Malavita (14 page)

But she wasn’t that person any more than Veronica was. Or his father. Or Dom.

He didn’t have a single person in his life who knew the whole truth about him. They all knew only pieces.

And that was the way it had to be. No one could ever know all his secrets. No one but him.

He swallowed hard and stared at her for a long while before he trusted himself to speak. “I want that too,” he said. And he meant it.

He just could never deliver on it. But he’d tell her what he could. “I was thinking about coming down here with my family for the
passeggiata
.”

“Oh.” Her eyes filled with tears and he had to look away. He felt like someone had scraped away every bit of his skin.

Her fingers stroked his hair, and he teetered on the brink of bolting from the car or sinking into her touch. Letting her in was dangerous, so dangerous.

And yet he didn’t move. He let go of the door handle and closed his eyes. Neither of them said anything. She just stroked his hair and he let her, tears hovering beneath his eyelids.

He missed them so much. He missed his father too. The two of them lived in the same house, but almost never spoke. Sometimes Enrico got the sense that his father couldn’t look at him and not see what was missing.
Who
was missing. Primo. Mario. Mamma.

A huge hole had opened up in their lives, and nothing could ever fill it.

He didn’t know how long they sat there, but at some point he relaxed, almost as if he were in a trance. The tears left, the tightness in his throat and chest eased, and he was drifting, at peace.

He opened his eyes and turned his head to look at her. Toni smiled, as if sensing the change in him. “
Grazie
,” he said and took her hand and kissed it.

“Any time.”

“Hungry?” he asked.

“Starving.”

He looked out the windshield. It had grown dark, lights twinkling along the promenade now, the crowds of the
passeggiata
dwindling. “We missed it.”

“We’ll have plenty of others.”

His chest warmed at the thought. He practically bounded out of the car and around to her side, opening the door and offering her a hand out.

This time, he didn’t let go. He didn’t want to. He twined his fingers through hers as they set out along the waterfront. It was shadowy beneath the trees now, and he had the sudden impulse to pull her down on a bench and kiss her.

But that could wait. She’d taken care of him; he ought to return the favor. She was hungry, and it was now his mission to provide her an excellent meal.

There was a new restaurant up ahead, one he’d never been to. She wouldn’t have to worry about him having taken other girls there. He asked if she’d like to try it, and she agreed.

Dinner flew by in a breeze of jokes and teasing, the sort of light, flirty banter he’d have thought himself incapable of when they’d left her home and Carlo behind. Enrico hadn’t felt this happy in a long time. And it was all because of the remarkable girl sitting across from him.

She brushed a thick wave of hair away from her eyes. “Why are you looking at me like that?” she asked.

“Like what?”

She blushed. “I don’t know. You’re just staring.”

He reached across the table and took her hand. “You don’t know how lovely you are, do you?”

“You’ve been with prettier girls, I’m sure.” Her eyes stayed glued to their joined hands and her blush deepened.

“Look at me.” He waited until she did. “Toni, you are the only girl I want to look at.”

Her eyes glistened and her nose reddened. “You mean that?” she asked, her voice thick.

“I do.” He squeezed her fingers and fished out his wallet, leaving the waiter a thick stack of
lire
. “Let me show you how much.”

He escorted her outside, his hand on the small of her back. A cool breeze kicked up off the water, and he draped his jacket over her. When she nestled close to him as they walked, he slid an arm around her. She fit against him perfectly, her head resting easily on his shoulder. As soon as they reached the shadows of the trees, his heartbeat quickened and his eyes sought out a place for maximum privacy.

He soon spotted a bench set back from the path, so well sheltered by the trees that it was cast all in darkness.
Perfetto
.

He didn’t say anything, just pulled her over to the bench and onto his lap. She let out a little huff of protest. “Rico, what—” she said, before he cut her off with his lips, this time letting himself go and kissing her fiercely. The way she was meant to be kissed.

Her mouth opened to his readily, and her hands wound into his hair, tugging him closer as she whimpered.

Ah
Dio
, she was hot in his hands, her lips and tongue working against his, her hips turning in his lap so that she nearly straddled him. He reached down between them and took her knee, breaking the kiss long enough to help her move so that she did in fact straddle him.

Her tight skirt had ridden up, exposing her upper thighs, and he placed his hands on her hips, pulling her up so that the mound of her
figa
was crushed against the bulge of his
cazzo
.

She pulled back. “We shouldn’t,” she whispered.

“I know,” he said, then arched up against her, his
cazzo
straining against the cloth of his trousers. With his right hand, he reached between them and slid his fingers along her inner thigh, until they met the silky fabric of her panties.

She tensed. “Don’t.” He let out a groan of frustration.

“I won’t do anything that won’t leave you a virgin,” he whispered.

She held him around the nape of his neck, the other hand tracing the light growth of stubble along his jaw. “No touching below the waist. Promise?”

He paused. He’d grown so used to Veronica, he’d forgotten how it was at the beginning. Especially for girls. He had to slow down, let her set the pace. “Promise.” Besides, Carlo would have his balls just for holding her like this. But damn it, she was
his
fiancée.

