by Bethany-Kris
Catrina watched him under her lashes. “No one sees me like you do.”
Yeah, this woman was so damned sexy it hurt. Catrina didn’t even have to try, she just was. From the way her body moved, to how she watched him like he was a God … it was enthralling.
Catrina spun on her heel, glancing over her shoulder at the same time Dante lifted the camera. He didn’t bother to check the settings. Catrina didn’t need adjustments. He did turn off that goddamn flash, though. There was more than enough natural light coming in through the windows, bathing his wife in a halo of color.
When her thumbs slid under the collar to draw his shirt down over her shoulders, Dante was already taking shots. The shirt dropped to the floor, exposing black lace contrasting against white skin. Catrina kept watching him all the while.
He was sure she expected him to take shots of her as a whole, but he had other plans. She was so gorgeous—every last fucking inch of her was breathtakingly beautiful in a way he couldn’t explain with words. But pictures? That might be something Dante could capture.
The curve in her waist. The red of her lips and how they quirked up at the corners when she was thinking too hard. The swell of her backside, or the small birthmark on the back of her thigh where her ass melded into her hip. Those fingernails of hers with embedded crystals glittering on the manicured tip as she turned, tracing her cheekbone.
And her eyes.
Hell, her eyes … Always on him, wanting just him.
Fuck, Dante loved this woman.
It smacked him like a kick to the heart. Swift and painful and drawing away before he could think on it too long and react.
But it was there and he had felt it.
Dante knew at that moment he was fucked.
• • •
When did this happen?
How?
Dante kept asking himself those same two questions over and over until the words were permanently imprinted in the back of his fucking mind.
Another photo finished processing from the printer. He pulled it out and absorbed the impact his wife’s sensual smile had on his heart and soul, not to mention his body. The colored photograph had almost turned a black and white from the natural contrast of the light earlier that morning.
Dante made sure his office door was still closed before clicking a button on his laptop to print another photo. He had dug the printer and specialty photo paper out of the storage closet earlier, wanting to see what the shots would look like in physical form and not just digital.
They were perfect. A lot like Catrina.
Sighing, Dante massaged the ache beginning to throb in the base of his skull.
He couldn’t pinpoint a time when he started to fall in love with Catrina. There were no particular moments that stood out to him for why he jumped headfirst into something he had always fought against.
The one thing he knew for sure was it hadn’t been a fast love, but rather, something that grew over time. Slowly, like a seed implanted and sprouting. Definitely a weed, though. Because once a weed was there, it didn’t matter how many times you pulled it out, it still grew back.
Love.
It was such a sickening, awful creature. Like something had come along, sat itself down on his chest, and now it couldn’t be moved.
Dante had long since trusted himself to make the right choices, to know when to push forward or back the fuck off. Apparently he didn’t know a thing if someone like Catrina could bleed her way into his veins without him even noticing.
Love was hell. It kind of hurt, too. And not in a good way, but in a really bad way. Because he loved her but she didn’t love him. Things were never going to be the same after this. She wouldn’t want love.
Dante set himself up for failure with Catrina. He was going to lose everything because of this, including her.
Simple as that.
• • •
“Morning,” Lucian said as he stepped inside Dante’s condo.
Dante ticked his chin up at his brother from the couch. “Hey.”
“What are you doing still sitting in front of the TV at eleven in the morning, man? We’ve got shit to do today.”
Dante scoffed. “No, you want to go eat at Cazza, fuck around for half the day, then maybe try and get some work done later. I know you, so don’t even bother trying to deny it, Lucian.”
“I work. Shut your mouth, cafone.”
“I never said you didn’t, I simply said I knew what your plans were for today. Tribute is coming up and you always take it easy leading up to it.”
Lucian glared up at the ceiling. “Because it’s a long day.”
“Longer now that you’re an underboss.”
“Exactly.”
“Cazza for lunch?” Dante asked.
