by Cora Reilly
Luca’s eyes showed hesitation, then slowly he nodded. “Follow me!” He carried me toward the staircase, but I lost consciousness again.
* * *
I woke in a soft bed, feeling battered and foggy. My eyes peeled open. Gianna lay beside me, sleeping. It was light outside, so several hours must have passed. The bruise on her forehead had grown, but I supposed I looked worse. We were alone and disappointment filled me. I tried to sit up and was rewarded with a fierce throbbing in my shoulder. Glancing down, I found my upper arm and shoulder wrapped with bandages.
Gianna stirred, then she gave me a relieved smile. “You’re awake.”
“Yeah,” I whispered. My mouth felt as if it was filled with cotton.
“Luca has been guarding your bed almost all night, but Matteo forced him to come out and help him with the Russian mobsters they caught.”
“They caught some?”
“Yeah, they’re trying to extract information from them.”
My lips twisted, but I couldn’t bring myself to feel sorry for them. “How are you?”
“Better than you,” Gianna said, then she closed her eyes. “I’m sorry I lashed out at you yesterday. I would have hated myself forever if that had been the last thing I said to you.”
I shook my head. “It’s okay.”
She hopped off the bed. “I better tell Luca you’re awake, or he’ll rip my head off.”
She disappeared and a couple of minutes later, Luca stepped in. He stood in the doorway, his expression unreadable as he let his gaze wander over me. Then he stepped up to the bed and pressed a kiss against my forehead. “Do you need morphine?”
My shoulder felt like it was on fire. “Yeah.”
Luca turned toward the nightstand, picked up a syringe and slid the needle into the crook of my arm. When he was done, he threw the syringe into the trash but didn’t let go of my hand. I linked our fingers. “Did we lose someone?”
“A few. Cesare and a couple soldiers,” he said, then he paused. “And Umberto.”
“I know. I saw him get shot.” My stomach churned violently. It still felt surreal. I’d have to write Umberto’s wife a letter, but I needed a clear head for that.
“What did that guy Vitali mean when he said you had something that belonged to him?”
Luca’s lips thinned. “We intercepted one of their drug deliveries. But that’s not important now.”
“What is important then?”
“That I almost lost you. That I saw you get shot,” Luca said in an odd voice, but his expression gave nothing away. “You’re lucky the bullet only hit your shoulder. The Doc says it’ll heal completely and you’ll be able to use your arm like before.”
I tried a smile, but the morphine was making me sluggish. I blinked, trying to stay awake. Luca leaned down. “Don’t do that ever again.”
“What?” I breathed.
“Taking a bullet for me.”
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
Taking a shower was a struggle. I had to cover my bandages with a waterproof cap, which was a major hassle, but the feel of the warm water washing away the blood and sweat was worth it. Gianna, Lily and Fabi had left less than one hour ago. Father had insisted they leave. Not that they were much safer in Chicago. The Bratva was closing in on the Outfit as well. At least I’d had them with me a day longer than planned. They’d kept me entertained as I lay in bed while Luca had to take care of everything. As Capo he couldn’t abandon his soldiers. He needed to show them he had a plan of action.
I was already feeling so much better. Maybe that was the lingering effect of the painkillers I’d taken two hours ago. I stepped out of the shower and awkwardly put on my panties. I could move both of my arms, but the Doc had said I should use my left arm as little as possible. Putting on the nightgown proved more difficult. I’d managed to slip one strap over my injured shoulder when I stepped back into the bedroom, where I found Luca sitting on the bed. He got up immediately.
“Done with business?” I asked.
He nodded. He came toward me and slid the second strap into place, then he led me toward the bed and made me sit down. We hadn’t been able to talk alone since our first conversation, and then I’d been high on morphine.
“I’m fine,” I said again because he looked like he needed to hear it. He didn’t say anything for a long time before he suddenly knelt before me and pressed his face against my stomach. “I could have lost you two days ago.”
I shivered. “But you didn’t.”
He peered up at me. “Why did you do this? Why did you take a bullet for me?”
