by Wendy Rosnau
Nicci pointed to the book that Rhea held. “I got a new book from Nana. A daa-gon book. Wanna see?”
Joey carried Nicci to where Rhea sat and eased down beside her. Nicci promptly settled himself half on Joey’s leg and half on Rhea’s. Then he laid the book open on his lap and pointed to the purple dragon breathing fire. “Jus like Purple Pete, Daddy. He looks mean, but he yikes kids. Jus like Papa Fank yikes me.”
His innocent words were followed by silence. Rhea refused to look at Joey, and she was hoping he wouldn’t say anything about Frank to their son. She wasn’t sure how to tell Nicci that his Papa was gone, so she had decided to forgo it for now.
As Nicci paged through the book, he talked to Joey nonstop, pointing to the dragon each time it appeared, which was every page. Twice Rhea looked up to find Joey watching her over his son’s head, and both times she quickly looked away.
The heat generated between their bodies added to the awkwardness as the minutes slowly ticked by. The afternoon was nearly gone, and by seven she would be Mrs. Joey Masado.
The irony was that for three years she’d daydreamed about marrying Joey. She’d spent hours on the beach at Santa Palazzo imagining how he would sweep her into his arms and claim that he had never stopped looking for her. Then he would tell her he loved her, something he had never said. And he would speak the words in Italian. He would say, “Ti amo, darlin’. Forever, Ti amo.”
“Rhea, did you hear me?”
She started. “What?”
“I said Lavina Ward will be coming to the wedding. She’s insisted that she bring the wedding cake. And Jacky’s going to bring Sunni to be your maid of honor.”
Opal entered the living room looking at her watch. “I believe Nicci’s overdue for a nap.”
Rhea glanced down to see that her son was fighting to keep his eyes open. She reached down and closed the book. Then Opal stepped forward and took Nicci into her arms.
“Come on, little one. Time for the sandman to pay you a visit.”
After Opal headed down the hall with Nicci’s head on her shoulder, Rhea found herself the center of Joey’s interest. He didn’t say anything, just stared at her until she began to feel self-conscious. She started to get up, but he put his hand on her thigh. Squeezing gently, he said, “I have something for you.”
He raised his sore arm and slowly dug into his shirt pocket and produced a sparkling diamond ring. Rhea stared at it as he clasped her hand and slid the ring onto her finger.
A symbol of love was the accepted meaning behind such an expensive and beautiful gift. But Joey spoke no words of love, made no promises—just looked at his watch and said, “I’ve got some things to attend to, and I’m supposed to meet Jacky and Lucky in my office to go over a few details for tomorrow’s funeral. I’ll see you at seven.”
The outside door closed moments later, and Rhea lowered her eyes to the flashy diamond on her finger. Left to contemplate the future, she couldn’t help wondering what Frank would have said. Would he agree with Joey, that marrying her was the answer? Or would he think it was a mistake?
A mistake that could get Joey killed.
* * *
Sunni Blais brought roses. Jackson brought Mac, his retired German shepherd partner, to meet Nicci. Lucky came with the priest, and Lavina Ward arrived carrying a three-layered white cake with a small plastic bride and groom sitting on top.
At exactly seven o’clock, dressed in a black dress with a high collar and long fitted sleeves, Rhea entered the living room. She had decided that the powder-blue jersey dress and satin shoes she’d found in the gold boxes on her bed an hour ago were inappropriate, and the situation being what it was, a black dress made more sense.
She noted that Sunni Blais wore a rose-colored silk suit, and Jackson and Lucky were dressed in formal black. Rhea couldn’t help but think they would be wearing those same suits tomorrow, and that thought sent raw chills up her spine. She struggled fiercely to contain unwelcome tears.
The large living room was full of bloodred roses, and she realized that the money spent to make a statement in a room this size must have been considerable.
A glance around the room located Nicci sitting on the floor beside Mac. Her son wore black dress pants similar to those of the other men, black shoes, and a white shirt with a black vest and red bow tie. Surprised, she realized that Joey must have shopped for both of them. Or maybe it had been Jean, his secretary.