“It’s got the best food this side of New York.”
“It’s your restaurant. It’s not surprising you think that.”
“Still has the best food,” Lucian pointed out.
“According to you,” Dante shot back.
Dante pushed off the couch, brushing invisible dust from his pant legs. There wasn’t a spec of fucking dust in the condo, not with Catrina around.
“I’ve got to grab my suit jacket from the office,” Dante said, canting his head for his older brother to follow. Lucian did, quietly. A little too quietly for Dante’s liking. “What’s up with you?”
Lucian cleared his throat as they stopped outside Dante’s office. “You know where Cat is today, right?”
“Visiting with Jordyn,” Dante replied. “She and Kim are just about the only two females Catrina actually likes. It even surprises her. You know how she is; men are easier to manipulate than women. Why?”
“Just wondering.”
Dante crossed his arms, waiting for his brother to spit out whatever in the fuck he was chewing on. “Do you have some kind of issue with her being there, or what?”
“No, I just thought it was odd she goes over but you never do anymore.”
Yikes.
This was not a conversation Dante wanted to have. He’d been terribly lucky to avoid it since Johnathan’s birth, but here his brother was basically asking without outright saying it.
“It’s my son, isn’t it?” Lucian asked.
“It’s not John,” Dante said honestly.
“What else is it?”
The way you all look at me when I’m near him, Dante thought. Like I might break into fucking pieces over a child.
“It’s not John,” he repeated, wanting the conversation to be over.
Without another word, he opened the door to his office. Dante realized his mistake the moment he stepped inside, but it was already too late. The pictures he had flipped through the night before after printing them out were still spread out all over the room. Nothing was hidden. His distraction lately had led him to forget about it before he invited his brother in.
“Holy shit,” Lucian whispered.
“Out,” Dante said, turning fast on his heel to push his older brother back out of the room. “Now, Lucian.”
“No fucking way.” Lucian dodged Dante easily, slipping around to do a circle in the middle of the space. “I repeat, holy shit, Dante.”
Dante swallowed his nerves, doing a quick inventory of the pictures. None of them were graphic enough of Catrina in her various stages of undress to warrant his anger, but they were very telling if someone understood Dante’s mind. If anyone would, it was Lucian.
All of the pictures were black and white. Some of his wife’s smile, the camber of her brow, or the fan of her lashes across her cheekbone. Photos of her clothed in only his dress shirt, all the buttons undone but one as she sat with her knees drawn up in a chair. Fingers clenched into bed sheets. Water beading down skin. There were some he had taken when she was under him, her body wrought with the explosion of a climax, but instead of an entire portrait, he’d only caught the camber of her mouth when she cried his name.
“I shouldn’t be looking at these, should I?” Luci
an asked quietly.
“No,” Dante murmured. “Can we get out of here?”
“I don’t think so.” Lucian spun on his heel to face his brother. “I knew you two were … intimate.”
Dante openly glared. The only reason his brother knew anything about his physical relationship with his wife was because Cecelia couldn’t stay quiet after seeing Dante kiss Catrina almost a month ago.
“Fucking, you mean.”
“Don’t be an asshole because I figured out your secret, Dante.”
“Fuck off,” Dante warned darkly. “You don’t have a clue.”
“Look at this room! Look at it.” Lucian waved his arms wide and said, “You married because you had to, so you found a female just as difficult as you. Mr. I-can’t-feel-a-thing just happened to get lucky enough that the woman he found was attracted to him. You’ve been hiding it well enough … making it work.”
Lucian barked out a laugh. “Jesus, have you ever been making it work, huh?”
“Stop.”
“Not a chance, brother. Does she know you see her this way?”
Dante swallowed thickly. “No.”
“She doesn’t know you love her?”
“No.”
“Cristo, why not?” Lucian demanded. “What in the hell are you so afraid of when it comes to falling in love?”
“I’m not like you or Gio,” Dante replied.
