Born in Blood Collection Volume 1: Collection of books 1-4

by Cora Reilly

  That wasn’t much of a comfort. I hoped Dante would be concerned about my needs too.

  * * *

  When January 5th, my wedding day, finally rolled around, I felt a flicker of nervousness—and not only because of my wedding night. I knew this was my second chance at a happy marriage. Most people in our world didn’t get that. They lived their lives in miserable unions until death finally separated them.

  As I walked down the aisle in my cream sequined dress, I felt more hopeful than I had in a long time. Dante looked sophisticated in his black suit and vest. His eyes never left me, and as my father handed me over to him, I was sure I saw a hint of approval and appreciation in my new husband’s expression. His hand was warm around mine, and the small smile he gave me before the priest started his sermon made me want to stand on my toes and kiss him.

  My mother was crying loudly in the first row. She looked like she couldn’t be happier, and my father was practically beaming with pride. Only my brother Orazio, who’d arrived only two hours ago from Cleveland, where he had work to do for the Outfit, looked like he couldn’t wait to leave. I preferred the sight of Bibiana’s and Aria’s encouraging smiles. While the priest spoke, I kept throwing glances at Dante, and what I saw on his face tore at my heart. Every so often sorrow marred his expression. We had both lost someone, but for Dante the person had been the love of his life, if rumors could be believed. Could I ever compete with that?

  When it was time for our kiss, Dante bent down without hesitation and pressed his warm lips against mine. He definitely didn’t feel like an iceman. Mamma’s words popped into my mind and a thrill of excitement rushed through me. Maybe I couldn’t make Dante forget his first wife—and I didn’t want to—but I could help him move on.

  * * *

  After church, we all drove to the hotel for the following celebrations. It was the first moment of privacy Dante and I got as a married couple. He didn’t hold my hand as he drove, but he probably wasn’t the touchy-feely kind of guy. What worried me more were the tension in his jaw and the steel in his eyes.

  “I think it went well, don’t you think?” I said when the silence got too oppressive.

  Dante’s eyes snapped to me. “Yes, the priest did a good job.”

  “I wished my mother hadn’t been crying so much. Usually she’s better at composing herself.”

  Dante smiled tensely. “She’s happy for you.’”

  “I know.” I paused. “Are you happy?” I knew it was a risky question.

  His face closed off visibly. “Of course I’m happy with this union.”

  I waited for something more, but the rest of the drive passed in silence. I didn’t want to start our marriage with a fight, so I let it drop.

  When we got out of the car and headed toward the entrance, Dante touched my back. “You look very beautiful, Valentina.” I peered up at him, but his gaze was directed straight ahead. Maybe he’d realized how cold he’d been acting in the car and had felt guilty.

  The ballroom of the hotel was beautifully decorated with pink and white roses. Dante kept his hand on my lower back as we made our way to our table under the cheers of our guests. Most of them had arrived before us and had already settled at their tables. We shared a table with my parents and brother, and Dante’s parents as well as his sister and her husband. I hadn’t talked to Dante’s parents, except for a few occasions of small talk. They’d been nice enough though. My brother Orazio pretended he was busy with something on his iPhone, but I knew he was only trying to avoid our father’s questions.

  Aria and Luca, and Matteo and Gianna, as well as the rest of the Scuderi family occupied the table to our right. Aria gave me a smile before she returned her watchful gaze to her sister and Matteo, who seemed on the verge of an argument. Those two would have one hell of a marriage. Matteo didn’t seem to mind the glowers Gianna was sending his way.

  “You look beautiful together,” Ines said, drawing my attention back to our table.

  Dante regarded me with an unreadable expression.

  The servers chose that moment to enter the ballroom with plates.

  After the four-course dinner, it was finally time for our dance. Dante led me toward the dance floor and pulled me against his chest. I smiled up at him. He felt warm and strong, and was a good dancer. He smelled perfect, like a warm summer breeze and something very masculine. I couldn’t wait to share a bed with him, to see what he hid beneath the fabric of his expensive suit. If we had been alone, I would have rested my cheek against his shoulder, but everyone was watching us, and I didn’t think Dante liked to show intimacy in public.

