No Promises: A Bad Boy Billionaire Romance

by Michelle Love

  Christo shook his head. “Telly’s pretty cut up.”

  “Oh, god, I’m so sorry. Without him helping me…” Her voice trembled and her eyes filled with tears. “Poor Gerry. Poor Telly.”

  Christo smoothed his hand over her forehead. “I will be forever grateful. And speaking of which…”

  He reached into his robe pocket and brought out her necklace. Noosh smiled, holding her head up so he could fasten it around her neck. She touched the dragonfly. “Did you ever see –”

  “You signaling me? Not at first, but when I did…god, Noosh, at that moment, I knew you loved me. I knew you needed my help.”

  “Our safe word worked.” Noosh pressed her lips to his, lingering over the kiss. “Hey,” she said, her eyes hopeful, “when do you think they’ll let us out of here?”

  Christo chuckled. “Baby. You need to recover before we even think about sexy times. Don’t rush it, we have the rest of our lives to get down and dirty. You are going to marry me, right?”

  “Christofalo Montecito, are you really proposing like that?” Noosh faked her outrage, making him laugh and giggling herself, wincing when her stomach muscles protested.

  “Yes and no. Believe me, when we both are out of here and healthy, I’m going to propose properly in our villa in Italia, when my cock is buried deep in your beautiful cunt, I’ll ask again.”

  Noosh groaned, “Dude, you’re making me so horny.”

  Christo grinned and slid his hand under the blanket, and Noosh sighed as his fingers made contact with her clit. “Let me help you out with that,” he murmured, his lips against hers, and he stroked her into the most mellow orgasm.

  Endorphins flooded her system, and Noosh gazed up at her lover with shining eyes. “I love you so much.”

  “I love you too, my sweet darling. Rest now, baby, soon we’ll be in Italy….so very soon.”

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  It was the way he had imagined it all those months ago when she was gone. Christo stood in the doorway of their villa and watched Noosh as she stood at the cliff edge, looking out to sea. The Mediterranean sun had turned her already caramel skin a deep russet, and her hair, long, thick and lustrous, hung in a dark curtain almost to her waist.

  It had been a year and a half since Destry Papps had died, and every day since then, Christo had fallen even more in love with Noosh. Her bravery, her resilience, her huge heart. She had returned to work at the radio station and told her true story, knowing that people wanted to know. To Christo’s amusement, she had interviewed his father, and become his father’s buddy, always giggling together whenever the family was gathered.

  Christo and his father had become closer than Christo ever believed they could be, and he credited Noosh entirely for that. Fogliano had all but turned into a legitimate businessman, cutting ties with some of the seedier contacts and turning towards more charitable pursuits.

  Christo pushed away from the stone doorway and went to her, sliding his arms around her waist. Noosh leaned back into him, turning her head for a kiss. “Hey, gorgeous. Our last day.”

  “Ha,” he nibbled at her earlobe. “Don’t put it like that. Say the final day before the wedding and we’re inundated with family and friends. Say it’s the last time we can call ourselves single people. Say it’s the last day that we have to wait to call each other Mr. and Mrs.”

  Noosh giggled. “Mr. and Mrs. Montecito. I like the sound of it.”

  Christo pressed his lips to her temple. “You know, I could take your name.”

  Noosh smiled. “You are sweet, but I will be proud to be a Montecito.”

  Christo was unbelievably touched, and he gave a bemused laugh. “I never thought I would hear anyone say that.”

  Noosh turned in his arms and gazed up at him. “There’s a lot to be proud of, Christo, especially these last two years. I hope…I hope so much that you realize that.”

  “If there were a way to tell you just how much I love you, Noosh, I would say it, but there are no words.” He kissed her tenderly then grinned. “Hey, kiddo, how about marrying me?”

  She laughed. “What about tomorrow?”

  “Done.”

  Christo grinned widely and swept her up into his arms. “Did you know, in this part of Italy, it’s traditional for the bride and groom to make love for the whole day the day before their wedding?”

  Noosh giggled, her arms locked around his neck. “Are you making that up?”