“What?”
“It was so easy for you two. You both found who you wanted and boom, that was it for you. There was no questioning it or fighting against it. It didn’t take time, Lucian. You didn’t have to fall in love, you jumped into it because you didn’t feel like you had something to lose. And it was the same goddamn circumstance with Gio and Kim.”
“What could you possibly lose, Dante?”
“Me. I didn’t want to lose what made me who I was. It’s what I’ve identified with my whole life, and if it were to change, all of the things I thought I understood would be gone. So I wanted to keep what I knew. Part of that meant wanting to share forever with someone was selfish of me because I couldn’t give her normalcy. No children. Her life would be tainted by rules and expectations. Everything around her would be unstable because of my choices and profession and that’s not fair for her.”
“But—”
“But nothing,” Dante said shortly. “You don’t get to argue with me about this. You’re not me, so you can’t possibly know what goes on inside my head.”
“You’re right. I’m sorry.” Lucian glanced to the side, taking in a swath of pictures. “There are other ways to have children, though. That’s all I wanted to say.”
“Right, because adoption is completely acceptable in Cosa Nostra. It’s not. We both know it. That’s like bringing in an outsider and people get uncomfortable, even if it is just a child. It makes everything too difficult, especially given the circumstances of the adoption. Don’t start going on about how it could work—I’m not interested.”
“I meant a more medical way, Dante. Like a … donor.”
Dante cringed nine ways to Sunday. Yes, because he totally wanted to design his child at a fucking sperm bank by eye color and heritage. Or worse, discuss the option of one of his brothers being the donor. No thanks.
“I don’t want to talk about this shit. The entire issue was more than just children. Stop focusing on that one fucking thing. I’ve known for years children would be out of the question and I handled it. Quit poking that goddamn nerve.”
“Fine, whatever. But, you’re awfully touchy on the subject, so …”
“Oh, vaffanculo, Lucian.”
“What’s the problem here?” Lucian asked, waving at the pictures. “What’s the problem with her?”
“Nothing. Cat suits me. I don’t have to worry about failing her—she wants the same shit as me. I don’t have to keep her safe like she’s some glass doll because she can handle herself, and she doesn’t need approval every damn second of the day to feel worthy. She has her own two feet to stand on and she’s got a mighty set of claws hidden under that pretty exterior. She’s perfect for me.”
“I’d tend to agree, except what you just said feels unfinished, Dante.”
“What if it changes? Or she could change. Five, ten years from now. It could. I’m always going to be this person and Cosa Nostra is my life. She might wake up one day and want out of her own game, or maybe she’ll want to slow life down to a normal pace. I can’t give her that. And I didn’t expect this.”
“Love, you mean.”
“I’m not like you or Gio. I’m me and it took time for this to happen. You were like a dried forest and Jordyn was your fire. One gust of wind and you went up in flames. There was no stopping it. Cat and I were not the same. She was a wave and I was the shore. Her effects came in slow rushes, building up strength.
“When it did crash into me and I realized what happened, it was too late because she took me straight out with her. And I fucking drowned,” Dante finished sharply.
“I am so confused,” Lucian said, frowning.
“Yeah, well just imagine what it feels like to live inside my head.”
Chapter Thirteen
Cat bent down to hand little Johnathan his stuffed bear. The ten-month-old baby grasped as tightly to the toy as he could with one hand while making grabbing motions to his aunt with the other.
“Go on,” Jordyn encouraged quietly. “Pick him up.”
“Ah …” Cat didn’t want to be a bitch, but besides her nephew, she hadn’t held many babies. “I don’t know.”
“Why not? The worst he’ll do is drool all over your silk shirt or use your cellphone as a teether.”
Cat laughed before plucking the little boy up into her embrace. Johnathan immediately started babbling incoherently and fussing with Cat’s red hair and her silver earrings. As long as he didn’t start pulling on shit, she was good.
