Emilia remained still. Motionless. The silence had me wondering if she’d rebottled the tears and shielded herself from her own feelings again.
“I know you have feelings, Emilia,” I admitted. “You express them in the way you look at me, the way you kiss me.” I swallowed. “I feel them. I feel them the strongest when we make love.”
She gently pulled away, and I repositioned my hands on her hip bones over the plush fabric, then locked on to her glistening eyes.
“You know I’d never ask you to choose between me and the promise you made to your father. You must know that. If that’s what you’re afraid—”
“What if you leave me someday? Or I leave you?” Her lower lip trembled, fresh tears falling. “What if you die? Or I die.” She sniffled. “What then?”
“What if I don’t?” I carried my palms up to gently squeeze her upper arms. “And what if you don’t?”
She closed her eyes. The tears cut off, at least for now. “I’m scared,” she whispered. “I’m not used to being scared.”
She’d admitted her fears before but never so candidly. Never with such raw, unchecked emotion.
“Of what?” Please tell me the truth this time. I brought a hand beneath her chin, wishing she’d look at me. I needed to see her big, brown eyes.
“Being with you and getting hurt.” Her lids finally parted. “And also, not being with you and spending a lonely life full of regret.” It was this path I was worried she’d take.
She swept her tongue along the seam of her mouth, catching the last remaining tear lingering there.
“You know as well as I do the only guarantee in life is—”
“That everyone dies?” she offered bluntly.
“Well, yeah, but that wasn’t what I was going to say,” I responded, my insides feeling a bit mangled at the idea of anything ever happening to her. “I just know with absolute certainty that not being with you would be a tragedy. That’s a fact.”
“I hate tragedies.” She drew her hands to my chest before sliding them up the sides of my neck. “Why can’t fairy tales be real?” Her dark brows lifted, her lips a pale pink from the lipstick she must have smeared off before her shower.
“Who says they can’t be?”
“What about the rule? My promise?” Her mouth was close to mine. So close.
“We’ll figure it out.” I dipped down, doing my best to restrain myself until she was ready. “If you’re in,” I began, my voice rough as emotion choked me up, “I’m in.”
Contemplative eyes narrowed on me, and her lips rolled inward.
“You don’t have to make a decision now,” I reminded her.
As long as I knew that she was finally letting me in, letting her walls down, well, I could wait.
She peered up at me, and I was going to get lost in her bottomless brown eyes. “Make love to me.”
I didn’t hesitate, not after she’d used the word “love” for the first time. I lifted her into my arms and carried her into the bedroom, shouldering open the door without losing hold of her. Her robe slid open slightly, revealing her long, sexy legs draped over my arm. She looked at me differently somehow. She was softer, more open to me. Open to the possibilities of us.
I set her on the bed and removed my clothes as she untied the robe, allowing it to open all the way and expose her golden skin and toned body.
I peeled off my clothes and climbed on top of her, holding myself over her with my forearms.
“Be with me,” she whispered, and that was all I needed to hear. I pushed my cock into her warm, wet sex and filled her to the hilt.
Her brown eyes were heavy-lidded as we gazed at each other, sharing a moment of stunned silence at how perfect it felt to be connected without any walls between us.
She clutched hold of my arms as we slowly made love.
A moment later, she closed her eyes. “What’s wrong?” I froze even though my body begged to keep moving.
“There’s something you need to know, but I . . .” The forlorn look on her face was going to break me in two.
“Shhh, it’s okay,” I promised as her lids parted.
“I think I might cry again, which is crazy, especially because us like this—it makes me happy. A kind of happiness I didn’t believe was possible for me.”
I shut my eyes for only a second to recall an expression I’d once heard years ago, but it had always stuck with me. “‘If you have not cried, your eyes cannot be beautiful.’”
The side of her lip went between her teeth. “That’s Italian, you know. Sophia Loren said it,” she whispered. “‘Se non hai pianto, i tuoi occhi non possono essere belli.’”