  Of course our guests didn’t care. Soon they started calling, “Bacio, bacio!”

  Dante peered down at me with one cocked eyebrow. “Do we honor their wishes, or ignore them?”

  “I think we should honor their wishes.” I really really wanted to honor their wishes.

  Dante tightened his hold on my back and firmly pressed his lips against mine. His blue eyes were fixed on me, and for a moment I was sure I saw something like warmth in them. But then the guests flooded the dance floor to join in the dancing, and our kiss was over. Shortly after, Fiore Cavallaro asked me to dance and Dante had to dance with his mother. I smiled at my father-in-law, unsure how to act around him. He had the same cold aloofness going as Dante. “My wife and I had hoped Dante would choose someone who wasn’t married before,” he said, and I had trouble masking my shock.

  The smile on my face became difficult to maintain, but I didn’t want people to realize that Fiore had said something that hurt me. “I understand,” I said quietly.

  “But his reasoning convinced us. Dante needs an heir soon, and someone not quite as young might prove a better mother to our grandchildren.”

  I nodded. Their cold logic was something I hated with every ounce of my being. Not that I could tell him that.

  “I don’t intend to sound cruel, but this is a marriage of convenience, and I’m sure you know what’s expected of you.”

  “I do. And I’m looking forward to having children with Dante.” It was true. I’d always wanted children. I’d even considered in-vitro fertilization when I’d still been married to Antonio, but I wanted the chance to get to know Dante better before I tried to get pregnant. Naturally, I couldn’t tell his father that either.

  When the next song started, my brother took over from Fiore as was expected. “I’m glad you could come,” I told him as I looked up at him. He had my dark green eyes and almost black hair, but those were the only similarities between us. We’d never been close—not for lack of trying on my part, however. I wasn’t sure if that would ever change. He resented our father for coddling me, and sometimes I thought he resented me for having had it easier than him.

  “I can’t stay long,” he said simply. I nodded, having expected nothing else. Orazio avoided our father as much as possible.

  I was glad when Pietro, Ines’ husband, asked me to dance. He was a quiet man and didn’t step on my feet, so I wouldn’t have minded dancing with him until the end of the evening to avoid awkward conversation. Of course that would have been beyond inappropriate. After my dance with Pietro, hospitality dictated that I had to dance with the head of New York. While Aria looked perfectly comfortable around Luca now, I definitely wasn’t. Nevertheless, I accepted his hand when he held it out for me. He wasn’t smiling. I’d only ever seen glimpses of a real smile when he looked at Aria.

  Dante was tall and muscled, but with Luca even I had to tilt my head back to maintain eye contact. I knew people were watching us as we danced. Dante’s steely gaze in particular followed every move we made, even though he was dancing with Aria. Not that Luca seemed much happier about the fact that Dante was embracing Aria. Men in our world were possessive. Men like Dante and Luca were something else entirely.

  When one song ended and the next began, I could hardly hide my relief. Luca had a knowing expression on his face. He was probably used to people being uncomfortable in his presence. My next da
nce partner was Matteo. I didn’t know him very well, but I’d heard about his temper and his skill with the knife.

  “May I?” he asked with an exaggerated bow.

  I curtsied mockingly in turn. “Of course.”

  Surprise flashed in his eyes. He pulled me against him with a shark-grin. Closer than Luca had risked. Closer than any sane man would risk.

  “I think I saw your husband twitch a little just now,” he murmured. “That’s the equivalent of an emotional outburst for a cold fish like him, I suppose.”

  I exhaled, trying to stifle laughter. “You don’t like to beat around the bush, do you?”

  His dark eyes twinkled with mirth. “Oh, I like bushes well enough, don’t worry.”

  I burst out laughing. And not a ladylike, restrained chuckle. It was high-pitched laughter. “I’m pretty sure that was inappropriate.”

  I could feel a few heads turning our way, but I couldn’t restrain myself.

  “You’re right. I was warned to behave myself around the wife of the Boss so as not to cause a rift between New York and Chicago,” he said lightly.