  “Oh yes, but it’s still going to be true today.” Christo grinned down at her.

  In their bedroom, a warm breeze was blowing through the sheer white drapes, billowing at the windows. Outside, they could hear the crashing of the waves on the rocks on the shore. They kissed softly as Christo unbuttoned her dress, sliding his hands inside to cup her breasts, to stroke her stomach as Noosh pushed his shirt aside. They took their time, undressing each other slowly, until – naked – they tumbled to the bed.

  Christo covered her body with his, hitching her legs around his waist, his huge cock nudging against her sex. “I’m sorry, baby, I can’t wait.”

  Noosh grinned as he slid into her, sighing happily. “Never apologize for that, baby. God, that feels so good. Deeper, baby, deeper.”

  She rocked her hips up to meet his, allowing his cock to plunge deep inside her. Christo’s eyes never left her face as they moved together. “I’ve never seen a more beautiful sight than your face when we make love,” he murmured, trailing his lips along her jawline and thrusting harder.

  Noosh tangled her fingers in his hair, crushing her lips against his as they made love, his cock growing even harder inside her as they fucked, letting themselves go, their animal need for each other feral and uninhibited.

  She felt him come, sending thick streams of creamy white semen deep inside her. Noosh felt her entire body vibrating with ecstasy, that incredible feeling of being somewhere between life and death, utterly lost in the man she loved. “Ti amo, ti amo,” she whispered in his native tongue, and Christo smiled down at her.

  “Bella Anoushka, my love, my heart.”

  Noosh woke on the morning of her wedding day and felt one hundred percent different to her first wedding day. She felt alive, vital, and almost sick with excitement. There would be no hurried City Hall wedding for her and her beloved Christo. She turned on her side and watched him sleep – they’d had no time for the old custom of not seeing each other on their wedding day. He was almost forty now, only a few weeks away, but he looked no older than his late twenties. She cupped his face with her palm, tracing her thumb over his cheek, marveling at his physical beauty. It was only made more appealing by his kind heart. She barely recognized the man who had taken her and then thrown her out of that club in New York all those months ago.

  “We’ve been through so much, baby,” she whispered it, so as to not wake him, but he opened those brilliant green eyes of his and smiled at her.

  “I can’t wait to begin the rest of our lives together, my darling Noosh. Good morning, beautiful.” He leaned over and kissed her, gathering her to him. His cock was already hard, and she grinned as she pushed him onto his back and straddled him.

  “Happy wedding day, gorgeous,” she said, guiding him inside her.

  They made love quietly, drinking each other in until they both looked at the clock regretfully. Their wedding planners would be here in less than an hour.

  Christo waited until Noosh’s mother, Preeti, had borne her daughter off to get ready for the wedding before he got Bertie. Bertie was leaning against the outside wall, watching Noosh’s father, Bernard, and Fogliano chuckling with each other over a bottle of very expensive scotch. Bertie nodded at them as Christo joined him.

  “I hope Noosh knows she might have to support her own dad while he staggers up the aisle. Those two are already three sheets.”

  Christo grinned. Noosh’s father was a quiet and staid man, but he had hit it off immediately with Fogliano, much to everyone’s surprise. Their friendship had eased the potential dif
ficulties of being unable to pay for his daughter’s wedding himself – something Christo and Noosh had worried about. Fogliano had taken Bernard aside after their engagement party.

  “My dear Bernard, there is something I must ask you, from a father to a father. Noosh tells me that you have always provided for her, no matter how strained things became, that she never wanted for anything. I see it in her personality, her warmth, her love. She credits you and Preeti for it. I wish I could have been that person for my son, especially after my wife died. But I was not, and I will spend the rest of my life trying to make up for it. Which is why I ask you now for a favor. Please, Bernard, let me pay for the wedding. It is such a small thing for me, but it would mean the world.”

  Bernard Taylor had known the other reason for Fogliano to say this to him, but he was grateful that Fogliano went out of his way to make it seem as if Bernard were doing him a favor.

  Now, Christo took Bertie aside. “So, the farmhouse?”