“Do you really not know why?” I whispered.
He became very still, but didn’t say anything.
“I love you, Luca.” I knew saying it out loud was a risk, but I’d thought I’d die a couple days ago, so this was nothing.
Luca brought his face up to mine and cupped my cheeks. “You love me.” He said it as if I’d told him the skies were green, or that the sun revolved around the earth, or that fire was cold to the touch. As if what I’d said didn’t make sense, as if it didn’t fit into his view of the world. “You shouldn’t love me, Aria. I’m not someone who should be loved. People fear me, they hate me, they respect me, they admire me, but they don’t love me. I’m a killer. I’m good at killing. Better probably than at anything else, and I don’t regret it. Fuck, sometimes I even enjoy it. That’s a man you want to love?”
“It’s not a matter of want, Luca. It’s not like I could choose to stop loving you.”
He nodded, as if that explained a lot. “And you hate that you love me. I remember you saying it before.”
“No. Not anymore. I know you aren’t a good man. I’ve always known it, and I don’t care. I know I should. I know I should lie awake at night hating myself for being okay with my husband being the boss of one of the most brutal and deadliest crime organizations in the States. But I don’t. What does that make me?” I paused, staring down at my hands, the hands that had cradled a gun two days ago, at the finger that had pulled the trigger without hesitation, without a twitch or tremor. “And I killed a man and I don’t feel sorry. Not one bit. I would do it again.” I glanced up at Luca. “What does that make me, Luca? I’m a killer like you.”
“You did what you had to. He deserved to die.”
“There’s not one of us who doesn’t deserve death. We probably deserve it more than most.”
“You are good, Aria. You are innocent. I forced you into this.”
“You didn’t, Luca. I was born into this world. I chose to stay in this world.” The words of my wedding day popped into my mind. “Being born into our world means being born with blood on your hands. With every breath we take, sin is engraved deeper into our skin.”
“You don’t have a choice. There’s no way to escape our world. You didn’t have a choice in marrying me either. If you’d let that bullet kill me, you would have at least escaped our marriage.”
“There are few good things in our world, Luca, and if you find one you cling to it with all your might. You are one of those good things in my life.”
“I’m not good,” Luca said almost desperately.
“You’re not a good man, no. But you are good for me. I feel safe in your arms. I don’t know why, don’t even know why I love you, but I do, and that won’t change.”
Luca closed his eyes, looking almost resigned. “Love is a risk in our world, and a weakness a Capo can’t afford.”
“I know,” I said even as my throat corded up.
Luca’s eyes shot open, fierce and blazing with emotion. “But I don’t care because loving you is the only pure thing in my life.”
Tears brimmed in my eyes. “You love me?”
“Yes, even if I shouldn’t. If my enemies knew how much you meant to me, they’d do anything to get their hands on you, to hurt me through you, to control me by threatening you. The Bratva will try again, and others will too. When I became a Made Man, I swore to put the Famiglia first, and I reinforced that s
ame oath when I became a Capo dei Capi even though I knew I was lying. My first choice should always be the Famiglia.”
I held my breath, unable to utter a word. The look he gave me almost broke me into pieces.
“But you are my first choice, Aria. I’ll burn down the world if I have to. I’ll kill and maim and blackmail. I’ll do anything for you. Maybe love is a risk, but it’s a risk I’m willing to take and as you said, it’s not a choice. I never thought I would, never thought I could love someone like that, but I fell in love with you. I fought it. It’s the first battle I didn’t mind losing.”
I slung my arms around him, crying, then whimpered from the twinge in my shoulder. Luca pulled back. “You need to rest. Your body needs to heal.”
He made me lie down but I held on to his arms. “I don’t want to rest. I want to make love to you.”
Luca looked pained. “I’m going to hurt you. Your stitches could rip open.”
I trailed my hands down over his chest, his taut stomach until I brushed the bulge in his boxers. “He agrees with me.”
“He always does, but he’s not the voice of reason, believe me.”
I giggled, then winced as pain shot down my arm.