“Yeah, sounds much better when you say it.” I caught the single tear that rolled down her cheek with the tip of my finger.
“See.” I swallowed the knot in my throat, mesmerized by her glimmering eyes. “Beautiful.”
Chapter Twenty-One
Sean
“Where is he?”
I jumped out of bed when I heard my brother’s angry bellow from the living room and grabbed the shirt and jeans I’d worn last night from the floor. Unable to find my boxers, I hastily put on my jeans without them.
What time is it? I checked the clock on the nightstand as I tossed the shirt on the bed, deciding not to wear it. I hadn’t even heard Emilia get out of bed this morning. Maybe Ethan had woken her up, no doubt pounding on the door, but I’d been too deep asleep to hear it.
It was the first full night we’d spent together since Scotland, and I hadn’t wanted to get out of bed, worried it was a dream.
“What’s going on?” I barked out, flinging open the bedroom door to find Emilia in black sweats and a dark tee, hands on her hips and standing before Ethan like a gatekeeper.
Ethan’s dark brows lifted, and he pushed past Emilia, accidentally knocking her arm with an elbow in his haste. He strode toward me, hands clenched into fists and jaw tight, his face and neck flushed with anger. Great. What the feck did I do?
He came at me swinging, and I caught his punch mid-air just before it connected with my jaw. He’d been working out based on the fact it was taking a lot of my energy to keep his fist from slamming into my face.
“What’s wrong with you?” Emilia set a hand to Ethan’s shoulder, attempting to get him to back down.
And then it dawned on me. Sara. Of course. “You really want to hit me?”
“Yes,” he seethed, retracting his fist but leaning his face closer to mine.
I took a step back and held both palms up, hoping he wouldn’t come at me again. I didn’t want to flip my brother to the ground, but I would.
“I was worried dating your ex was a bad idea, but I never thought you’d betray me.” He stabbed the air, which was the more intelligent thing to do than try and hit me again. “How could you make a move on her like that, especially when she’s vulnerable? After what she went through being attacked and—”
“I didn’t make a move on Sara,” I said calmly, “and the fact you’d even think that means you need to grow up.” I caught Emilia’s curious eyes. My run-in with Sara last night had completely slipped my mind once I’d arrived at Emilia’s suite. Emilia had, in her own way, given herself to me. Part of herself, at least. And we’d had the best sex of my life after she’d opened up.
“She said you came onto her. What? Did Emilia turn you down, so you hit on my girlfriend? Kissed her? What, did you fall onto her lips?” Ethan folded his arms and jutted his chin, his square jaw just begging for my fist. And I’d deck him if he continued to believe Sara over his own flesh and blood.
I scratched my neck, the scruff there from my week-old beard starting to grow itchy.
“She rejected you, so you came back to Emilia, is that it?” And my brother was officially going to need to walk himself right the feck out. Now.
“Get out,” I snarled. “You have no bloody clue what you’re talking about.” I set a palm on my chest. “Sara chased me down. She threw herself at me, and when I pu
lled her off me, she was apologetic, said she was confused because she saw you flirting with your ex. I told her to tell you what she did and stay the hell away from my family.” I turned my back, unable to face my kid brother. “I need you to leave. I can’t even look at you right now.”
“Ethan.” Emilia’s soft tone immediately eased my tension. “We didn’t want to ruin your Christmas, but we’ve had concerns about Sara ever since she was ‘attacked.’ A friend of mine did some digging, and we have footage of Sara meeting with Luca Moreau in New York.”
“Luca? The Luca?” Ethan asked, clearly shocked by the news. “No, that can’t be right.”
Yup, he was blinded by love, or more likely lust. During the short time I’d been with Sara years ago, she’d struck me as the gold-digger type. Always playing her sex kitten games and pouting when she didn’t get her way. And based on last night, she hadn’t changed. He needed to move on, and I didn’t want to hurt him, especially not right before Christmas, but if he had the nerve to accuse me of hitting on her, then so be it.
