by Jane Porter
Jillian sat with her hands clenched in her lap. For a moment she felt nothing. Not even panic. And then slowly her head filled with noise, a buzzing sound that became a roar.
He’d found something out. Something important. Otherwise why would he want to call her parents personally? Why would he be so determined to speak to them, introduce himself, meet them personally?
Instinct and self-preservation told her that this wasn’t a courtesy call. This phone call had nothing to do with playing the gracious bridegroom. He was cementing his power.
He was ensuring security.
He was going after the truth. And he was going after the truth because he didn’t trust her.
Smart man, she thought, swallowing around the lump in her throat.
Blinking back hot tears, she stared blindly out the car onto the fields dotted with stone walls as they drove the rest of the distance in agonizing silence.
Pulling up before the castle, Vittorio shifted into Park even as Jillian was throwing open the car door and jumping out. “You’re down to forty minutes, Jill. You have forty minutes to decide what you want to do. I’ll be in the library waiting for you.”
“I’ve nothing to tell you!”
“That’s a shame. Because you have so much to lose.”
Jillian turned and ran up the steps into the house, and didn’t stop running until she’d reached the nursery where Joe was sleeping.
Maria put a finger to her lips when Jillian burst into the room. The shades were down, darkening the room and Jillian nodded as she continued to the crib. She had to see Joe, had to see him as only then could she believe everything would be okay.
Jillian stared down at him, taking in his flushed cheeks and his rosy lips. He’d never looked more angelic. “Did he have a good day?” she whispered to Maria.
“Yes. He played and played and he ate a lot and we also went for walks.”
Jillian’s chest squeezed. She longed to reach out and touch him but she didn’t dare wake him. Instead she smiled at Maria and went to her room, where she changed from her navy striped top and slacks into a simple white linen dress. She ran a comb through her hair and then turned away from the mirror. Don’t be scared, she told herself, heading for the stairs.
Reaching the library on the second floor, Jillian wiped her now damp palms on the sides of her dress before opening the library door. “What do you want to know?” she asked.
“Everything,” he said as she stepped into the room.
She closed the door behind her before approaching his desk where he’d been typing something on his laptop computer. “But you know everything.”
“Do I, Jill?”
“Yes. I have no secrets. My dad’s a jerk. My mom’s weak. My sister’s dead. What else is there?”
“Then who, cara, is Anne? And Carol? And Lee?” He caught her expression and smiled grimly. “Yes, my wife of many identities. Who are you really?”
“How long have you known about the different identities?”
“Since yesterday. But I had suspicions before.”
She nodded. “Then you know everything…”
“I don’t know why, and I don’t know who you were before you went into the government’s witness protection program, but I have my suspicions.”
Jillian startled and he nodded. “I’d wager this castle that your father is linked to organized crime,” Vitt continued, “and I’d bet my Lancia that he’s a mob boss from Detroit, a man who confessed everything he knew to the FBI to save himself from going to prison.”
He smiled and gestured to the phone. “Now I just need you to confirm it for me.”
She swayed on her feet. “I can’t, Vitt.”
“Can’t or won’t?”
“Both.”
“Then I will, and once I call them, and let them know you’re here with me, I’m confident they’ll tell me what I need to know—”
“They won’t.”
“Not even if they think you’re in trouble?”
She laughed. “God, no! They didn’t when Marco kidnapped Katie, so why would they do it for me?”
“Is that how your sister died?”
She made a low tormented sound. “The tragic thing is that they didn’t even want Katie. They wanted my father. But my father wouldn’t dream of sacrificing himself for anyone else, much less his daughter.”
“And so she died.”
“In a car bomb. Can you believe that? She thought she was free to go. She thought she’d escaped the danger. Instead they blew her up as she started her car.” Jillian dragged her fist across her face, rubbing away tears before they fell. “The police called it an accident. But everyone on the inside knew it wasn’t an accident. And so the government stepped in and Mom and Dad were moved to yet another location. I didn’t change my name, but I did change jobs, going from Switzerland to Turkey.”
“And it was in Turkey you met me.”
She nodded. “I thought you were perfect for me, too. Until I discovered who you were. So I ran. Just as I’ve been running for my life ever since I was twelve.”
He rose from behind his desk and went to her, caught her hands in his and drew her toward him. “You don’t have to be afraid—not here, not anymore.”
“I wish I could believe that. I really do.”
“Why can’t you?”
“Because bad things happen when we let our guard down. Katie let her guard down—”
“You’re not Katie,” he interrupted, lifting her hand with her wedding ring to his mouth and kissing her ring finger and then her palm. “You will never be Katie, and I promise that nothing will happen to you if you trust me. I can protect you. And my family will protect you. Always.”
Her gaze clung to his. She wanted to believe him, she really did, because she needed to believe in someone, needed to believe the world could be a good place, and a safe place. Her world had often felt very dark and harsh and cold and yet whenever she was with Vitt, she felt warm.
She felt safe.
“Kiss me,” she whispered. “Kiss me and make all these bad feelings go away.”
