took her face in his hands again, his thumbs stroking her cheeks, his eyes locked onto hers. His lips hovered over her mouth for a moment, then he feathered delicate kisses along its length, like a butterfly fluttering over a bloom. When she let out a sigh of pleasure, he put a few millimeters between them, his warm breath washing over her skin when he spoke. “You are certain?”
She nodded, not able to say it. It wasn’t just the roiling in her gut that stole her voice. Her desire for him meant so much more to her now, and she was afraid he’d hear it if she spoke, that he’d know the power he had over her. That he would know how badly he could hurt her.
And yet, what had she been doing but trying to seduce him since he’d walked into the room? And then pushing him away. What a mess she was. But he was looking at her like she was the greatest thing in the world. More precious than gold. Warmth bubbled up in her chest and she took a deep breath. It was going to be okay. She was with Enrico, and he would never hurt her. That she knew with certainty, a certainty she rarely felt about anything. But she felt certain about this man.
Enrico waited until he saw the change in her, the tightness around her eyes and mouth receding, her shoulders coming down, her breathing slowing to normal. He wasn’t surprised she was struggling, but he could go as slow as she needed to. He could spend hours just kissing her and doing nothing else. Now that he knew she wanted him, that she wanted to stay, they had all the time in the world.
Slowly, carefully, he kissed his way down her neck, licking the notch at the base of her throat, mouthing the end of her collarbone. She tasted like vanilla and honey. His fingers traced where his tongue had tasted her, and he remembered the last time he’d touched her, by the pool, the way he had ached then to kiss her, to hold her, to have her. He could hardly believe his good fortune now. She wanted him again. The way he wanted her.
He pulled down the neckline of her dress, kissing the top of one breast, then the other. He smiled at the light dusting of freckles; other than a few on her nose and cheeks, it was the only visible reminder of their afternoon at the pool. His hands looked so dark against her pale skin. He liked the contrast, so different from any other woman he’d ever known.
He returned to her lips for a moment, checking in. This time she kissed him back and moaned a little. Encouraged, he pushed the straps of her bra off her shoulders, freeing her breasts from the cups. They fit nicely in his hands, the areolas a delicate pink around the nipples. He massaged her breasts lightly, watching her face. The bite on her left breast was healing, but it wasn’t gone entirely. Very carefully, he kissed the mark. When she smiled at him, he returned it, relieved.
He circled his fingers over her breasts, but avoided her nipples, watching as they stiffened, expectant. Finally he took one in his mouth, then the other, swirling his tongue around each one, sucking on it until she moaned and clutched his shoulders. The sound made his cock jump and his heart soar. He moved farther down her body, pushing the light fabric of her dress up her thighs to her waist, exposing pale pink panties that clung to her cleft like a second skin.
He peeled them off, tossing the nearly translucent cloth to the floor. He’d wanted to tear them off, but he didn’t want to remind her of Vincenzo. He loved her, and he was going to show her how much. He ran his hands down the insides of her thighs in teasing strokes, edging toward his goal. Then he fanned one hand over her sex, massaging it lightly, his fingers caressing the lips of it, then slipping between them to the wetness inside. When he touched her, she drew in a breath, and he looked up into her eyes, waiting for her to smile again before he continued.
As his thumb slowly circled her clit, Kate closed her eyes and bit her lip to keep from crying out, to keep from telling him she wanted more, more, more. But he knew by now what she liked.
She felt him shift forward onto his knees and then his mouth was between her legs. She gasped at the contact and closed her legs a bit. It was too much, this pleasure. Enrico planted a hand on the inside of each thigh and pressed them open, giving him full access to her. As his tongue moved on her pussy, she flushed all over, heat rising in her face, her chest. This was madness. And heaven. What a shameless, wanton hussy she was, raising her hips to meet his mouth, then pulling his head closer to her. He slipped two fingers inside her, moving them in and out in rhythm with his tongue, his fingers sliding easily in her slick wetness. She came suddenly, the explosion of sensation surprising her into a throaty cry.