“There’s a chance The Alliance targeted her as a way to gain access to our family because you two are dating,” I explained.
“What proof do you have?” Ethan asked defiantly.
I slowly faced him, doing my best to keep my twitchy palms—feck, did I need to hit something—at my sides. “We know she wasn’t desperate for that loan. Did she need help to keep living the lifestyle she wanted? Yes. But she didn’t need almost a million dollars to save her business, and she never applied for a bank loan. She lied, Ethan. And Luca was one of the men who met with her before The Alliance deposited cash into her account.”
“She probably knew she couldn’t get a bank loan. No big deal,” Ethan defended her.
“The money she wired to pay back The Alliance, the money I transferred into her account, hasn’t been touched. Doesn’t that seem a bit suspicious to you? If they went to the trouble of sending some goon to her shop to threaten her, then why haven’t they done anything with the money now that they have it? Why is it sitting in an unnamed account in Germany?” I added.
“You’re spying on her? What the feck?” Ethan shook his head. “And what if Luca’s using her without her even knowing it? Did you even think about that option? From what I understand about that lunatic, it’s more than possible.” He approached me, lifting his strong, stubborn chin. Why was he provoking me?
“Yeah, it’s possible,” Emilia replied. “But not probable. She’s involved herself with some very sordid people. Even if she were clueless about The Alliance, she’s certainly not acting like a woman who was threatened with violence last weekend if she didn’t hand over her loan payment to Krause.” Emilia stood before him, confident in her convictions. This was the Emilia I had come to know. A fierce leader. “I’ve watched her, Ethan. She has her eyes set on Sean.”
So, she’d noticed, too. Prior to the kiss on the street last night, from the sounds of it.
“I need to think.” Ethan started for the door.
“Maybe don’t bring her to dinner tonight,” I warned. “Not unless you’re absolutely sure you can trust her.”
He shot one quick, angry look at me from over his shoulder, then took off. The door slammed shut behind him, and I found myself alone with Emilia. Her arms were crossed over her chest, the tight material of her T-shirt emphasizing her breasts. I couldn’t make out her nipples, so she must have put on a bra before opening the door for Ethan. And that reminded me of her confession that she sunbathed in the nude at home in Sicily. I wanted to talk to her about that, but baby steps.
Emilia had cried. Admitted that she had feelings for me. We’d made love. That was a big deal for her, and I wouldn’t be pushing my luck again. Not yet.
“I was going to tell you.” I strode her way and set my hands on her shoulders. “After I dropped you off last night, Sara followed me out of the hotel and then threw herself at me.”
“Unfortunately for your brother, I’m not surprised.” She walked her fingers up my chest, and my muscles twitched at her touch.
Would I ever get enough of this woman? Nope.
“Dinner and Mass tonight are going to be awkward whether he brings Sara or not.” I huffed out a frustrated breath. Maybe we should have warned Ethan sooner?
“You think he’ll come?” Emilia looped her arms around my waist and tipped her chin up.
I combed my fingers through her long, dark hair, some of the strands tangled from last night’s sex marathon. God, the heated look in her eyes and the way she gave herself over to me when I’d wrapped her hair around my fist . . .
She’d mentioned she had something to tell me last night, but then her eyes glistened with tears, and she never shared. I’d asked her later what she’d wanted to say, but she changed the topic like a pro, and I couldn’t seem to get myself to press, worried she’d leave the bed and walk away from me again.
“Ma’s heart will break if he doesn’t, and then I’ll feel like an arse.”
“Maybe let him cool off and talk to him before tonight?” she suggested.
“I suppose. I might need Adam and Cole as reinforcements.”
She moved to the window, shifted the floor-to-ceiling drapes off to the side, and looked out at the city. Instead of a normal overcast day, morning sunlight poured into the room, shining on her, making this fierce and beautiful warrior look like an angel.