Luca still hovered over me but he shook his head. “That’s what I mean.”
“Please,” I whispered. “I want to make love to you. I’ve wanted this for a long time.”
“I’ve always made love to you, Aria.”
I swallowed, and began stroking Luca’s erection through the thin fabric. He didn’t draw back. “Don’t you want this?”
“Of course I want it. We almost lost each other. I want nothing more than to be as close to you as possible.”
“Then make love to me. Slow and gentle.”
“Slow and gentle,” Luca said in a low voice, and I knew I had him. He moved down to the edge of the bed and began massaging my feet and calves. I opened my legs wide. My nightgown rode up, baring my thin white panties to Luca. His eyes traveled up and I knew he could see how much I wanted and needed this. Luca groaned against my ankle, then trailed his fingers up my leg, only dusting the skin until he brushed my center with his fingertips. My panties stuck to my slick heat. “You make slow and gentle really hard on me. If you weren’t hurt, I’d bury myself in you and make you scream my name.”
“If I wasn’t hurt, I’d want you to do it.”
Luca flicked his tongue across my ankle, then gently sucked the skin into his mouth. “Mine.”
Then he covered my calves and thighs with kisses, saying the word “mine” over and over again as he made his way up toward my center. He slid my panties down, then settled between my legs and kissed my outer lips. “Mine,” he whispered against my heated flesh. I arched and immediately jerked in pain.
“I want you to relax completely. No tensing your muscles, or your shoulder will hurt,” he said, his lips brushing against me as he spoke and making me wet with arousal.
“I always tense up when I come,” I said teasingly. “And I really, really want to come.”
“You will, but no tensing.”
I didn’t say that I thought it was impossible. Luca could probably see it on my face, and his expression said that he accepted the challenge.
I should challenge him more often. As he began to pleasure me with ghost touches and kisses and licks that made my toes curl with need, I felt my muscles loosen and my mind drift into a cocoon of bliss. My quiet moans and the soft sound of Luca’s mouth working my folds mingled with the silence of the room. A knot slowly formed deep in my core, and every brush of Luca’s tongue tightened it, and then deliciously slowly the knot unraveled and my orgasm flowed through my body like honey. I released a long breath as Luca kept my orgasm going for what seemed like forever with feathery touches. I watched him get up through a haze that had nothing to do with painkillers. He slipped out of his boxers as I lay like a boneless heap on the bed. My body was humming as if every cell had been infused with sweet pleasure. He stretched above me, his tip at my entrance. Then he slid into me ever so slowly, stretching me. I let out a long moan when he filled me completely.
“Mine,” he said quietly.
I stared into his eyes as he withdrew inch by inch until only his tip was in me before sliding back in. “Yours,” I whispered.
The path stretching before us was one of darkness, a life of blood and death and danger, a future of always watching my back, of knowing every day could be Luca’s last, of fearing that one day I might have to watch him receive a lethal injection. But this was my world and Luca was my man, and I would go this path with him until the bitter end.
As he made love to me, I touched my hand to the tattoo over his heart, felt his heart beating against my palm. I smiled. “Mine.”
“Always,” Luca said.
BOUND BY DUTY
(Born in Blood Mafia Chronicles, #2)
PROLOGUE
“Don’t turn your back on me. Look at me. I think I deserve at least that small decency, Dante.”
Tension radiated off of him when he turned to face me. He didn’t move closer, but he was looking at me. For once, he didn’t pretend I was invisible. His blue eyes wandered over my exposed body.
My nipples hardened in the cool air of his office but I didn’t close my silk bathrobe, despite the overwhelming urge to cover myself against Dante’s cold scrutiny. His gaze lingered on the apex of my thighs slightly longer than the rest of my body, and a small burst of hope filled me. “Am I your wife?”
His blond brows drew together. “Of course you are.” There was the hint of something I couldn’t place in his voice.
“Then claim your rights, Dante. Make me yours.”
He didn’t move, but his eyes slid down to my erect nipples. His gaze was almost physical, like a ghost touch on my naked skin.
