by Amy Gamet
Forever.
At least in the eyes of the Church.
And his mother.
And hell, maybe himself.
Grace’s legs spread open beneath him and his hardened cock pressed against her underwear. He could feel her damp heat through the fabric of his boxers, feel how ready she was to make love to him.
You won’t be able to get an annulment.
It was everything he’d been taught since he was a little boy, and while some of the tenets of his religion had fallen by the wayside as he grew up and got older, the sanctity of marriage was not one of them.
He teetered on the edge of decision, but when he would’ve pulled back, Grace sucked on his bottom lip, filling him with need. The force of it controlled him, commanded he comply, and he pushed her against the bed, his hips straining against her most intimate places.
He could have been a teenager, grinding fully clothed against a woman for the first time. He was so turned on and excited, every muscle at the ready, knowing he was gone. She lifted her mouth from his, exposing her neck. He sucked lightly on her skin, loving the taste of her and the musky scent of her body.
He had to have her. He slipped his hands into her panties, grabbing her ass cheeks and squeezing her tightly against his ready erection. Then her hands were between them, frantically working the buckle of his jeans.
He’d never been so turned on, so desperate to make love to a woman as this. But the consequences of their union clamored in his brain, forcing him to face what he was about to do. He had to stop before he was inside her, all reason and justification lost to pleasure.
With the very last shred of willpower he possessed, he moved over her and stripped her of her panties, then his hands were doing what he longed to do with the rest of his body, exploring her recesses and smooth flesh, wet from wanting him as much as he wanted her. He tasted her with his tongue and her hips came off the bed.
He wanted to see her lose control. He made love to her with his mouth, his fingers slipping inside of her and stroking the sensitive area on the front of her tight channel.
“I need you inside me,” she said.
He grabbed one full tit in his hand and teased her sensitive peak, sending her over the edge.
He moved beside her and held her in his arms. She reached down and stroked him, squeezing his shaft. He groaned and put his hand over hers. “Don’t.”
“Why not?”
“If we make love, we can’t get an annulment. Isn’t that what we want?”
She didn’t answer, but burrowed her head in the crook of his arm.
“Grace?”
“Yes. We want an annulment.”
21
Her breathing was slowly returning to normal. Her body was tingling all over despite the crush of Matteo’s words on her heart.
It was stupid they hurt her feelings at all. They’d only known each other a week. What did she think would happen? That he would suddenly be desperate to commit his life to her forever?
He moved to get up.
“Stay in the bed with us,” she said.
“Okay. I’ll just get the baby.”
He kneeled on the bed, placing Nico beside her and climbing in after him.
He was so good with her child, everything a woman could ask for in a husband. Was it her fault she was getting caught up in this charade? That she wanted it to continue?
This isn’t about the baby, and you know it.
She liked Matteo enough herself to want him to stick around, and that was before he blew her mind in bed. If that was him holding back, what would it be like if they really made love?
Don’t torture yourself. It’s never going to happen.
She was tired and she felt sleep trying to take her, but she fought it, not wanting this night to end. She needed to savor every sensation before she forgot how good his body felt on hers, the strength of him as he flipped her over and followed her down, the hard ridge of his erection pressing into the softness between her legs.
He’s right, and you know it.
None of these things were enough to base a marriage on. But life was so complicated and difficult lately, and Matteo was so damn solid and good. Not to mention, he had a body that could stop traffic. Of course a woman like her would want a man like that to stick around.
He touched her hair again and she turned her head to see him.
“Get some sleep,” he said.
“I can’t stop thinking.”
“About what?”
Her stomach clenched. She considered lying. “You.” He didn’t say anything and she squeezed her eyes shut.
You just had to tell him, didn’t you?
“I think about you all the time,” he said, trailing his fingers down her face.
She opened her eyes. “You do?”
“Yes.”
She reached up and took his hand in hers with a sigh. “Good night, Matteo.”
22
Logan was on his sixteenth hour of watching satellite footage from the pedestrian bridge in Lutsia, and his eyes were beginning to burn. Somewhere on this recording was a picture of the bomber, and he’d be damned if he was going to give up without finding it.
Jax stood over his shoulder. “Even if you find the guy, you’re not going to be able to ID him from that satellite image.”
“There’s no telling what else I’ll be able to see. A car. Anything could be a clue.”
Cowboy sat down heavily at the conference table behind them. “Did you get ahold of our contact at Interpol?”
“Yes,” said Logan. “He emailed me a report on Ten Komanda, a black ops organization that’s one of the prime suspects in the terrorist attacks. I forwarded it to you.”
“What do you think?”
“I think it’s too simple. Too neat and tidy to blame it on them. Groups like that don’t just decide to go after somebody. They’re hired to do a job, just like we are.”
“So?”