“I’ve always loved Ireland.” Her lips crooked into a small smile when she turned her head to seek me out. “You know, that night in Vegas when you sat next to me at the fight . . .” She slowly shook her head. “When I heard your deep voice and Irish accent, I was afraid to look over at you. Afraid to match that incredible voice to a face, thinking there was no way you’d be as sexy and handsome as you sounded.”
I shifted the material of her shirt slightly off her shoulder and bent to kiss her soft skin, then held her hair out of the way and planted kisses up the side of her neck. Just being close to her, touching her, listening to her soothing voice as she recalled the night we met so long ago calmed my tension and stress about Ethan.
“But then I finally looked at you, I felt as if I’d been KO’d in that Octagon. Now that I remember the rest of that night”—she kept her cheek turned to view me—“it’s like every single moment has been painted and is hanging in my head like an art exhibit.”
I pressed my lips to hers for a brief kiss before she returned her focus to the city.
“When I dropped my clutch, and you handed it back to me, I felt—”
“Electricity?” I finished for her because that was exactly what happened to me.
She nodded, still looking out the window. I lifted my gaze to see her reflection in the glass.
“I’d never seen anyone so beautiful in all of my life.”
“And now?” Emilia turned into me, bringing the back of her hand to my cheek.
“You’re even more beautiful than you were then.” My cock strained inside my jeans, the need for her taking over. Something primal happened whenever we were near each other.
We were two seconds away from making love when her burner began to ring. Shitty timing.
“That must be Roman. He’s only supposed to call if he has news.” Emilia hurried to the mobile and placed the call on speaker.
“Hey, do I have both of you?” Roman asked.
“Yeah,” I confirmed.
“Good. Open your email,” he instructed. “Sent you some video footage.”
Emilia worked her fingers quickly over the screen to access her email account.
“Harper’s talented, but your pal Luca has an extraordinary ability for becoming invisible when he wants to. So, we went a different route. We checked Sara’s personal calendar and work itinerary and did the same for Bridgette. Then we compared them to see if the two had come in contact with each other after the loan was deposited into Sara’s account. Turns out it was quite a few times since they work in the same industry. We canvassed CCTV footage and discovered Sa
ra with what appears to be the same two men she’d met with in New York. Bridgette was with them as well. We’ve identified Hans. The other man is obviously in disguise, but can you identify him as Luca?”
Emilia opened the footage, froze the frame, and zoomed in on the face. “Yes, that’s him. When and where was this taken?”
“Milan, three weeks ago. It shows Luca and Hans exiting Bridgette’s hotel room, which confirms she’s most likely aware of, if not in on, her husband’s plans. Sara was in the room as well,” Roman explained. “It also proves this was one of the occasions when Luca removed his tracker because the data you gave me from the device indicates he was in Paris at that time.”
Emilia resumed the video and watched the scene play out. “Bridgette, Sara, the German, and Luca,” she mused, “but no Peter. Do you think it’s possible that Peter wasn’t the one who gave Sara the money?”
“I had those same thoughts,” Roman began, “so, I looked into Peter Krause. I didn’t have time to widen my search beyond the last few months, but he’s never been near Luca or Hans from what I can tell. Not on camera, at least.”
And there went our damn theory. We’d have to rethink things and rework the puzzle. But there was no doubt in my mind Luca was still making a play for power within The Alliance, which also included taking us down.
“Thank you, Roman. This may change things,” Emilia said.
“I thought it might. Be in touch if I learn more,” he replied. “By the way, I have four other guys, as well as Harper, who can come with me to Monaco on New Year’s Eve. We’ll be there.”
“Thank you. That means a lot.” Emilia exchanged a few more words with him, then ended the call.
Once Emilia’s eyes were on me, I began to work through my thoughts out loud. “Bridgette’s father handed over his Alliance leader position to Peter Krause when Peter married Bridgette. The leader position rightfully belonged to Bridgette as heir, but her old-school father refused to give it to her.” Emilia nodded. “Peter may be the acting leader of Germany, but the power still lies with Bridgette’s family.”
The Final Hour (Dublin Nights Book 5) Page 24