  “Don’t worry. I won’t tell on you.”

  Matteo winked. “I fear it’s too late for that.”

  “I think it’s my turn again,” Dante said, appearing beside us, his hard glare fixed on Matteo, who seemed thoroughly unperturbed.

  Matteo took a step back. “Of course. Who could stay away from such dark beauty for long?” He bent over my hand and kissed it. I stiffened, not because of the kiss, but because of the look in Dante’s eyes. I slipped my hand into his quickly and squeezed, and suddenly Aria was at our side. “Matteo, you should dance with me now.” He did and Aria cleverly moved them away from Dante and me.

  “I thought you wanted to dance with me?” I said in a forced casual tone, peering up at Dante’s hard face.

  His blue eyes settled on me. He wrapped his arm around me and started to move us to the rhythm of the music. I wasn’t sure what had been the source of his anger: jealousy, or Matteo’s disrespect. “What did he say?” Dante asked eventually.

  “Hm?”

  “What made you laugh?”

  Maybe jealousy was the major driving force after all. That made me unreasonably happy. “He made a joke about bushes.”

  Realization filled Dante’s face. “He should be more careful.” The threat was obvious. Good thing Matteo and Luca hadn’t heard it.

  “I think he’s a bit tense because of the problems between Gianna and him.”

  “From what I hear, he’s always been volatile, even before his engagement to the Scuderi girl.”

  “Not everyone is as controlled as you are,” I said pointedly.

  He raised his eyebrows but didn’t say anything in return.

  * * *

  Shortly after midnight, Dante and I excused ourselves. The hotel had offered us their biggest suite for the night, but Dante preferred to return home and I was actually glad. I was eager to finally move into Dante’s house. Although, I was also worried since he’d shared it with deceased wife. It was probably filled with many memories. Bibiana crossed her fingers as I walked past her, and I couldn’t help but smile.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  I was glad it was time for our wedding night. My first real wedding night. I’d waited too long.

  On the drive to Dante’s mansion at Chicago’s Gold Coast, neither of us spoke. Silence seemed to have become a loathsome tradition for us. I busied myself watching traffic through the passenger window while I desperately tried to hide my rising nervousness. Was it possible to feel excitement and dread at the same time?

  Dante slowed as we approached a huge light-brown three-story mansion. Wrought-iron gates swung open when he pressed a button in the dashboard and we drove through, then headed for the double garage. My family’s mansion wasn’t too far away. It was smaller than Dante’s home, as was to be expected. The Underboss couldn’t have a bigger house than his Capo.

  After Dante had parked next to a Mercedes SUV, he got out. He walked around the car and opened my door for me, then held out his hand and helped me out of the car, which was difficult with my dress. His hand was warm and steady. I was always surprised not to find his skin as ice-cold as his persona. He released me the moment I stood, and I almost reached for his hand but stopped myself. I didn’t want to push him. Maybe he could only ever let loose behind closed doors.

  He led me through a side door into the lobby of the mansion. The floor and the staircase were dark hardwood, and a chandelier cast a soft glow down on us. It was strangely quiet. I knew Dante had a maid and a cook, who handled the household for him.

  “I gave Zita and Gaby the day off,” he said offhandedly. Could he read me that easily?

  “That’s good,” I said, then cringed at how that might have sounded. It wasn’t as if I thought we’d entertain the entire house with our bedroom noises, but I preferred to have total privacy for our first night together.

  Dante headed straight for the staircase, then stopped with a hand on the banister to look back at me. I’d halted in the middle of the lobby but quickly rushed toward him and followed him upstairs. My stomach fluttered with nerves.

  This was my second wedding night, but I was almost as inexperienced as I’d been all those years ago, something I really hoped would change tonight. Antonio and I had kissed occasionally at the beginning of our marriage, and he’d even touched my breasts through my nightgown a few times, but when it became clear to me that he wasn’t into it, we abandoned those futile attempts at intimacy.