“That’s the smartest thing I’ve heard you say all day,” he murmured, lifting her face to cover her mouth with his. He kissed her slowly, deeply, lips drawing from hers an immediate and almost feverish response.
She needed him.
She needed him desperately.
For the longest time she’d felt as if she was drowning but maybe he could save her. Maybe he was strong enough, smart enough…
Hope blazed to life. Hope and heat kindling into hot desire.
With his mouth on hers, Vittorio walked her backward across the library until she felt the dark paneled door against her hips.
He leaned past her, turned the lock on the door, and then moved closer, his tall, lithe, firm body pressing into her.
She loved the feel of his body against her and the warm hard ridge of his erection rubbing against her inner thighs. She wanted him and she groaned against his mouth.
“Careful, cara, or I will take you here,” he warned, teeth nipping at her soft, swollen lower lip.
“Good,” she answered, her body trembling with need.
“Don’t tempt me,” he said, his warm breath caressing her skin as his lips brushed the curve of her ear and then lower to the tender hollow below. “Because I’m dangerously close to losing control.”
She turned so that her lips brushed his. “Lose it.”
“Don’t say that. You don’t know how I feel. I’m angry, Jill, I’m angry and frustrated and I don’t want to hurt you—”
“I’m not afraid of a little pain.”
“Stop it,” he growled. “Don’t talk that way.”
“Then take me and make me forget everything but you and me and being here together right now.”
“I cannot fight you, and me.” He tugged the hem of her white linen dress toward her hips and put his hand between her legs. “But don’t say I didn’t warn you.”
Jillian fe
lt as though she’d burst into fire on the inside. Her body felt wild. Her nerves explosive. She arched against Vittorio, demanding more.
He stroked over her cream silk panty, stroking the soft feminine shape of her.
She gasped and tipped her head against the door, giving herself over to exquisite sensation as hot, silvery shots of electricity burst through her, tightening her nipples and melting her core.
He lifted the edge of the panty, moving beneath the thin satin band to slide his fingers beneath the fabric, to run his fingers against her, then between the folds to the softest, warmest part of her. His fingers felt slick against her, which meant she was wet. Very wet.
Her mouth dried as he rubbed her between two fingers and she rocked helplessly against his hand, responding with not just her body, but also her heart.
With him she was safe. With him she was home. There could never be any other place she belonged but with him.
“You’re mine,” he ground out, his voice husky in her ear. “And I’m going to fill you and make you mine, and you will always be mine.”
“Yes.” Because of course she was his. She’d always been his. It was inevitable from the very first meeting in the hotel lobby. Fate brought them together, and it was up to fate to keep them together.
She heard him unzip his trousers as he freed himself, and then with one hand he pressed the head of his hot, hard erection against the wet entrance to her body.
He teased her for a moment with the tip, rubbing it across her wetness, and then up and down over her softness until she panted with need. And once she moaned his name, he plunged inside of her, filling her all the way.
She sucked in air, and held it bottled in her lungs as her heart seemed to burst open inside of her.
She loved him.
She did.
He and Joe were everything. Life, breath, hope. She circled his neck with her arms, pressed her lips to his. “I need you forever,” she whispered.
“You have me forever,” he answered.
Tears burned her eyes. “Promise.”
“I promise.”
“No matter what?”
“No matter what.” He lifted her against the wall, hooking her leg over his arm to thrust into her even deeper, stretching her, filling her, making her one with him.
She gasped at the fullness of them together, overwhelmed by the warmth and the dizzying emotions and intense sensation. He thrust into her again and again, and with each thrust she knew he was making her his.
But then he’d known from the very beginning that she needed this hard, physical coupling to feel loved.
Making love with Vittorio always made her feel loved, but she needed it now more than ever when everything felt so unpredictable, when their connection felt so fragile.
She buried her fingers in his cool, crisp hair, pressed her face to his neck, her lips to his warm fragrant skin, aware of each long, measured stroke of him taking her, filling her. With each thrust he edged her closer and closer to that point of no return, pushing her past reason and control until she shattered in a thousand pieces. He climaxed as she came, and dipping his head he covered her mouth with his, swallowing her scream in a kiss.
CHAPTER TEN
WITH one arm still braced against the wall, Vittorio slowly withdrew, and struggled to catch his breath as Jill slid down the door to sit in a boneless heap on the floor.
Tucking himself back into his trousers, he drew up the zipper knowing his body had found release but his emotions were tangled, pleasure diminished by sorrow.
She’d been through so much. She’d lived through chaos and betrayal, grief and pain.
Her pain hurt him. He should have comforted her, not taken her savagely against the wall.
He understood why she used sex as a paste or plaster to smooth problems over, but why did he? He knew sex solved nothing. Sex just masked problems until they revealed themselves again.
Dark, wrenching emotion filled him as he glanced down at her. She sat on the floor and leaned against the dark paneled door. Her thick blond hair tumbled over her shoulders in disheveled curls, her white linen dress was creased around her slim hips, and her long bare legs stretched before her making her look fragile and so very vulnerable.