He planted a kiss just above the mound of her sex, then stood and pulled off his shirt, the muscles in his arms, chest, and stomach flexing in the most appealing way as he grinned at her. Then he kicked off his shoes and started removing his pants. She lay slumped against the back of the couch, her legs splayed open, a bit dazed, enjoying the tanned, well-muscled body he revealed to her, until he said, “You are wearing entirely too much.”
Kate smiled and rose, skinning off the dress and unhooking the bra. As she stepped out of her heels, he sat down on the coffee table and pulled her to him, his face level with her breasts. He suckled them again, his hands cupping her ass as she ran her hands through his thick black hair. Then he sat her down on his knees. She reached between their legs, circling her fingers around him, giving his cock an experimental stroke. She loved the heft of it, a little longer and thicker than she could easily take, but she was ready for him. He groaned when her fingers traced the vein that ran along the underside of his cock, then he cupped his hands behind her buttocks and urged her forward. She held his eyes as she guided him into her. “Madonna,” he whispered as she opened to him.
“‘Whore’ is probably more appropriate,” she teased.
He stopped moving and took hold of her chin so that she had to look at him. “Never say that again. I never want to hear that word applied to you, do you hear me?” His intensity surprised her. What was that about? He kissed her, then let go of her chin. His lips trailed down to her neck as he started thrusting inside her. “Not my woman, not my wife,” he murmured, and her eyes popped open. Wife? She looked at him, wondering if he’d confused her with Antonella. His eyes were closed, and he seemed lost in the sensation of their lovemaking. Which, considering how good it felt, was no surprise.
She filed that comment away for later and wrapped her legs around his waist, letting him in deeper. He responded by moving faster, his hands tilting her pelvis up a bit more, his fingers pressing into her buttocks as he forced her to open wider. His breathing was ragged in her ear, and she bit down on his shoulder as she came again. He groaned and his strokes sped up, his hands moving to her hips so he could lift her up and down, so he could make his thrusts more forceful. Thank God he’d stopped treating her like a china doll.
Remembering the sweet torture she could inflict on him, she clamped her internal muscles around him hard several times in succession. He stiffened and cried out. After he caught his breath, he kissed her again. Then he pulled back so he could look at her, a grin on his face. “I cannot hold off when you do that.”
His brown eyes seemed almost black as they scanned her face. She reached up and traced his brows, then his cheekbones. “Thank you for this,” she whispered.
“I should be thanking you.” His grin widened. “At least we are not apologizing to each other anymore.”
She looked at him for a moment more, wanting to ask about what he’d said earlier, but not sure how, or if she should. She stood up, but he pulled her back down onto his lap. “What’s wrong?” he asked.
“What did you mean when you said, ‘Not my wife’?”
Color rose to his cheeks. “That was… a mistake. I want you to be my wife, but….” His voice trailed off.
Did he just say he wanted to marry her? “But what?”
He pulled her closer. “I do not know how to say this.”
Kate’s heart sped up. She wasn’t going to like this. “Just say it,” she whispered, placing her head on his chest.
His voice was low and unsteady. “Part of the agreement with Carlo is that I have to marry his granddaughter, Delfina.”
Her body went cold, then numb. Oh God. So that was what he and Dom had been discussing when she’d spied on them that first night. She wished she’d trusted in her Italian. She was a fool.
“Kate, look at me.” He nudged her chin up, and when she opened her eyes, she was horrified to see her vision blurred with tears. “I am so sorry. I want to marry you, not her. But I have to keep you safe.”
She sniffed hard, trying to hold back her tears. “It’s okay.” But it wasn’t.
“No, it is not. Not now, not when I know you have feelings for me.”
She shrugged. “It doesn’t matter. You’re still in love with your wife anyway. It’s not like there’s room for anyone else.”
“That is not true.”
“It is, Enrico. You still can’t take off your ring, can you?”
Enrico raised his left hand and looked at his wedding band. Madonna. Until he’d seen Dario, he hadn’t thought much about Toni the last few days. He’d been so focused on Kate, on what had been happening with Carlo, that he’d almost forgotten his grief. “I can do it now.” He pulled off the ring and set it on the table. His hand felt strange, lighter, without it. Strange, but all right. He looked at Kate. “I want to be with you. I want to be your husband.”