  I wanted to become a real wife, a real woman, and unlike Antonio, I knew Dante was perfectly capable of consummating our marriage. But that was also my problem. What if Dante noticed I was a virgin? Could I hide it from him? Maybe if I asked him to extinguish the lights, I could hide my discomfort or blame it on nerves over being with someone other than Antonio. But what if he felt my hymen? What would I tell him then? I should have used a vibrator to get rid of it, but the romantic part of me didn’t want to lose my virginity to a device. It was ridiculous.

  My thoughts were interrupted when Dante opened the door to the master bedroom and made an inviting gesture for me to go in. I walked past him, my wedding dress swooshing gently with the movement. I flashed him a quick glance in passing to gauge his mood, but as usual his expression was unreadable. The king-sized bed was black wood with black satin covers. For a moment I wondered if he’d kept it black since his wife’s death. And then a worse thought took its place: was it the same bed he’d shared with his first wife?

  “The bathroom is through that door,” Dante said with a nod toward a dark wood door to my right.

  I hesitated. Did he want me to freshen up? He closed the bedroom door and started loosening his tie. Didn’t he want to undress me? He headed toward the window and looked out, his back to me. I got the hint. Disappointed, I walked into the marble bathroom. It was black marble, so maybe Dante simply liked black. I strode toward the window that faced the same direction as the one in the bedroom, wondering if Dante saw the same view I did—the boisterous lake, the black clouds dotting the night-blue sky and blotting out the full moon—or was he far away, lost in memories? The idea made me uncomfortable, and so I turned away from the window and began to undress before I took a quick shower. I’d waxed my legs in preparation for the wedding as was tradition, so I didn’t need to shave. After I’d dried off, I put on the plum satin nightgown I’d bought for the occasion and brushed out my hair. My stomach fluttered again with nerves and excitement. I took a few moments to gather myself, to look like the experienced woman I was supposed to be; then I stepped back into the bedroom. Dante hadn’t moved from his spot at the window. I allowed myself a moment to admire him in his black suit. He looked strong and sophisticated, untouchable, with his hands pushed into his pockets. An iceman, cold, emotionless, controlled.

  I cleared my throat nervously and he turned toward me. His cold blue eyes scanned my body briefly, but his expression didn’t change. There was
n’t even the flicker of desire. There was nothing. He might as well have been carved from stone. Antonio had at least complimented me on my beauty on our wedding night. He’d even kissed me, had tried to pretend he could desire me, but it had become obvious pretty quickly that the kiss had done nothing for him.

  But what stopped Dante? I deflated inwardly at his reaction. I knew many men found me pleasant to look at and they had never seen me this scantily dressed, but Dante didn’t seem to be interested in me. I knew his wife hadn’t looked anything like me. Where I was tall and dark, she’d been petite with light brown hair.

  “You can lie down. I’ll grab a shower,” he said. His gaze shifted for the barest moment, but then he stalked into the bathroom and closed the door after him.

  Trying to fight my frustration, I walked up to the bed and slid under the covers. With Antonio, I’d known that he wouldn’t react to my body the way I wanted him to, but I’d thought it would be different with Dante. Maybe he needed a moment to gather his thoughts. It couldn’t have been easy for him today. He’d loved his wife, and marrying again must have been really tough for him. Maybe he needed a shower to prepare himself mentally for the wedding night.

  The shower ran for a long time and eventually my eyelids became heavy. I tried to fight the tiredness, but at some point I must have dozed off because I jerked awake when the bed dipped. My eyes darted to the side where Dante was stretching out. His chest was naked and I wanted nothing more than to run my hands over his slightly tanned, firm stomach and chest. His cool eyes settled on me. It was impossible to say what he was thinking. Would he reach out for me now?

  I lay on my back, waiting for him to do something, nervous and excited and scared. I had to stop myself from making the first move. That would have been too forward.

  “I have an early day tomorrow,” he said simply, and then he turned the light off and rolled away from me. I was glad the darkness hid my shock and disappointment. I waited for a few more minutes for him to change his mind, to claim his rights, but he didn’t. He lay beside me quiet and unmoving, his back a few inches from my arm.