by Cora Reilly
“Okay.” I wasn’t really happy about this. I worried about being separated from Dante for that long, but not because I was clingy or couldn’t be alone; no, I was worried that despite his promise, Dante would find reasons to retreat from me once more if we were separated so shortly after we’d come to an understanding.
“I’ll stay with you. I won’t let you alone in this place,” he said as if he knew about my worries, and my heart swelled with gratitude. “And I already told Leo that he would have to handle the casino alone for a while.”
“You don’t want me to work anymore?”
“The doctor said you need to stay in bed as much as possible, so you won’t be able to work. Once our child is born and you’re feeling well enough, we can still talk about finding you a new job.”
“That’s reasonable,” I said, then pulled back and kissed him again. Now that he let me, I wanted to do it over and over again. Soon my breathing quickened, but Dante drew back with a small shake of his head. “We shouldn’t. You need rest.”
“Did the doctor say something about sex?”
“Because of the rupture sex is too risky. It could lead to an infection or cause the rupture to widen.”
“So we can’t have sex for three months if I’m going full-term?”
“Yes. That’s right.”
I knew some men started using mistresses when their wives got pregnant. I didn’t think Dante was the type, but it still worried me. And it wasn’t as if I didn’t enjoy sex. Three months, and possibly longer, without any kind of relief sounded like a challenge.
Dante smoothed out the furrows between my brows. “What are you thinking?”
“Will you be okay with it?”
“You mean with no sex?” he asked with a hint of amusement. “Yes. As I said, self-control isn’t my problem.”
“I hope you have enough for both of us.”
Dante kissed a spot below my ear. “I’m not saying it’s going to be easy. I always want you, Valentina. You drive me insane with desire, but I won’t do anything that could endanger our child.”
“I know. Me neither.” I smiled. “I still can’t believe that we’ll have a little girl soon. When we’re back home tomorrow, I’ll have to show you something I bought today.” I couldn’t wait to see his face when he saw the onesie. I hated that something as horrible as a rupture of membranes had finally brought us closer, but I was glad it had. Now we could look forward to the birth of our daughter together.
* * *
Dante kept his arm around my waist as he led me into our house, though I was perfectly capable of walking on my own. I felt good. Maybe the medication was helping. Or maybe our little girl had decided she liked it in my belly now that her parents had figured things out. Of course I knew I had to be careful. I couldn’t risk going into labor in the next couple of weeks. Our girl still had quite some growing to do.
Dante was about to lead me into the living room, but I shook my head. “I really want to take a shower.” Instead of guiding me toward the staircase, he picked me up and began carrying me upstairs. I was tall, and it couldn’t have been easy for Dante to manage the stairs with my added weight. When he set me down at the top, I said, “You don’t need to carry me. You won’t always be around when I need to take the stairs.”
“I don’t want you to use the stairs, Valentina,” he said, his voice not brooking an argument. “If I’m not around to carry you, then you’ll call for one of the guards.”
I could tell that he wouldn’t budge on the subject, and I was glad that he was trying to take care of me. “Okay. I promise.”
As we stepped into our bedroom, I saw that someone, probably Gaby, had carried up the bags with my purchases and set them down on the chair in front of my vanity. With a smile, I walked toward it and pulled out the onesie I’d bought yesterday before things had taken a turn for the worse. I held it up for Dante to see. “So what do you say?” My voice brimmed with excitement. I almost felt bad for feeling so exuberant after what had happened yesterday and what could still happen to our baby girl, but I was too hopeful to let worries overshadow my other emotions. Dante raised one eyebrow. “I doubt anyone will need the reminder.”
I laughed. “That’s what Bibi said. But it’s cute, don’t you think?”
His arm snuck around my waist. “It is. I thought you didn’t know if it was a girl or a boy?”
“I didn’t, but Bibi wanted to buy matching onesies. She was really hoping for a girl, so her daughter and ours could be best friends. She’ll be beside herself with excitement when I tell her.” I paused. “Have you told your parents that it’s a girl yet?”