Joey stood in front of the window talking to Lucky. He was outfitted in black, as well, one hand in his pocket, his head lowered as he listened to Lucky, who had a glass of scotch in his hand.
It was obvious Joey and his brother were discussing something other than the wedding. Lucky seemed to go on and on, and yet Joey never looked away. It appeared the Masado boys worked day and night, something they had been taught over the years by example. Frank’s example.
Frank. Rhea wasn’t sure she was going to be able to get through tomorrow. She’d lost one father already, and even though she’d been very young and she hadn’t known her father all that well, the memory still devastated her.
What would it be like to say goodbye to a man who had truly become a caring father to her in every sense of the word? The father she had always longed for. A father who had sacrificed so much to keep the people he loved safe. A father who had valued her enough to protect her with his life, and to offer her a place in his family.
She had never seen Frank Masado until he’d knocked on her door that cold November day three years ago. But just as Joey had rescued her that night at the hospital so long ago, Frank had come to rescue her, too. Even though, at the time, she had no idea she needed rescuing.
But he had known, and like a fierce lion protecting his pride, he’d swept her out of danger and saved her and his unborn grandson.
“Rhea, I’m Sunni.”
Rhea blinked and focused on Jackson‘s fiancée, the lovely black-haired Sunni Blais. Her hair was swept up into a messy knot, and she was everything Rhea had ever wanted to be—successful and gorgeous. Flawless.
Rhea held out her hand. “I’m glad to meet you. You have a beautiful shop. I spent some time at Silks the other day.”
Sunni took Rhea’s hand and squeezed it gently. “I’ve been wanting to meet you, the love of Joey’s life.”
The comment surprised Rhea. Obviously Sunni thought that because Joey was marrying her, he loved her. She didn’t bother to dispute the perfect illusion. Instead, she said, “I hear you’ll be getting married soon yourself.”
Sunni glanced over her shoulder at Jackson. “Yes, I am. I still can’t believe Jack wants to marry me. But we never know, do we—” she turned back “—why the men we love, love us back. For years I hid behind my diabetes, afraid to trust a man with my heart. Then along comes Jack, bold and wonderful, in-your-face Jackson Ward, claiming to be the man. He’s the man, all right.” Her gaze drifted to Nicci. “You’re very lucky, you know. I would love to give Jack a child, but my doctor doesn’t advise it.”
Rhea felt instantly ashamed. She knew better than to make quick judgments of people, and yet she had done so the moment she laid eyes on Sunni. The truth was, everyone lived with flaws and disappointments. Some were visible, and others lay tucked away where no one could see them. “He’s absolutely adorable,” Sunni was saying. “Nicci is a miniature of Joey.”
The comment sent Rhea’s attention to her son, who lay on his belly examining Mac’s huge feet while the dog licked her son’s face.
“I hope you don’t mind that we brought Mac along. Jack lectured him on the way over, so I’m sure he understands how important it is to be on his best behavior tonight.”
“I warned him there would be no TV for a week if he screws up.” The words were Jackson‘s as he joined them and slipped his arm around Sunni. “You look pretty, Rhea.”
“I look like I’m in mourning, Jackson. And I am,” she said, realizing only after she’d said the words that they sounded hostile and bitter.
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��Joey said you were taking this hard.”
“Frank made a lifetime mistake that haunted him for years. But he tried to make up for it the best way he could.”
“Yes, he did,” Jackson agreed.
“Then, how fair is it that in the end he lost the fight? A fight he deserved to win.”
“Life isn’t always fair, Rhea. You know that. But, yes, Frank deserved to get out alive.”
Rhea glanced away, fighting tears. When her eyes met Joey’s hard gaze, she realized he was studying her dress. Suddenly he left Lucky and started across the room toward her, rounding Sunni and Jackson to stand beside her.
Taking her hand, he said to Jackson, “Will you excuse us for a few minutes?” Then he led her down the hall and into her bedroom.