“Have you thought about kids at all?” Jordyn asked.
Cat made a face. “No, definitely not. I’m not in the right business to be having babies of my own. It makes an attachment I can’t afford to have.”
God, she was such a fucking liar.
“I know Dante can’t …”
Jordyn passed Cat a sympathetic look. Cat shrugged in response.
“That makes it easier on me, I guess,” Cat admitted. “I would hate to refuse him something like that if he was capable and wanted children, you know. Now, it’s just an option we don’t have and so we don’t need to discuss it at all. Simple.”
“Seems sad.”
“For others, maybe. We’re doing fine like we are.”
“I couldn’t imagine not having Johnathan,” Jordyn said, reaching over to stroke the babbling baby’s chubby cheek.
“He is sweet.” Cat wiggled her fingers and the baby instantly took notice of the tiny sparkling crystals incrusted at the tips of her manicured nails. In a blink, Johnathan’s little mouth covered her fingers and his tiny teeth bit down. “Ouch, piccolo!”
“And teething,” Jordyn added with a snort. She disengaged her son’s mouth from Cat’s hand before taking the boy back and placing him to the floor once more. “So, why the visit? Not that I mind, but you know, Dante doesn’t make his way over here a lot since Johnathan was born and you’re always busy.”
“Noticed that about Dante, did you?” Cat asked, smirking.
Jordyn looked uncomfortable. “It’s kind of hard not to. I mean, we’ve been living in this house for over a year and I can count the amount of times he’s been inside on one hand. Before Johnathan, Dante was a lot like Gio, coming over at least four days out of the week just to say hi. So yeah, I’ve noticed. And it really hurts Lucian, even if he won’t admit it.”
Of course, it would. Cat could see, she had eyes. The brothers were obviously close. Dante was simply protecting his feelings in the only way he knew how. By building more walls. Cat would knock a few down whether he liked it or not. He needed to learn there was more in life than business. Mostly im
portantly, his family.
She planned on reminding him of that before he forgot.
“Did you ever think perhaps it’s not really Johnathan that keeps Dante away?” Cat asked.
Jordyn didn’t answer, but guessing by her disbelieving expression, Cat’s statement wasn’t being received well.
Cat bent at the knees, grabbing Johnathan under his fat little arms and setting the boy on his feet. She kept her hands on him to give him stability as he wobbled around the island.
“I’m serious,” Cat said, continuing to give her nephew her attention as she talked.
“I’m listening.”
“For Dante, it’s all about how everyone else around him is perceiving him. Others might think it vain, but for him, his image is the utmost important thing. Emotions are weaknesses that crack hard exteriors. People would talk—think him pathetic. Especially considering only his close family, his wife, a priest, and his doctor are aware of his fertility issues. He’s intended to be a cold man, but a man, nonetheless. How would others feel to learn he can’t do one thing all men should? Would he be thought of as a lesser man?
“Beyond that, he’s Italian living in a very cultured world,” Cat continued softly. “Italians love their large families. It’s a part of being who we are. Dante isn’t able to have his own and he’s very aware that those around him know it, too.”
“That’s ridiculous.”
“Is it, really?” Cat asked pointedly. “You gave me a sad look not five minutes ago accompanied by the fact you knew my husband couldn’t produce children. Even if I tell you we’re fine with our circumstances—and we are for now—in your heart, you don’t truly trust we are. Because clearly we can’t be fulfilled and happy with only one another in our lives, we must need more.”
Jordyn cleared her throat, refusing to meet Cat’s gaze. “Okay, true enough. I’m sorry for assuming. Please, continue.”
“When he’s around Johnathan,” Cat said, letting the baby boy plop down to his bottom, “… everyone believes they have to be mindful of Dante’s feelings. As if just being near this child hurts him or that perhaps your conversations about Johnathan bothers him because of his inability to have a child of his own. All that does is make him think others are seeing only his failures, his lack of children included.”