by T. K. Leigh
I hadn’t spoken to either of my parents since my mother’s phone call all those weeks ago. Dante didn’t want me to get mixed up in whatever my father may be involved in, and after stepping back and analyzing everything, I knew he was right. I should walk away. Part of me couldn’t help but wonder if Dante had an ulterior motive for wanting me to keep my distance from whatever this was, but when I saw the adoration in his eyes as he made love to me or shared plans for our future, I realized what that motive was… To keep me safe. To keep me alive. To keep me his. And that was the only thing that mattered.
“Every minute with you is something I’ll never forget,” I replied in earnest as the wind blew around me.
The aroma of the ocean mixed with wildflowers met me and I drew in a long breath. From this moment forward, this smell would remind me of home…of Dante’s and my first home together. Yes, both his apartment in Rome and villa in Tuscany would soon also be my home, but this was different. This was a house we picked out ourselves, that we’d both had a hand in designing, in deciding which room would best be served as the office and which would be the perfect library. Eventually, I’d leave my own mark on his other properties, but for now, I was giddy with excitement over finally seeing exactly how Beatrice was able to merge both our styles into a home I imagined we’d enjoy for years to come.
“Me, too, my beautiful Eleanor.” He placed a soft kiss on my forehead and my body fused into his even more. His hand on the knob, he met my eyes. “Ready?” He lifted a brow, a mischievous look crossing his face.
“It’s incredibly unfair that you got to see it already.”
“I know.” He lowered his lips to mine. “But I had to make sure everything was perfect for my queen.”
A subtle moan fell from my throat when he treated me to a simple, yet beautiful kiss. Our first kiss on the steps of our new home. Another first. I wanted to store all of these in a box of memories so I could look back at them and relive how I felt — the peace, the joy, the hope.
For years, I’d never had much promise for any sort of happy future. I simply got up each morning and went through the motions of what was expected of me. I studied hard. I graduated at the top of my class in high school, college, and law school. I passed the bar exam on the first try, which was a difficult feat, particularly out here in California. I went to work. I put in double the amount of hours at the law firm than necessary just to avoid going home to Brock. I never looked forward to what each day would bring, partly because I think I was scared of what my future held.
Now I hungered for that future with Dante. I had fantasized about it more times than I cared to admit. I pictured us waking up together every morning. I pictured us enjoying a delicious glass of wine as we watched the sunset. I pictured us laughing as Dante attempted to show me how to cook yet another one of his favorite dishes. I pictured us happy. I pictured us in love. I pictured us complete.
After a long pause, Dante finally pushed the door open and carried me into our new home. For the first time in my life, I actually felt like I was home.
He gingerly lowered me to my feet, his eyes glued to me while mine remained fixed on our surroundings, wanting to cry at how perfect it was. The house looked like a completely new space now that it was fully furnished, painted, and designed in a way to combine both our tastes. He liked things modern and angular, lots of grays, beiges, and whites. I preferred more non-traditional design elements, along with an occasional pop of color. Beatrice seamlessly married our two styles.
I stepped farther into the foyer, noticing that Beatrice had redesigned the winding staircase just off the entryway, removing the wood railings and replacing them with wrought iron. The hardwood flooring was replaced with a different shade, something a little bit more gray and modern, the walls updated with a fresh coat of paint. As I continued through the house, I marveled at how perfect everything was, right down to the floral arrangements used as accent pieces on the side tables and the knick-knacks set on the built-in bookshelves in the library.
The design flowed into the second level, each bedroom following the same color palette. Finally, we approached the closed door to the master bedroom, my stomach buzzing with anticipation as to how Beatrice had transformed this space. When Dante slowly opened the door, my breath caught. The bedroom was peaceful and serene. Beatrice had used softer colors, accented with a few beige tones. It felt inviting and warm.
Dante’s arms wrapped around me as I stood admiring the view from the panoramic windows. “I hope you’ll find peace here, that your nightmares will be a thing of the past,” he whispered against my temple.
We hadn’t discussed my nightmares…or, more appropriately, night terrors…since I woke screaming and told him about what I’d seen. I wanted to ask him if he’d witnessed any more episodes, but was too scared to hear the answer. I was petrified to learn I was slowly losing control over my mind, wondering what my own brain was trying to hide from me.
“Come,” he said, pulling me out of my unnerving thoughts. “Wait until you see the en-suite.” He led me toward the bathroom, my jaw hitting the floor at the complete redesign. It wasn’t in bad shape when we bought the house, so I just expected a bit of a touch up, not the entirely new space I now admired in awe. The tile counters had been replaced with one large slab of white-and-gray marble, the pattern matching that in the shower. But the focal point was the large claw-foot tub.
“Do you like?” Dante’s deep baritone cut through.
I immediately spun around, flinging my arms around his neck and kissing him. “It’s better than I could have imagined. You didn’t have to do all of this for me.”
“I told you from the very beginning… While you’re with me, you deserve nothing but the very best. And that didn’t stop simply because you’d given me your heart, your love. I promise to do my best to give you a reason to fall in love with me every single day, Eleanor.” He ran his hand down my face, tracing the line of my silhouette, as if imprinting it to memory. “You deserve nothing less.”
