“Very good, Mr. Leone. We’ll get a baseline on her conditioning today and then tomorrow we’ll get started.”
“Wonderful, Carl,” he told the trainer. “Ciao, cara. I’ll meet you after your workout,” he said to Karianna, and then startled her with a kiss on her cheek, stroking her under the chin with his finger.
“Mrs. Leone,” Carl began.
“Please, call me Karianna,” she insisted. She couldn’t deal with “Mrs. Leone.”
“There are some workout clothes in the changing room, if you’d like to change. It’s going to be a bit tough today, so I can see what you’ve got.”
Carl was right. An hour and a half later, soaked completely through, she was shaking where she stood, wondering if she could make it to the shower. “You did very well today, Karianna,” Carl said, just as Mr. Leone came through the door.
“I thought she would,” he added, as Karianna glared accusingly at him.
“Now, cara, I think a shower is in order, and then some lunch, yes?”
“If someone can show me back to my room, a shower is more than in order. It is a necessity.”
“But cara mia, there is a shower here. Let me show you.”
“See you tomorrow, Mr. Leone,” Carl said as he left.
Through the dressing room, where she’d left her clothes earlier, there was indeed a shower room. Walls of shining stone tiles, stone floors, left rough so as not to be slippery, the whole thing from top to bottom was tile and shining brass. Soft lighting twinkled off the fixtures and a hint of exotic scent teased her nose.
Tired though she was, Karianna’s mouth dropped open, and she stared around her at the understated opulence. If this was the shower room for the gym, what must his personal bath be like?
“Come, cara, let me help you. Carl can be a cruel taskmaster.”
Strong, warm hands on her back gently slid her shirt over her head before she had a chance to figure out what he meant.
“Mr. Leone, what are you doing?” she asked, moving away and beginning to be concerned. Alone with this dangerous man, who now claimed her as wife, Karianna wasn’t sure what to expect.
“Mr. Leone?” he asked with a smile. “I think my wife could be allowed less formality. Please, my name is Damiano. A few of my very close friends call me Dam.”
“Damiano,” she tried nervously. “What are you doing?”
“You are tired, so I’m trying to be kind. Please, turn around.” Hands on her shoulders, he turned her around again, her back toward him, unfastened her bra, and laid it aside. In shock, she did nothing to prevent it.
“Was your late husband not kind to you?” he asked quietly, his hands now sliding her shorts and panties down to her knees. Without thinking, she finished kicking them off.
“Yes, Trae was kind. He just never undressed me in the shower room.”
“No? Well, maybe he had too many worries to be considerate. Now, fairly warm, yes?” he added, as he turned up the water.
The shower was marvelous. The warm water came from two overhead fixtures, as well as the front, back, and one side. Damiano put shampoo and gel within her reach and it frothed into luscious, thick foam scented with roses as she scrubbed.
“Later you can buy something you prefer,” he told her.
As she showered, Damiano leaned against the wall and watched.
“Um, why are you watching me?” she finally asked, uncomfortably.
“It’s not like I’ve never seen you naked, cara, or at least nearly so,” he replied. “You are a beautiful woman, and quite delicious to contemplate, with the bubbles caressing your skin.”
This did nothing to calm her nerves. She washed her hair, rinsed off all over one last time and turned off the water. Now, where was the towel?
Captured steam escaped through the shower door and into the room, as a hand emerged through the fog with a small towel.
“For your hair, cara.” She thanked him and dried her hair before wrapping it into a turban.
The next thing she knew, she was enfolded in a warm cloud of softness, held in place by strong arms. Not afraid, yet not quite comfortable, she struggled and said, “Please stop! I’m not ready for this.”
“I’m so sorry, Kari. I should have realized,” he said, sounding like he really meant it. “Once you’re dressed, we’ll have something to eat and talk about your role in my house.”
Damiano walked out of the shower room, leaving her to dry off and dress alone. What was she going to do? This man was powerful, dangerous and on the wrong side of the law. People who defied him disappeared from the face of the planet. Those who were merely an irritation wound up in the hospital, never truly whole again.
Now, he claimed her as his wife. Whether it was true and legal or not, going against him would be suicidal. Hadn’t Trae already died because of him?
Trae. Yes, he had been her husband, legally, but the love had gone out of their marriage ages ago. She had consulted a solicitor about a divorce before they came to Gambler’s Folly. Why she’d agreed to this “vacation” she would never understand. Just wishful thinking she supposed. Gambling had been Trae’s drug of choice. The high he got from it was what he’d lived for. And what he’d died from, eventually.
And Damiano? He was not all he seemed to be, somehow. Or perhaps he was much more. The atmosphere around him was one of warmth, confidence, self-control. Even when he was angry, the atmosphere was controlled. Dangerous, but controlled.
His hands on her were warm and strong, but gentle. Trae had always been awkward and kind of rough. He never had the time to just hold her. Whenever he touched her, which hadn’t been often lately, it was an advance toward sex. Not that this was bad, necessarily. But sometimes she had just wanted the comfort of his touch, without feeling obliged.
But Damiano, coming into the shower room, undressing and watching her, telling her she was beautiful, was a new kind of man. Of course, it could be the same thing with a bit of refinement. What would she do if he wanted to take her to bed when she went out? She wasn’t sure, but his touch had been exciting, arousing. His scent was sensual, but subtle. He was the most desirable man she’d ever met. While she hated him, she also knew that, in the end, she would have to have him. Physically, he was the only man she’d ever met that she had to have. Under other circumstances, she’d have been his already.