Because she was vulnerable. Heartbreakingly vulnerable. And now that he understood her secrets and pain, he wondered how she’d endured it. How she could lose so much—family, friends, home—and yet be so strong. So determined to make a good life for their son.
His lingering frustration morphed into admiration. She was such a fighter. Such a complex woman. Intelligent, sensual, mysterious, stubborn. Very, very stubborn.
His chest tightened as his gaze met hers. She looked up at him with enormous eyes. Whether she had brown eyes, or blue eyes, pink or purple, it didn’t matter. They were beautiful. She was beautiful. And he had never wanted her more.
Or needed to protect her more.
She did need him, too. He understood that now. She needed him not just for protection, but love, and patience and compassion. Jill was battered and bruised from fourteen years of fear and intimidation. It would take time for her to learn to trust people again. Hopefully she could trust him.
Hopefully she understood that she was safe with him. Hopefully she understood that here in Paterno she was finally safe. Home.
Crouching next to her, he buried his hand in her tangled curls and gently lifted her face to his. Her eyes shone, glimmering with tears.
“Don’t cry, cara. No one will hurt you ever again. I promise you that,” he said huskily, angered that her father had failed to protect his daughters, angered that the government had failed to protect her sister. “I will protect you. I will always protect you.”
Emotion darkened her eyes. “But you don’t even know who I am.”
He stared deep into her eyes, looking so intently that he felt as if he could see the shy little girl inside the woman. “You are Jillian d’Severano. Joe’s mother and my wife.”
Her eyes turned liquid and she blinked hard. “Would you feel the same way if you knew my father was Frank Giordano?”
For a moment Vittorio couldn’t breathe. His mind darkened. Frank Giordano was the scum of the scum. A man so selfish and self-serving he’d turned on his own organization to keep himself from serving time. “Frankie’s your father?”
She nodded and tears clung to her lower lashes. “I’m sorry.”
“Not your fault,” he said, voice sharper than he intended. He’d wondered these past two days if she was possibly related to Frankie Giordano. He’d hoped, even prayed she wasn’t. There was a lot of bad blood between his family and Frank Giordano. Very bad blood. His father would be sick that Vitt had married Frank’s daughter.
“You’re upset,” she whispered, reading his expression.
“You didn’t commit any crimes, Jill. You are not responsible for your father.”
“But I am.” She ground her teeth together. “I am responsible for my family’s name, just the way you are responsible for yours. And I know I’m not the kind of person your family would want you to marry. I know they’d be horrified to discover Joe was the grandson of Frank Giordano—”
He cut off her tortured words with a kiss because he couldn’t bear to hear more. Because she was right. His family had fought for twenty years to escape the taint of being connected to the mafia, and having the daughter of Detroit’s most infamous mob boss be Vittorio’s wife wouldn’t help the d’Severano reputation, but Vitt had chosen her because he loved her.
He loved her.
The truth exploded within him, searing his mind and heart. He’d loved her all this time. It was love that drove him to search for her after she disappeared without a word from the villa in Bellagio. It was love twisted with pain when he discovered that Jill had given birth to a son.
He knew the child was his.
Just as he’d known from the first time he spotted Jill in the hotel lobby in Istanbul that she was meant for him.
&nbs
p; Her lips quivered beneath his and her mouth tasted salty from her tears.
“Shh.” He comforted her, his hand cupping her face, caressing her warm flushed cheek. “It’s okay. I promise you, everything is okay.”
“I will always be a danger to your family,” she whispered against his mouth, her voice faint, unsteady.
He drew back to look into her eyes. “You are not a danger—”
“There are bad people out there, Vittorio. Bad people who are determined to find my father.”
“Then they’ll have to go through me, cara, because they cannot have you. They can not touch you. I make that promise to you as a d’Severano, and a d’Severano always keeps his word.”
She gazed up at him, torn between hope and concern. “Will your family feel the same way?”
“This is my home. You are my wife. If anyone in my family has a problem with you or your past, they don’t need to come here—”
“Vittorio!”
“I mean it. Yes, I’ve worked hard to restore the d’Severano honor and fortune, and I will never regret the sacrifices I made to take care of my family, but my loyalty is to you, and our son.”
Jill reached up to lightly touch his face, her fingers infinitely gentle on his cheek and jaw. “You really mean that?”
“I do.” He nodded and rose, and then held a hand out to her to assist Jill to her feet. “And while I don’t like keeping secrets from my family, I don’t think it’s necessary we share your background with everyone at dinner tonight. I’ll find a way to break the news, and I will do it soon, but this evening isn’t the time.”
“I’m meeting the family tonight?”
He nodded, his mouth quirking. “My sisters are having fits that they haven’t met you yet, and my father is very eager to meet my wife. It’ll be a large group—uncles, aunts, cousins—can you handle that?”
She nodded. “Yes.”
“Good.” He unlocked the door, started to open it, then stopped. “So what is your real name, since we know it’s not really Jill Smith?”
“Alessia,” she said softly. “But I haven’t been Alessia for fourteen years. I’m Jillian now, and that’s who I want to be.”