“So, Ten Komanda might be the smoking gun, but they are not the ones pulling the trigger. My guess is someone with a lot to lose. One of the political parties, maybe even a candidate or someone with their own agenda for the country.”
“Good work. Let me know if you find anything on the satellite feed,” said Jax.
“I don’t know, Jax,” said Cowboy. “I’ve got a bad feeling about this one. If Doc over there is right, we might have a freaking superpower trying to kill our guy over there.”
Logan turned around. “Actually, Russia hasn’t been considered a superpower since the late 1990s.”
“Whatever,” said Cowboy. “I think Red might be seriously outgunned and we should send in reinforcements.”
“It’s a bit of a long trip, don’t you think?” asked Jax.
“All the more reason we should go now. It’s too fucking far away to swoop in there at the last minute if he needs help, and if he’s up against these Ten Commandments guys—”
“Ten Komanda,” said Logan. “It means shadow team in Russian.”
“—all by himself, he might get his ass kicked,” finished Cowboy.
Jax nodded. “Agreed. I’ll come with you.”
Logan shook his head. “Your daughter’s christening is this weekend.”
“Shit,” said Jax.
Cowboy counted on his fingers. “Just give me Hawk, Doc, and the new guy, Austin.”
“I thought Austin turned you down,” said Jax.
“He did. But he’s about to find out how persuasive I can be.”
“I’d really like to stay here and work on these recordings some more,” said Logan.
“So fire up your gigantic laptop and get on the plane,” said Cowboy.
“The download speeds aren’t sufficient compared to how fast I can go here at headquarters.”
Cowboy dropped his chin and looked at Jax from beneath his brow. “The download speeds aren’t sufficient.”
Jax stood up. “Get on the damn plane, Logan. We need you.”
“Sir, I
don’t think that’s a good idea.”
Cowboy and Jax looked at each other, then looked at Logan.
“This could be important,” Logan said.
Jax pointed at him. “Not as important as backing up your teammate when he’s got his balls against the wall. Now move.”
23
Matteo and Grace were driving to the speaking engagement she’d taken over for her father. It had been a beautiful day up until about an hour ago, but clouds were moving in, darkening the landscape. He’d checked the weather before they left the house, the future radar showing their destination on the edge of a winter storm.
It was expected to rain, but it wouldn’t be cold enough for the icy mix or snow that was expected just to their north.
He stole a glance at Grace. “How is it to be out of the house without the baby?”
“I don’t know. I have moments where I feel blissfully free and unattached, followed by this yearning sort of desperation I can’t even explain. It’s weird.”
“You should try to enjoy yourself while we’re there. You don’t get to do enough for yourself these days.”
She looked out her window. “I’m worried about leaving Nico with a bottle. He’s not used to that.”
“I’m sure he’ll be okay.”
She didn’t respond. He was missing the mark, and he knew it. “I know it isn’t easy. I see how you two are together and I can only imagine how hard it is to be away from him.”
It’s going to be hard for me when it’s time to go.
She turned back toward him. “Thank you.”
“It will only be six or seven hours, tops. Are you all set for your speech tonight?”
“I am. I used to do this a lot during my father’s last campaign. I like politics, and I know he’s good for our country. My mom always encouraged me to help him. I think she wanted us to be closer.”
“What about you? Is that something you want?”
“For my father and me to be closer? I stopped believing that was possible a long time ago.”
Matteo decided to let that go for now.
They’d just reached the city limits when the rain turned over to sleet. Matteo frowned. If the temperature was dropping, they could be in for a hell of a time. It was too late now to turn around, so he kept his concerns to himself as they checked into the hotel Grace had insisted they book, claiming she needed a home base.
It took her an unusually long time to get ready, and they made it to the auditorium with only fifteen minutes to spare before her speech. Grace was calm despite the pressure, as if she did this sort of thing every day and could simply swing in on a rope dangling from a jet plane, give her speech to thousands of people, and swing back out again.
This was a side of Grace he hadn’t seen before. The businesswoman, the politician, and he was impressed.
By the time Matteo made it to his seat near the front of the auditorium, he was downright curious to hear what she had to say. Would she be mild-mannered and polite, or would she surprise him yet again?
A couple behind him was talking.
“I don’t care what the media says. He scares me.”
“Clearly, he is not being upfront about his plans for the future or his relationship with Russia. I’m just not sure Vasile is the answer.”
“I know. He’s getting old. Did you see him on the news last week? He’s not looking so good, either. I wonder if he’s sick.”
The man clucked his tongue. “I wish he was younger. You’d think they could come up with a better candidate who didn’t have one foot in the grave to fight Trane.”
“You’re still going to vote for him, aren’t you?”
“I’m not sure.”
The lights in the theater went down, and the couple stopped talking, but their comments bounced around in Matteo’s head for the next hour. He knew Vasile wasn’t well—even less well than he appeared in public, since at the house he was without makeup.