He gradually shortened the distance between our mouths, my knees growing weak when his lips finally touched mine. One hand tangled in my hair, the other supporting my back as he kissed me like he meant it, kissed me like he needed to in order to breathe, kissed me like it was the only thing that quieted his own demons.
A throat clearing sounded, startling me. I quickly pulled away to see Beatrice standing in the master bedroom, her arms crossed in front of her chest. “You two need to get a room,” she joked in her soft Italian accent.
“We have one,” Dante shot back, keeping his eyes trained on me. “And you’re standing in it. So, unless you want a show…” Lifting his brow, he passed Beatrice a devious grin.
She simply rolled her eyes. Apparently, having grown up alongside him had made her completely unpersuaded by his charms. “We go back to Italy tomorrow.” She stalked over to him and yanked his arm, tugging him from the room. “You can christen this place then. For now, we celebrate.”
I followed behind, giggling as small and slight Beatrice pulled tall and muscular Dante down the stairs. The second we emerged into the foyer, two excited voices exclaimed, “Zio Dante!” It was followed by two other voices shouting, “Auntie Ellie!”
A wide grin spread on Dante’s face as he rushed to his two nephews, hoisting Luca, the two-year-old, onto his shoulders as he tousled Angelo’s hair. I crouched down, giving Ashlyn and Harley each a hug and a kiss before offering a smile of welcome to Steven and Mila, who looked around in amazement. I had to constantly pinch myself, too. I couldn’t believe this house was mine, that I’d be spending my time in California here. It still seemed like a bit much, considering my only reason for wanting to spend any time here was Mila. But it warmed my heart that Dante valued my comfort so much as to go through all the trouble of giving me the house of my dreams close to my best friend.
“Mi piace la tua casa,” Angelo said to Dante in his small, five-year-old voice.
“What did he say?” Ashlyn as
ked.
Dante looked down at her, smiling. “He said he likes our house.”
“I like your house, too!”
“Grazie, Ashlyn.” Dante nodded at her, then looked back at Angelo. “And thank you, Angelo.”
“This house is amazing,” Mila offered. “And I haven’t even seen the upstairs yet. I’m not sure I want to. It might make me even more jealous.”
“Then you definitely don’t want to see the view from the master bedroom,” Giuseppe said, walking into the room holding a tray containing six champagne flutes and a few plastic cups filled with apple juice.
Once we all had our champagne and the kids had their juice, we raised our glasses. “Congratulazioni,” Giuseppe said.
“Congratulazioni,” Mila and Steven repeated, doing their best to mumble through the Italian word.
“Welcome to the family,” Beatrice offered.
“Grazie,” I said in response, not arguing that I wasn’t technically part of their family. It didn’t matter that I didn’t have a ring or Dante’s last name. I didn’t need those things, although Dante had joked we could go to the courthouse and have that taken care of so the name on the deed to the house would read Eleanor Luciano instead of Eleanor Crenshaw. Still, I felt closer to this group of people than I did my own mother and father. This was my family.
Mila slung her arm over my shoulders, squeezing me. “You deserve this, Ellie. I’m going to miss the hell out of you, but this is the right path for you. I know it.”
“Oh really?”
“Yup,” she responded in a very matter-of-fact voice.
“And how do you know?”
“Like everything else, it came to me in a vision.” She winked.
“You and your visions.” I playfully shoved her, then raised my champagne to my lips. “I think it’s the right path for me, too,” I added in a quiet voice.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
“YOU KNOW WHAT THIS reminds me of?” I said in a scratchy voice the following Thursday as I lay in Dante’s arms. The sun had begun to peek over the mountains, its brilliant rays sparkling and gleaming on the ocean in the distance as we remained in our castle in the clouds, content to forget about the real world for just a few more moments.
“What’s that?” Dante nuzzled my hair, pulling me tighter into his body.
A few tufts of chest hair tickled my back and I sighed at how perfect life was. Here, in a house I could have only dreamed of owning, enclosed in the arms of a man I could have only fantasized about falling in love with, I believed my troubles would never find me. I’d finally let go of my hatred toward my father and mother. I’d stopped focusing on how angry and bitter I was about my past. It didn’t matter anymore. My past led me to this moment. And I had never been happier than when I thought of what my future had in store for me…a future with Dante.
“Our last night in Rome,” I answered softly, my skin tingling as he ran a light finger along the curve of my body. “How we both tried to stay awake so we didn’t waste a second of our time together.” I turned around to stare into his eyes, trying to imprint everything about him to my memory. His strong cheekbones. His distinguished nose. His sexy five o’clock shadow. “How you made love to me as the sun began streaming into the bedroom windows and I couldn’t stop crying at the thought of it being the last time I’d ever feel you.”
He brought me closer, kissing the top of my head. “This isn’t the last time. It’s just three weeks.”
“I’ve gone three weeks without you before.” My throat grew thick at the thought of having to fall asleep without Dante tonight. What if I woke up screaming? Who would be there to calm the terrors that found me in the dark? “It was horrible. Even an hour without you seems like an eternity.”