Kate shoved back from him and retreated to the sofa. “You have a funny way of showing it. You’re marrying someone else!”
“I will not marry her. I do not love her.”
“You should marry her.”
“What?” He could barely form the word, he was so confused.
Her eyes blazed. “You might as well. Marriage is just a business deal to you. How can you possibly make love to me right after getting engaged to another woman? You’re using that poor girl like a bargaining chip. What is wrong with you?”
“I will not do it.”
“So you’re going to let Carlo kill us both then? Over what: your heart?”
Enrico stared at her openmouthed, appalled, his gut twisting. “Does this not matter to you?”
“Of course it does!” Her eyes filled with tears.
“I do not understand you. First you do not want me to marry her, then you do.”
“I don’t understand you. How can you be so cavalier about this? Who you marry should matter to you.”
“It does. And I want it to be you.” How could he make her understand? Delfina meant nothing; Kate meant everything.
Kate stared at him, her chest tight. “You don’t know what love is.” He may have removed the ring, but it didn’t mean anything. He still loved Antonella. He had to. It was the only palatable explanation for how he was acting. There was no room for her in his heart as long as Antonella still filled it.
She looked away from him, wiping her eyes. “I want to go home.”
“You cannot leave. You do not have a passport.”
“You were going to figure that out earlier today. You said I could leave if I wanted to.”
“I have changed my mind.”
Kate clenched her hands into fists. Bastard. “You can’t do that.”
“I can and I will. You will wait until Fuente clears you. And in the meantime, we are going to Capri, as planned.”
“No.”
He leaned forward and put his hands on her shoulders. “I cannot let you go. Not just yet.”
The rawness, the almost pleading note, in his voice made her soften. “Are you going to marry her?”
“No.” He held her gaze. “I want you.”
His behavior didn’t add up. Unless…. She frowned, her stomach contracting into a ball. “So if you married her, you were planning what? To make me your mistress?”
His eyes slid away from hers. “Something like that. If you would agree to it.”
A wave of heat blasted through her. Who did he think she was? “And have Carlo Andretti call me a whore at every opportunity? No thanks.”
He touched her cheek, and she slapped his hand away. “Don’t touch me.”
“Cara—”
“Don’t call me that either.”
He took a deep breath. “I am not going to marry her. I made a mistake in ever agreeing to it. I thought it was the right thing to do, that it would bring peace.” He paused. “And I was not sure of your heart.” He took one of her hands in both of his. “Will you please allow me to make amends to you?”
There was a certain logic to what he said; she might be wrong about how he felt. There might be hope after all. “I’ll go to Capri. But I’m not promising anything.”
He smiled, his relief evident. “I will make it up to you. You will see how much I love you.”
When she processed what he had said, a barrage of emotions rocketed through her. “You love me?”
“Of course I love you, Kate. Why else would I want to marry you?” He seemed puzzled by her reaction.
She smirked, not wanting to let him know how shaken she was. “Well, it certainly isn’t to save your neck, now is it?”
“That is unfair.”
“It’s the truth. It’s the reason you married Antonella, and it’s the reason you were going to marry Delfina.” He said nothing. “Fair enough?”
He nodded. “Fair enough.”
Enrico watched Kate dress. Her back was turned to him, and he wasn’t sure where he stood with her. She’d whipsawed back and forth so many times in the space of a few minutes. He’d told her he loved her, and her reaction had been anger. Anger to cover her hurt. Hurt he had caused with his bumbling. Why hadn’t he told her sooner? Why hadn’t he told her about Delfina before they’d made love?
Had he ruined everything between them, just when it seemed he’d finally won her?
At least she was going to Capri with him. At least she was giving him a chance. Though the odds were more against him now than they’d ever been.
And he still hadn’t told her who he was.
He desperately needed to talk to Don Battista.
For the first time in his life, he felt truly lost.