Inside, she thought he would let her go, but instead he turned quickly and pinned her against the door. “Tell me it didn’t fit.”
Rhea lifted her chin. “Okay, it didn’t fit … my mood.”
His jaw jerked. Then he said, “My house. My rules.”
“If you want me standing beside you, then you’ll have to make an exception this time, Joey.”
“Don’t be stubborn today, Rhea. I want you to wear the blue dress and shoes.” He reached up and brushed his fingers over her lips, then slid his hand around her neck, his fingers sliding into her hair. “Please…”
He was such a powerful man, so very handsome, and, yes, his deep voice and his satin-smooth touch could seduce a saint.
Determined, she said, “I prefer black today.”
“And I prefer you looking like a bride today.”
“I’m not going to change.” Rhea’s heart started to pound.
He noticed and he leaned forward and ran his tongue over her lower lip. “Why fight me, when you know I’m going to win, anyway?” That said, he slid his hands along her rib cage, his thumbs going wide to catch her breasts. Then slowly, he leaned in and kissed her, coaxing her into giving back.
Rhea wanted to resist, but it was impossible when he was this close. He hadn’t kissed her in three days, and she had no strength left. She opened her mouth, let him in—
“Joey, the priest is starting to pace and look at his watch.” It was Lucky’s voice outside the door.
Joey stepped back and said, “We’ll be right there. Come on, I’ll help you change.”
When he released her, Rhea watched him head for the bed to retrieve the dress, and when he was far enough away for her to escape, she simply slipped out the door.
Back in the living room, she was suddenly confronted by Lavina Ward, who came rushing forward. With a look of concern on her face, Jackson‘s mother said, “Something old, something new, something borrowed, something blue. Do you have it all, dear?”
It was then that Rhea realized why Joey had bought the blue shimmering jersey dress and the new shoes. She glanced at him as he appeared in the hall. The priest cleared his throat, and she glanced over to see he was drumming his fingers on the edge of the bar.
She offered him a placating smile, then said, “I’ll be right back. I need five more minutes.”
* * *
The wedding lasted twelve minutes. Dressed in blue and wearing Joey’s cross around her neck—something borrowed—Rhea became Mrs. Joey Masado at seven forty-five on November eleventh.
As much as the priest appeared to be in a rush, Lavina Ward convinced him to stay for a piece of cake, and he was still there an hour later when Rhea spied Joey talking to him, their son asleep on his father’s injured shoulder.
“I’ll put him to bed,” she said softly when she approached the two men. Joey didn’t argue as he slowly slid Nicci off his shoulder.
Inside the bedroom, Rhea dressed her sleepy son for bed. She was tucking him in with his teddy bear beside him when she heard the door open behind her. She turned to see Lucky standing in the doorway. Straightening, unsure what to say, she whispered, “I’m sorry about Frank.”
“It’s not your fault, Rhea.” He stepped into the room and closed the door. Like Joey, Lucky looked very handsome in his black suit—handsome in a wild, hell-raising sort of way.
His nickname fit him perfectly, and there was no mystery as to how he’d earned the name once you started to count the visible scars. He had one on his hand, and there was a vivid inch-long mark on his chin. The one that ran down the side of his neck was half hidden by the length of his hair, and it was only when he turned his head a certain way that you could see that the scar started somewhere behind his ear and disappeared into his shirt collar.
She had noticed that he’d been drinking scotch all night, and he still was.
He came toward the bed and surprised her by reaching down and running his hand gently over his nephew’s silky black hair. Nicci was asleep and he didn’t move, just snuggled deeper into the warm blankets next to his bear.
“Joey got a call and he had to take off. Some business that couldn’t wait. He wanted me to tell you he would be late.”
“Business? Tonight?”
He stepped back and shoved his hand into his pocket. “Don’t worry about mio fratello. I won’t let anything happen to him.”
“Can you guarantee that, Lucky?”
“Right now, Jacky’s with him. And I will join both of them soon. This business tonight isn’t dangerous. Just necessary.”