“I know, amore mio.” He smoothed my hair behind my ear, brushing his lips across mine. “I’ll call you whenever I can.” He pinched my chin, forcing my eyes to his. “But I don’t want you to worry if a few days go by and you don’t hear from me. Some of the places we go are very far off the beaten path and don’t have cell service. We’ll have a satellite phone, but that’s not always reliable, either. I promise to let you know when I’m about to go off the grid, then call you the second I’m back in civilization. Okay?”
I swallowed back my tears. “Okay.”
“Just think of all the fun we can have with Instagram posts again.” His voice turned light, and I laughed at the memory of the months we spent tagging each other in photos. It seemed so long ago, but it was really only a matter of weeks.
“I miss that,” I said.
“Me, too. I’ll be back before you know it, then I plan on treating you to a Thanksgiving feast unlike any you’ve ever tasted.”
“You’re Italian. You don’t celebrate Thanksgiving.”
“No. But you’re American. So from now on, I will celebrate Thanksgiving, even if we’re not in America. And I hope you’ll celebrate some of my favorite Italian holidays now, too.”
“Like what?” I perked up. This was something I’d yet to consider. I’d been so consumed with the logistical side of moving to a completely different country, I never even considered all the wonderful benefits of doing so. Immersing myself in a new culture. Becoming fluent in a second language. Exploring all the different parts of the country. I’d been looking forward to finally starting this next phase in my life. Now I grew even more excited about the prospect of Dante sharing his world with me.
“Carnevale, Pasquetta, Ferragosto. Always big parties, big crowds, a big feast. We Italians certainly love our food.”
“I’m going to gain a hundred pounds when I move there, aren’t I?” I joked, my voice light.
“Don’t worry.” His mouth curved into a salacious smile, his eyes hooded as he stared at me with unyielding desire. “I’ll find ways of keeping you in shape. I’ve got quite a few ideas.” He pressed his knee between my thighs, forcing my legs apart as he climbed on top of me. “But I certainly wouldn’t complain if you gained a little weight.” Leaning toward me, his lips grazed against mine, the touch subtle, sending a shiver down my spine. Covering my stomach with his hand, he murmured, “In here.” He pulled back, the heat that filled his eyes replaced with sincerity. “I want to have a child with you, Eleanor.”
I sighed, wrapping my arms around his neck as I pulled him closer, kissing him. “I want that, too, Dante. So much.”
“So much,” he repeated, leaning back to position himself between my legs. I kept my eyes trained on his, unable to look away as he pushed inside, both of us letting out a moan, as if this act, this connecting of our two bodies, was the only thing that was right in the world.
“So much,” I said once more. His motions were slow, measured, deliberate, both of us taking and giving, tugging and driving, scratching and soothing. His gaze trained on mine, he slowly lowered his lips. He breathed into me, filling me, loving me as we said goodbye the only way we knew how.
~~~~~~~~~~
A CHIMING RIPPED THROUGH my small office on Friday afternoon. I smiled when I saw a text from Dante. The past thirty-six hours had been difficult as he traveled halfway around the world. But earlier this morning, as promised, he called the second he landed in Ethiopia.
Reaching for my phone, I opened his text.
About to go off grid. If all goes well, I should be back in civilization in two days. I’ll be thinking of you the entire time, wishing your lips were here to kiss me good morning.
Grinning to myself, I typed out a reply.
Just kiss you?
I stared at my phone as I waited for his response. After a few moments, it arrived.
There are quite a few other places I’d like your lips, but we’ll save that for when I’m home. These three weeks are going to be difficult enough without the daily reminder of how much my body craves you. Rest up, passerotta. If you thought your evening on the red carpet was exhilarating, that was just a warm-up for what I have planned for you.
Excitement flooded my veins as I read his words,
my heart drumming in my chest at the thought.
I eagerly look forward to your return home.
I sent my reply, then typed an additional text.
Game on, sir…
Good girl, passerotta. Be safe. Ti amo.
My heart warmed as I typed my response.
Sempre e per sempre.
“Hey, Elle.”
I jumped and shot my eyes to the doorway, inhaling a sharp breath when I saw Blake standing there.
“Sorry. Bad time?”
“No. No.” I smoothed my hair behind my ears, hoping my expression wasn’t flushed from my risqué texting session with Dante. “What’s up?” I looked at the file in his hands. “Is it about…?” I lifted a brow.
He simply nodded.
I hesitated briefly, unsure what to do. I’d promised Dante I wouldn’t look into this any further, but what harm would it do to see what Blake had found? Especially now that it seemed like he’d finally found something.
“Come on in,” I said finally.
“It’s not much.” He shut my office door and sat across the desk from me. “As I’ve told you, I haven’t been able to devote much time to this. I’ll be completely honest.” He ran his hands through his short hair, a bit of weariness crossing his expression. “This is becoming a bit of a spiderweb. There are a thousand strands going in every direction and I’m not quite sure where they all fit just yet. If this were an official investigation, I’d have a team of over a dozen people delegated to get to the bottom of it. That’s how complex this thing is.”