Dante frowned slightly. “I talked to my mother last night after you fell asleep. She’s excited for us.”
“But your father isn’t?”
“He didn’t contact me yet. He’s probably trying the silent treatment as a way to show me his displeasure.”
“Really? It’s not like it was our choice to have a daughter. And I hate this fixation on boys anyway. A girl is worthy too.”
“You don’t have to convince me,” Dante said. “But boys are seen as something that strengthens the Outfit, while girls only mean a weak link the men need to protect. It’s the way it’s always been. I can’t see it changing anytime soon.”
“Do you know if there’s ever been a woman inducted into any of the Famiglias in North America and beyond?”
Dante smiled wryly. “That would be news to me. And it won’t happen. I wouldn’t want my daughter to be part of the Outfit. I want her safe and protected. I don’t want blood on her hands and death in her dreams.”
“But you want that for our future son?” I asked softly. Dante brushed a strand of hair back from my shoulders. “It’s the way things are, Val. I will protect all of our children for as long as I can, but eventually our son, at least, will have to brave the dangers of our world. But he’ll be strong.”
“My father always treated my brother Orazio with brutal harshness, and your own father tortured you to toughen you up. Sometimes I don’t want a son because I worry that he’ll have to suffer through the same things.” I didn’t think I could stand back and watch Dante treat our son like that. Even my mother had protected Orazio occasionally when Papà had been too strict. Not that he’d ever abused Orazio as Fiore had done with Dante.
“I will have to be stricter with our son, but I won’t be like my father, I swear.”
I nodded. I believed him.
I could tell that I was starting to tire already, although I’d hardly done anything. “I should grab a shower now. I’m supposed to lie down again soon.”
Dante followed me into the bathroom, his eyes on me as I stepped out of my shoes. I reached for the zipper in the back of my dress, but Dante beat me to it. His thumb traced the bumps of my spine as he pulled the zipper down, and I could feel it all the way down to my toes. The dress pooled at my feet. Now there were only my tights. Dante eased them down my legs, then let his gaze slowly travel up my body as he knelt before me. I wanted nothing more than to fall in his arms and feel him inside me.
Licking my lips, I whispered, “This is going to be hard.”
Dante straightened, his expression confirming my words. “Take a shower. I’ll wait here in case you feel faint.”
“You could shower with me,” I said.
Dante looked hesitant, then he nodded. He got out of his clothes, and when he turned to me I could see he was already half-erect.
“I thought you had self-control,” I teased.
Dante steered me toward the shower, steadying me. “I do, or my fingers would already be delving into your wet heat.”
He turned the shower on, letting the warm water rain down on us before he closed the shower stall and turned to face me, hands on my hips. “How do you know I’m wet?” I asked in a challenging tone.
Dante picked up the sponge and rubbed it lightly over my breasts and stomach. Then he leaned close until his mouth was against my ear. “Because I could see
it when I knelt before you. You were wet for me.”
I was. I didn’t think I’d ever wanted him as much as I wanted him now that we weren’t allowed to sleep with each other. We washed each other with the sponge, occasionally kissing, and our breathing was coming faster with every passing moment. Dante’s erection was hard and red. “Do you want me to blow you?” I whispered as I was pressed up against him. He groaned as my fingers curled around his shaft, but then his hand stilled my motions and he pulled my hand away from his hard-on.
“No,” he rasped. He didn’t sound very convincing. “I’m fine.”
He turned me around so my back was pressed against his chest and his erection was sandwiched between his stomach and my back. His arms came around my belly, palms pressed against my skin, and he kissed my neck lightly. “I think we should get out. You need to lie down.”
I didn’t protest. All the naked kissing was making it more difficult to suppress my desire for him. Dante helped me dry myself, and he looked almost relieved when I was finally dressed in comfortable satin pajamas and stretched out on our bed. Dante and I would have to deal with our desires in the next few weeks. Our baby was more important than anything else.
Dante cradled me in his arms as his fingers raked through my hair. “Thank you for never giving up on me, Val.”