I wasn’t above begging. I knew I almost had him. I wanted to have sex tonight. “I have needs too. Would you prefer if I found a lover who relieved you of the burden to touch me?” I wasn’t sure I could go through with it. No, I knew I couldn’t go through with it, but this act of provocation was my last option. If Dante didn’t react to this, then I didn’t know what else to do.
“No,” he said sharply, something angry and possessive breaking through his perfect mask. He pressed his lips together, jaw locked, and walked toward me. I shivered with need and excitement when he stopped in front of me. He didn’t reach for me, but I thought I detected the hint of desire in his eyes. It wasn’t much, but enough to embolden me. I bridged the remaining distance between us and curled my fingers over his strong shoulders, pressing my naked body against his front. The rough material of his business suit rubbed deliciously against my sensitive nipples, and I let out a small moan. The pressure between my legs was almost unbearable. Dante’s eyes flashed as he looked down at me. Slowly he wrapped an arm around me and rested his palm flat against my lower back.
Triumph flooded me. He wasn’t ignoring me now.
CHAPTER ONE
Of course, I’d known it would happen. My father had made his standpoint clear the moment my first husband Antonio had been buried. I was too young to stay unmarried. But I hadn’t expected my father to find a new husband for me so quickly, and I definitely hadn’t expected my new husband to be Dante—the Boss—Cavallaro.
Antonio’s funeral had taken place only nine months ago, which made my new engagement teeter on the brink of inappropriateness. My mother was usually among the first to pounce on anyone who committed a social faux pas, and yet she couldn’t see anything wrong with the fact that today, less than a year after saying good-bye to Antonio, I was going to meet my next husband. I’d never loved Antonio as a woman loved a man, even if I’d believed I had at one time, and our marriage had never been real, but I’d hoped for more time before I was forced into another union—especially as I didn’t even get to choose for myself this time.
“You are so lucky Dante Cavallaro agreed to marry you. It came as a surprise for many that he decided to take a woman who ha
s already been married. He could have chosen from a line of eager young women, after all,” my mother said as she brushed my dark-brown hair. She didn’t mean to hurt my feelings; she was only stating the obvious. I knew it was true. Everyone did.
A man in Dante’s position didn’t have to content himself with the leftovers of another, a lesser man. That’s what most people probably thought, and yet I was supposed to marry him. I, who didn’t even want to marry someone as powerful and cunning as Dante Cavallaro. I, who wished to stay alone, if only to protect Antonio’s secret. How was I supposed to keep up the lie? Dante was known as a man who could always tell when someone was lying.
“He’ll be the Boss of the Outfit in two months, and when you marry him you’ll be the most influential woman in Chicago and the Midwest. And if you keep up your good friendship with Aria, you’ll have connections to New York as well.”
As usual my mother was way ahead, already planning world domination, while I was still trying to wrap my mind around the fact that I was supposed to marry the Boss. This was too dangerous. I wasn’t a bad liar. In the years of my marriage to Antonio I’d improved my skills continuously, but there was a big difference between lying to the outside world and lying to your husband. Anger toward Antonio resurfaced as it had so often in the past months. He’d forced me into this situation.
Mamma stepped back, admiring her work. My dark hair fell in soft glossy curls over my shoulders and back. I pushed to my feet. For the occasion, I’d chosen a cream-colored pencil skirt and a plum blouse that was tucked into my waistband, as well as modest black heels. I was one of the tallest women in the Outfit at five foot eight, and naturally my mother worried Dante would be put off if I wore high heels. I didn’t bother to point out that Dante was still at least five inches taller than me; I wouldn’t have been taller than him even with heels. And this wouldn’t be the first time he saw me anyway. We’d met a couple of times at mafia functions and had even shared a brief dance at Aria’s wedding in August three months ago. Still we’d never exchanged more than the expected pleasantries, and I’d certainly never gotten the impression that Dante was even remotely interested in me. But he was known for being closed off, so who knew what was really going on in that head of his?