“Your father told me once that Carlo Talupa was unstoppable. Tell me that’s not true.”
“When Joey wants something, he’s the one who is unstoppable.”
“And what does Joey want, Lucky?”
“That’s a question with many answers. I think it would be best if you ask your husband that, not me.”
Rhea nodded.
He stepped forward and suddenly brushed a warm kiss to her right cheek, then one to the left. “Welcome to the family, bello. You are good for Joey. I have always known it. Because you are, know that my commitment to him and my nephew is strong, and that it is just as strong to you. These are hard times, but we are hard men. Frank taught mio fratello and me to be survivors, and so we are. Things will get better soon. Trust that, and your husband.”
* * *
Joey found Rhea asleep on his bed when he returned to the penthouse at two in the morning. She was still wearing the blue dress he’d bought her for their wedding, and there was an empty wine bottle on the table as well as an empty glass.
He frowned, not comfortable with her drinking. It made him question why she had felt the need, and he didn’t like what he came up with for an answer.
She had an enormous amount of guilt over Frank, and he wanted to ease that guilt.
He removed his suit jacket, then crossed the room and mounted the steps. She was so damn beautiful … beautiful and his wife.
Mio moglie.
The words made lust coil deep in Joey’s gut, and a heavy ache settle between his legs. Needing to touch her, he brushed his hand over her breasts, then down her flat stomach. One knee braced on the bed, he bent down to kiss her. Needing more, his hand slid over her hip and slowly he pulled the dress up to reveal her beautiful legs.
He kissed her delicate knees, then slid his hand beneath the dress to stroke her thighs. He heard her sigh, and he curved his hand over the top of her thigh and slid it between her legs. Another sigh and she relaxed her knees.
Joey backed away and removed her shoes, and then his hands were pushing the dress higher to remove her panties. He slid them off her hips, over her thighs and past her knees. Gently, rolling her side to side to free them from her body, he moaned when the white satin thong settled in his hand.
“Joey…”
“I’m here.” He brought his head up to see that her sleepy eyes were open and her lips were parted.
“I was afraid you wouldn’t come back.”
“Is that why you were drinking?”
For several seconds she didn’t say anything, then she sat up and slid forward. As she did, it sent the slippery jersey higher, offering Joey a glimpse of her silky blond triangle
.
He moaned, then crouched in front of her, shoved the dress to her waist. Leaning forward, he kissed her gently, whispered, “I want to taste you.”
He felt her shiver at his suggestion, then her hands began to work open the buttons on his shirt. After she’d peeled it off him, she leaned forward and kissed the white bandage covering his shoulder.
Quietly, against his neck, she said, “Help me, Joey. Help me forget what will come with the dawn.”
He stood and quickly undressed her, leaving her in only her bra. She hesitated a second, then, keeping her eyes locked with his, she reached around and unhooked the white satin. When her breasts spilled forward, he settled his gaze on her sweet flesh. Her nipples puckered for him.
“You’re so beautiful, darlin’.”
“You don’t have to say that, Joey. I know I’m not.”
“You are, darlin’. And best of all, you’re mine. My wife.” He leaned forward and kissed her marred breast, laid his mouth to the scar and traced it with hot kisses. When his lips curled around her nipple, she arched for him, and he suckled her, then laved and stroked.
He could feel her body trembling as he laid her back on the bed, then shed his clothes.
“All night, Joey,” she whispered.
Determined to give her whatever it was she needed, Joey joined her on the bed. Her lips were parted and moist, her breathing elevated. He kissed her hungry little mouth and when she moaned, he dipped his head and kissed her belly, then moved lower. Brushing featherlight kisses over her thighs, he worked his way toward the silky curls between her legs.
She opened to him, and he slid his fingers inside her, moving them in and out. In and out. Then he brought his mouth over her and his tongue hard against her most sensitive spot.
She cried out, and as she gave herself over to him, he made sweet love to her with his tongue … then with his body, until dawn.
* * *