Toni remained alert, her body as tight as a bow. His heart pounded in his chest as if he’d been running, and his mouth was dry. He had to be careful now. He didn’t want to upset her. But he couldn’t take her home just yet. Not without giving her a bit of pleasure to make up for all the pain he’d inflicted.

Slowly, so slowly, Rico kissed Antonella again. She opened up for him, his tongue darting into her mouth. He smelled so good, like evergreens and citrus, with a spicy, masculine scent underneath that she could only think of as
his
scent. Rico’s. She’d know it anywhere now, and she could never seem to get enough.

She broke off the kiss and nuzzled his wavy black hair, her fingers playing with the short strands at the base of his skull, feeling the strong tendons on either side of his spine. He was so hard everywhere against her—every muscle felt like marble, so very different from the softness of her own body, the softness she was used to. Just holding him was thrilling, new.

He slid his hands up her sides until he gripped her just below the breasts, his thumbs rubbing their undersides. Every place he touched felt like it had been dipped in fire, her whole body suddenly so sensitive it was almost overwhelming. She wanted more, but she had to keep her head. Rico had promised, but he was a man, and if she said yes, he probably wouldn’t say no.

But just a little more, a very little more, that would be okay, wouldn’t it? She slid closer to him, once again feeling his hardness between her legs, so tantalizing, but so forbidden. Ever so slightly, she rocked against him, the contact sending shivers along her spine and tightening all her limbs. Her hand trembled where it touched his jaw, and he twisted his neck and kissed the inside of her wrist, his eyes all the while locked on hers. She swore he was mesmerizing her somehow. But she didn’t mind.

Watching her face, he traced the outside of her breasts, staying away from her most sensitive spots. She hadn’t realized how good that light a caress could feel, and she had to stop from twisting her breasts into his palms, craving more of his touch, imagining what his fingers could do if he let himself go. If
she
let herself go.

And then he did something that was almost her undoing. He kissed a path along her jaw, down to her throat, where he lingered, licking her skin and sending sparks all through her. It felt like his mouth, his tongue, was everywhere on her body, even
there
, between her legs. When he bit down gently, she let out a deep moan that startled her, and she inadvertently flexed her hips against him, making both of them groan. A jolt of pleasure raced through her, and she wanted to do it again. Something was happening to her, something she liked, but was afraid of at the same time. If she started again, she might not stop.

She placed her hands on his chest and gently pushed. He looked up, puzzled. “This is… too much,” she said, her voice shaky.

He smiled, a wicked, dazzling smile that she’d never seen before. “I think it’s not enough.”

“Oh Rico,” she murmured. “What am I going to do with you?”

He kissed her cheek. “Everything. When you’re ready.”

“When we’re married.”

He mock-frowned at her, and she chuckled. “This was the last thing I expected to happen tonight.”

“I’ve been thinking about it for a while now.”

She wiggled off him and readjusted her clothing. “You have?”

He wagged a brow at her. “What else do you think comes to mind when a guy is with his girl in the dark?”

“I’m your girl?”

He nodded and rose, wincing a bit and having to adjust his clothing too.

She raised a hand to her mouth. “Did I hurt you?”

“No. I’m just a bit… uncomfortable.”

Would he like it if she touched him? Would that help? She reached out, but he gently pushed her hand away. “Another time.”

“Are you sure?”

A long moment passed before he spoke. “Yes.”

Enrico wanted to take Toni up on her offer so badly he was cursing himself, but now wasn’t the time or place. They’d been lucky no one had happened by. Lingering longer would be unwise, and he didn’t want to wreck the evening.

Besides, he’d promised to be a gentleman. If she touched him,
Dio
knew if he’d be able to keep that promise. Not that he’d ever force her. But he knew he could be damn persuasive. Veronica was a testament to that.

He picked up his jacket from where it had fallen and shook it out, then placed it across her shoulders again before steering them in the direction of the car park.

They’d just come out into the light when a man stopped on the path not far from them and lit a cigarette, the flame highlighting his features.

A shard of ice scraped down Enrico’s back. The man was Guido Ripoli— he was sure of it. Dom had shown him several pictures. Ripoli was from Milan; what was he doing here? Had Carlo sent him to keep an eye on them? Had the man seen what he’d done with Toni?

“Rico?” Toni asked. He hadn’t realized that he’d stopped and gone stiff until she spoke.

“Come on,” he said and started walking, watching Ripoli closely, but he seemed to be unaware of them.

Or maybe he just wanted Enrico to think that.

Barely breathing, Enrico addressed the man as they drew near. “
Buona sera
,
signore
,” he said and nodded.

“
Buona sera
,” the man said with a dip of his chin, but no other sign of notice.

Still, every hair on Enrico’s body stood at attention as they passed by. Given his own recent surveillance of this man’s associates, a darker possibility occurred to him. Perhaps the man’s presence meant something else entirely.

Perhaps Carlo had a job for his killers. A job close to home.

And if that was the case, Enrico had to change his plan. He’d wanted more time, to be sure he was ready. But now he’d have to speed things up and finish at least the first three hits in a little over a week. Something told him Carlo planned to strike at the engagement party, at a time when their guard would be down. But Carlo couldn’t do that if his killers were dead.