  Bertie grinned. “The new buildings will be finished by the time you and Noosh get back from India. The contractors we chose are superb, I’m glad to say. Leave the rest to me, buddy.

  “Thanks, man.” Christo smiled with relief. “She’s going to love it.”

  Bertie laughed aloud. “You and Noosh both. Now, let’s get you ready.”

  Preeti helped her daughter into a beautiful white sari, a nod to Preeti’s heritage that Noosh had insisted on. “I know you’d love me to have a traditional Indian wedding, Mum, but I think this is a good compromise, isn’t it?”

  Preeti kissed her daughter’s cheek. Noosh was almost her mother’s mini-me – same warm beauty, soulful brown eyes, and caramel skin. “Darling, after the few years you have had – we have had – I wouldn’t care if you were married in a trash bag.”

  Noosh laughed, then studied herself in the mirror. The sari, delicately decorated with dark gold beads, fit her body perfectly and made her dusky skin glow. “A fusion wedding,” she grinned, and Preeti laughed.

  “Well, your grandmother is already in the kitchen with the caterers – god help them if they mess up the curry dishes.”

  Noosh giggled and hugged her mother. Preeti had been remarkably resilient, even in the face of her own abduction and torture. Noosh had confided in her about killing Destry, how odd and distressing it had felt to take another person’s life. She told Preeti while she didn’t regret killing that monster, she didn’t want her mother to think any less of her for being a killer.

  Preeti had held her daughter in her arms and whispered in a fierce voice, “Nothing, nothing could ever change my feelings for you, my precious one. You did what you had to do. You saved us all, my darling.”

  Noosh remembered that now as Preeti wound her hair up into a loose bun at the nape of her neck, then fastened the wedding jewels in her hair. “I love you, Mum.”

  Preeti looked close to tears. “I love you too, Anoushka. I’ve never been as proud as I am of you today.”

  Noosh blinked back her own tears. “Mustn’t ruin your great make-up work.” She grinned at her mother with shining eyes.

  Preeti touched her cheek. “You never needed much. Your beauty shines from inside you.”

  A tear did escape then. “I get it from my mum and dad,” Noosh said softly.

  The moment was ruined by the alarm clock making them both jump, then laugh. Noosh looked at Preeti and gave a shaky sigh. “It’s time.”

  “It’s time.”

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  Christo’s world became all about the beautiful woman walking towards him down the aisle. For a moment, it was as if every moment of their relationship flashed past his eyes – that first meeting at the club, their fraught parting, seeing her at the radio station and feeling utter shock and overwhelming delight as he saw her face again. The anticipation of their lovemaking as she recovered from the shooting, the miracle of their love. The horror of her stabbing, of feeling her life slip away as he held her in his arms.

  They had made it. And now, in a few short minutes, they would be bound together forever.

  Bernard placed Noosh’s hand in Christo’s, and Christo shot his almost-father-in-law a grateful smile before turning his attention to the women before him. Noosh smiled up at him, her face radiant with joy and love.

  “God you’re beautiful,” he whispered and without thinking, pressed his lips to hers. A ripple of low laughter went through the gathered company, and Noosh giggled.

  “I think we’re supposed to wait to do that part,” she said in a stage whisper, and Christo laughed.

  “Oops.”

  Laughing, they turned to the priest and in no time at all, the vows were spoken, rings were exchanged, and they were married.

  “Now you can kiss her,” the priest laughed, and they needed no encouragement as their friends and family burst into cheers and applause.

  “We. Are. Married.” Noosh said it again, still not believing it as they settled onto the private jet ready to take them on their honeymoon to India. She grinned over at her husband. “How very grown up.”

  “Really quite spiffy,” he said, teasing her, and she stuck her tongue out at him and giggled. Christo leaned over to kiss her. “Wifey.”

  “Hubby. Listen, how long do we have to stay belted in?”

  “Just until we take off. Why?” But he was grinning – he knew exactly why.

  “I had planned on today being one of the days where we slip away for a quickie, but it didn’t turn out like that.”

  Christo laughed. “We almost got lucky…until your mother found us.”