“I knew my stubbornness would come in handy one day,” I said with a small laugh.
* * *
Six weeks later, the doctors decided to perform a C-section. It was still eight weeks too early, but the risk of an infection had become too great. Dante didn’t budge from my side as they cut open my belly. His presence, his steady gaze, the utter control and strength he emanated helped me tremendously. With Dante at my side, I knew nothing would go wrong. As if by the sheer power of his will he could make things turn out okay. Dante could make you believe that he was in control of the situation even when he wasn’t.
He held my hand throughout the C-section and when the first cry sounded, he sought out my eyes before we both turned toward our daughter, wrinkled and smeared with blood as the nurse presented her to us. I let go of Dante’s hand. “Go to our daughter. Go.” He seemed reluctant to leave my side, but after he’d brushed a kiss against my forehead, he straightened and headed toward the end of the operating table. Dante didn’t even twitch at the amount of blood, but I hadn’t expected him to. If the nurses and doctors were surprised by his calm, they hid it, or maybe they believed the rumors about Dante: that he was a high-ranking mafia boss. Of course, nobody would ever confirm these suspicions.
After a few moments, the nurse handed him our daughter, wrapped in a blanket. She looked tiny in Dante’s arm as he peered down at her with the softest expression I’d ever seen on him. There was something fierce there too, and it replaced the gentleness when he glanced up to find the nurses and doctors watching him. I knew our daughter would be safe.
Dante’s eyes spoke of protectiveness, of pure determination to destroy anything and anyone that meant her harm. Turning his gaze away from the hospital staff, Dante approached me with our daughter and lowered himself to the chair beside my head so he could show me our little girl. I knew the doctor would have to take her away soon. She’d have to spend some time in the incubator before she could come home with us. “She’s so beautiful,” I whispered. I didn’t even care that the doctors were busy stitching me back together, or that Dante and I weren’t alone.
“She is, just like you,” Dante said quietly. I ran a finger over her cheek. She blinked at me with her glassy eyes. Her hair was blond like Dante’s, albeit still matted. She was tiny, and I wanted nothing more than to protect her.
“Anna,” I said, for the first time calling her by the name Dante and I had chosen only days before. “Your dad will always love you and keep you safe.”
Dante kissed Anna’s, then my forehead. “You and Anna, both.”
I searched his eyes, and the tears I’d successfully held back up till that point finally found their way out.
EPILOGUE
I lowered myself into the hot water in our bathtub with a sigh. Anna had finally fallen asleep in her crib, and Gaby would spend the night with her in the nursery to make sure she was all right. Dante had a meeting with my father down in the office. Though I suspected the sudden increase in short meetings was the result of my father’s eagerness to see Anna as often as possible. He definitely didn’t share Fiore Cavallaro’s disappointment over having gotten a granddaughter instead of a grandson. It had been only five weeks since I’d given birth to our daughter, and I could already hardly imagine how it had been before her. But tonight I needed some time for me…and Dante. Luckily, Anna had hit a phase of long stretches of uninterrupted sleep. She sometimes slept for up to five hours without a hitch.
I leaned back in the tub and closed my eyes, relaxing for the first time today. My fingers itched to slip between my legs to alleviate the tension there, but I didn’t. It had been months since Dante and I had been intimate, and tonight I wanted that to change. Dante had been nothing but patient, but I didn’t miss that he always took a long time in the shower. I didn’t have to guess what he was doing. Now that my scar had healed, I couldn’t wait to be with him again. Only this time it would be different. For the first time, I’d know he loved me while he made love to me, even if he’d never said the words aloud. The way he looked at me and Anna was worth more than all the spoken declarations of love in the world.
“Val?” Dante called as I heard him enter the bedroom and a moment later the bathroom. His eyes lingered on the swell of my breasts, mostly covered by bubbles. He looked devilishly handsome in his dark gray vest and pants. The top two buttons of his white shirt were open and the sleeves were rolled up, revealing lean muscle. “I checked on Anna. She’s asleep. Gaby is singing to her.”