Grace was more than holding her own, clearly grabbing the audience’s attention while she went over her father’s plans if he was elected to another term. But from where Matteo was sitting, Grace was the one who was shining.
“I can speak to my father’s ideals because I share them. We all share them. We want to live in a free and independent state. We want our children to grow up knowing they are safe in a land that can defend itself from the hostile intentions hidden in an otherwise beautiful world.
“Because make no mistake, there are those with hostile intentions toward our country and if we do not actively resist the propaganda that is being fed to us as if it were truth, we will find ourselves living in a place we don’t recognize with ideals we can’t support.
“Victor Trane advocates for those in charge of our country to listen to the changes being suggested by Russia. Just listen. Let me ask you a question. Do you really believe all he wants you to do is hear them out? Of course not. His loyalty lies with Russia, and if he is elected, he will give control of our country to them.”
Applause erupted all around him, the crowd instantly on their feet. Grace had issued a battle cry that had resonated with every person in that room. Matteo could feel it.
“Now there’s someone I could vote for,” came the voice of the woman behind him.
Matteo furrowed his brow. Did Grace want to follow in her father’s footsteps into politics? He let his mind wander, considering the possibility.
What do you care? You’re not going to be here anyway.
That was true. Any future for Grace would not include him, and she would be a single mother—at least until she met someone she truly wanted to marry. Considering the situation with her father and the whole reason Matteo was here, he knew that would hurt her chances of succeeding in that arena.
He made his way backstage, rounding the corner of a long hallway to see Grace shaking hands with the throng of people who were clearly giving her congratulations.
She was glowing, and Matteo’s breath caught in his chest. He already knew she was beautiful, but now he’d seen inside her to her intelligence, wit, and sharp mind. Grace Vasile was the whole package, and he had the uncanny feeling he was looking at someone who would become an important figure in history.
She caught sight of him and smiled, making several heads turn in his direction to see who the lucky man was.
It’s her husband, of course.
Yes, no one here would find it strange that he was looking at her with such pride and admiration. Even if they noticed the spark of attraction that grew into a steady flame as he approached, it was all completely normal for a newly married couple.
He didn’t need to mask the attraction he felt for her, didn’t need to tear his stare away from the high color in her perfectly sculpted cheeks.
His body tingled with wanting her. He opened his arms and kissed her on the lips. “That was fantastic, honey.”
“Thank you.”
The flash of a camera went off.
His hand lingered on her, dropping to the small of her back when he moved to stand beside her. The final congratulations were made hastily, and then they were alone.
She turned to face him. “Thank you for doing that.”
“What?”
“Standing here and being my husband and front of those men. They are important people to my father.”
I wanted to do it.
“You did a great job out there. I’m proud of you.”
They fell into step beside each other and he took her hand as they went outside. Everything was blanketed in several inches of snow.
“Oh, no,” said Grace, pulling her hand out of his and her cell phone from her purse. She flashed a worried glance at Matteo. “What do you think the roads are like?”
“This was supposed to miss us. I’m sure it changes over to rain not far from here.”
The weather radar loaded on her screen, vibrant colors covering every part of it. She cursed under her breath. “We were supposed to miss this. It goes all the way back home.
What are we going to do?”
“It’s okay. We have the hotel room. We can stay overnight.”
“But the baby!”
There was such panic in her voice that concern pulled at him. “Is there enough milk for him at the house?”
“Yes, but…”
“Then he’ll be fine.”
“You don’t understand.”
“You’re being too hard on yourself. This isn’t something you can control.”
“He’s never been away from me for more than a couple of hours. He’s the one this is going to be difficult for.”
“I know. And I understand, really, I do. But look at this.” He took the phone from her hand and zoomed in on the pink area between the snow and rain. It covered most of their way back.
“That’s freezing rain. The roads have to be an ice rink, especially for the sedan.” He handed her back the phone, wishing he could do something that would erase the dejected look on her face. “I’m sorry. If it were just snow, I would get you back there, but we’re not going to be able to make it tonight.”
“Stupid ice storm.”
His arms ached to hold her, comfort her. He spoke before he could think better of it. “Do you know how often I want to put my arms around you?”
She looked at him with red eyes full of tears and leaned into him. His arms came around her. He kissed the top of her head. “It will be okay. I promise you.”
“I know. It just sucks.”
He held her for a long time, letting her be the first to let go. When she stepped back, she wiped her eyes and sighed.
“Do you want to get some dinner?” he asked.
“Can we go back to the hotel first?”
“Sure.”
Forty-five minutes later he was sitting on the hotel room bed waiting for her to finish getting ready. She’d already been in the bathroom for quite some time, and he couldn’t help but wonder what she was doing in there.
She eyed him sheepishly as she walked out. “Sorry. I had to pump.”