  “The look on her face was priceless – and a little admiring.” Noosh sniggered at the memory of her mother catching Christo with his pants around his ankles. “I don’t think she bought our explanation that you were just, um, rearranging your underwear.”

  “Good god, I will never be able to look her in the eye again.”

  “She only saw your perfect bubble-butt – and she is still a woman. I swear, she looked at me with new respect.” Noosh was enjoying his discomfort.

  “Just for that, I’m going to do things to you that she definitely wouldn’t approve of.”

  Noosh wriggled impatiently as the plane began to taxi along the runway. “Well, you’d better. What did you have in mind?”

  “Oh, no.” He shook his head. “Show, not tell, today, Mrs. Montecito.” He let his fingertips drift up and down the inside of her thigh until she moaned, wanting him to touch her sex, but he merely grinned and wouldn’t. “Have patience.”

  As the plane took off, they gazed at each other, then the moment the seatbelt light pinged off, Christo released his belt. “Stay where you are,” he said in a low voice as he moved onto his knees, spreading her legs and settling between them. He tugged at the belt of her ruby-red dress.

  “I remember this dress. You were wearing it the first time I saw you. God, when I saw you, so innocent, so vulnerable in that seedy club, I wanted you so badly.”

  Noosh smiled down at him, her eyes full of desire. “I never dreamed I would do something like that, but the sadness in your eyes…not to mention your gorgeous face,” she giggled, “and I could not have resisted for a moment. I still feel like that…except now the pain has gone.”

  “For both of us.” He pushed aside the fabric, revealing her underwear, her soft skin. He pressed his lips to each of her scars – her war wounds, she called them – then looked up at her. “You blow my mind, Anoushka Montecito. My life began when I met you.”

  “As did mine,” she said. Christo kissed from her belly to her breasts, then caught her lips with his.

  “Noosh, every inch of your body is golden, heaven, and made for fucking.”

  Noosh colored but smiled at the compliment. “Then fuck me, husband.”

  Christo smiled wickedly. “All in good time…for now, I want to taste your delicious cunt.” With one movement, he ripped her panties from her, making her gasp at the quick pain, and lifted her buttocks. He smiled one last time befo
re burying his face in her sex.

  Noosh gasped as his tongue lashed mercilessly around her clit, and he slid two fingers into her sodden cunt. He brought her to an almost unbearable climax, leaving her shivering and trembling. He swept her up into his arms and to the bedroom at the back of the plane.

  Noosh tore at his clothes, ripping open his shirt and taking his nipple into her mouth, nibbling and flickering her tongue around it until she felt it harden. She trailed her lips down his flat stomach and took his already tumescent cock into her mouth. Hollowing out her cheeks as she sucked him, drinking his seed down as he bucked and jerked beneath her.

  Christo flipped her roughly onto her back and pinned her hands above her head. Noosh’s breath quickened as she saw the dangerous desire in his eyes. He pushed her knees up to her chest and launched his cock into the red and swollen cunt. Their eyes locked as they fucked, not two beings now, but one, completely united in their love.

  They fucked until they were exhausted, then fell asleep in each other’s arms. When they awoke, the plane was flying over the subcontinent. They landed, and once they were through customs, Noosh grinned at Christo. “Now,” she said, “time to introduce you to my heritage.”

  The honeymoon was as full of love, laughter, and exploration as they had planned, but the day Christo would never forget was the day they traveled to Agra to see the Taj Mahal. Christo hadn’t been prepared for the majesty, the beauty of the tomb, and he knew Noosh was watching him for his reaction. He looked down at her. “There are no words.”

  Noosh smiled. “I know.”

  “Have you been here before?”

  She nodded. “When I was a kid. I didn’t get it then. I mean, it’s beautiful, and I knew the story of Shah Jahan and his love for Mumtaz Mahal…but I couldn’t imagine a love like that.” She took his hand. “I do now.”

  Christo was too moved to speak, and so Noosh led him around the mausoleum, telling him the love story between the Shah and his wife. “It’s a full moon tonight. They allow night viewing…want to stay?”