“That’s great,” I said with a smile. Like Dante had suggested, we’d moved the nursery to the room he’d shared with his first wife a long time ago. Considering that it was three doors down from our bedroom, I wouldn’t have to worry that Gaby might hear us. Dante’s eyes were practically transparent with lust, but he just stood in the doorway. His self-control was marvelous, and a bit frustrating.
“You look tired,” he said carefully. “Do you want to get some rest?” His body said something very different. The growing bulge in his pants was hard to miss.
I shook my head with a smile and straightened, letting water and bubbles trail down my naked body as I stood before Dante. His gaze left a scorching trail on my skin as it slid down to the apex between my thighs. My hand came up to cover the narrow but angry red C-section scar marring my lower belly. I’d always found a way to hide it from Dante’s view so far. The doctor had said it would fade to white in time, but it would never go away completely.
Dante stalked toward me and gently pulled my hand away, revealing my scar to him. “Don’t hide yourself from me.”
“I wasn’t sure if you’d be turned off by the sight of my scar.”
Dante laughed, a rough sound deep in his throat. He gripped my waist, eyes hungry and possessive. “You look like a goddess, Val. Your scar doesn’t make you any less desirable for me. Or do you find my scars repulsive? I have plenty of them.”
“No, of course not. But you are a man. It’s different for women.”
Dante lightly stroked my scar. “This makes you even more beautiful to me because I know why you have it.”
I put my hands on his shoulders, soaking his shirt, but Dante didn’t seem to mind. His eyes kept roaming over my body. I leaned forward and kissed him. “I need you, Dante. I need you so much.”
Dante’s eyes flashed with desire. “Are you sure? Have you recovered enough? I don’t want to hurt you.” My heart pounded with love for him. It meant a lot that he asked me when I could tell how much he wanted to throw me on the bed and take me. One of his hands had already found its way to my butt, stroking the globes in a gentle but very distracting way.
“You won’t,” I said. “As long as we ta
ke it slow, we should be okay.” The last thing I wanted to do was take things slow. I wanted to rip off Dante’s clothes, lick every inch of his skin and have him slam into me over and over again.
Dante didn’t say anything, but he helped me out of the tub and wrapped me into a fluffy bathrobe. He massaged me through the thick fabric until my skin was dry and my breathing was coming in quick puffs. Dante lifted me into his arms and carried me toward the bedroom, where he lowered me on the bed. My toes curled in anticipation as he looked down at me. He slowly crawled on the bed and reached for the belt holding my bathrobe closed. With a tug it came apart, laying me bare to his eyes. “So beautiful,” he said roughly. “I missed your taste.”
His words alone made arousal pool between my legs, and I bucked my hips in silent invitation. A smirk curled his lips before he lowered his head and kissed my breasts, first the left, then the right before he kissed his way down to my stomach. I stiffened when his lips brushed my scar, not because it hurt, but Dante didn’t retreat. My flinching seemed to make him even more determined to pay special attention to this part of my body. His gaze flitted up to me as he pressed another kiss against the scar. His eyes were unrelenting until my muscles finally loosened under his lips.
After another quick kiss, he moved lower, pushed my legs farther apart and then dipped his tongue between my folds. I cried out, already so close to the edge that I could feel my leg muscles tense in anticipation. After a few more strokes and gentle nips, my release gripped me. “Dante!” I shoved my fingers into his hair, holding him against me as I succumbed to the pleasure he was giving me. Dante lifted his face and pressed a kiss against my inner thigh before sitting up. I did the same, my hands going for his vest, pushing it down his shoulders before moving on to unbuttoning his shirt with shaking hands.
“Get up,” I ordered in a breathless whisper. Dante complied, a surprised twinkle in his eyes. I half tore his pants down his legs, letting his hard length spring free. I peered up at Dante as I took him into my mouth, tasting the salty pre-cum on the back of my tongue as he slid to the back of my throat. Dante groaned. He glided in and out of my mouth a few times before he took a step back, out of my reach.