He had called her beautiful. As she looked over her reflection in the mirror, she tried to see what he saw. About 165 cm tall, she had a decent figure. Not what she’d call curvaceous, but she had curves. Her hair was just below shoulder length, dark brown—nearly as dark as Damiano’s—and ridiculously curly. With green eyes framed by long dark lashes, she had the classic peaches-and-cream complexion. She had never considered herself beautiful. Cute perhaps or pretty, but beautiful was for other women.
What was she going to do? She could play along for now and wait for an opportunity to escape. To where, she had no idea. She had no money. Trae had gambled it all away. She had no possessions. And Damiano Leone had his finger in every corner of Gambler’s Folly. No matter where she went on this world, he would find her.
Chapter 5
“Karianna, are you nearly ready?” she heard from the gym. “Lunch will be waiting.”
“Just a minute,” she answered quickly. She’d spent too long daydreaming about her future and now she was late.
“Sorry I kept you waiting,” she told him as she hurried out.
“You don’t need to be sorry, Kari. I wasn’t impatient, just curious.” He put his arm around her as they went to have lunch. Crystal and silver sparkled on white linen in a cozy little room full of light. Damiano held her chair before seating himself opposite her.
“I didn’t know what you would like, so I told them to keep it simple. Mangia, cara.”
Simple? Karianna had seen simple, and this wasn’t it. The white porcelain bowl held a lightly seasoned, creamy soup, with a wonderful mushroomy aroma. The salad was a work of art. It was a shame to eat it, after all
the work it had taken to arrange it so perfectly. Delicately seasoned greens were topped with paper-thin slices of tomato and cucumber, with other vegetables she couldn’t identify. Buttered asparagus, still firm, decorated the plate beside the juicy, heartily flavored slices of roast duck. This was all accompanied by a basket of freshly baked whole grain bread and a glass of white wine.
“I can’t eat all of this,” she said. “I’ll look like a balloon.”
“No, cara mia. Not with the schedule Carl has for you. You must eat, otherwise you’ll lose weight. Your weight is fine, you just need some toning. Please enjoy, Kari, you’ll be fine.”
The meal was excellent, and though they talked over lunch, nothing was discussed about what he expected from her. After lunch was cleared away, Damiano suggested coffee in his office.
The office managed to be serene and intimidating at the same time. Coffee served, Damiano looked at her and said, “Now, Karianna, we should talk about our arrangement. I know you are probably nervous and that is natural, since you don’t know what I require of you.”
“First, I don’t do windows, and I can’t cook worth a damn.”
Startled, Damiano took a moment to understand the joke. “Ah, you are funny. No windows! Cara, that is fine. There are no windows in my home down here, and I hire a chef for the cooking. Nothing to worry you.”
“Getting back to your earlier statement, I’m nervous about a lot of things, but that’ll make a good start,” she said. She’d always had an odd sense of humor.
“Very well. First, let me assure you that you are legally my wife. There is nothing you can do about that at this time, so please, don’t waste any time on it.”
“I would like to see some proof of that, if you please,” Karianna answered. “I can’t just take your word for it. While it may be true, it’s hard to accept.”
Damiano looked at her for a moment before reaching for the phone. “Paolo. Would you arrange for a clerk to bring a copy of the court records of our marriage contract for Karianna to view? Yes, the sooner the better.” Looking back at Karianna, he asked, “Satisfied?”
“Once I see them I will be. Thank you, Damiano.”
“My pleasure. Now, as to what will happen from here…” He stopped to think for a moment. “The marriage records are public and since I am a somewhat prominent figure, the whole public will know within a few days that I’ve taken a wife. The circumstances can be mitigated, but not the fact. What I propose to do, to give you more time to adjust, is to take a honeymoon trip.”
“A honeymoon? With you?”
“Yes, cara, but don’t worry. I will not force you into my bed. When you are ready, you will join me there, but not until. Capisce?”
“I guess,” Karianna answered, not sure if she trusted him to keep his word.
“It won’t be a public honeymoon. In fact, we won’t actually leave the city or my home. We can get to know each other a little better. You can take the time to get yourself suitably situated here, in my home. It can just be a week of relaxation for us, before you are on public display with me.”
“What does that mean, exactly?” she asked.
“In public, you will act as if you love me and are with me willingly. You will accept my small advances here in private, get comfortable with them, so that in public you react naturally, as my wife should.”
“What sort of advances?” Karianna asked, suddenly more nervous than before.
“Kari, cara, not to worry. My arm around you, your arm through mine, a kiss on the cheek. We will hold hands like new lovers, arms around each other. You may have to kiss me once or twice for the cameras. Just pretend I’m someone you like,” he told her.
“Cameras? What cameras?” What had she gotten into?
“The news media, you know, the paparazzi. When you are Damiano Leone, your life is subject to scrutiny,” he answered with a smile. Suddenly concerned, he asked, “Kari, are you alright?”
“Just a little, you know, light-headed. Could I have some water?” Karianna asked. He rang a bell and said something she didn’t hear.
“What is wrong, cara mia?”
“I hadn’t thought about cameras. I don’t really like cameras.”
“Why not? You are a beautiful woman and my wife. The pictures, they will be wonderful,” he told her.
“Damiano, I’m not beautiful. I’m passably pretty, but beautiful? No.”
“You make a joke, yes?” he asked, chuckling. “No, you are serious. Why are you not beautiful?”
“Look at me. My hair is too curly, my nose is not quite straight. My chin is pointy, eyebrows too thick. I don’t have those perfect curves you men like. My bust is too small, hips too wide…”
“Cara mia, stop! It is too much. Have you never looked in the mirror? Your late husband, did he not tell you how beautiful you are?”
“Trae? The only way I would have looked beautiful to him, is if I’d looked like a deck of cards, or a pair of dice. No, Damiano, he said I was cute, but that’s all. Not enough in the bust for him.”
Damiano stood and walked over to her. Setting her coffee cup on the table, he helped her to her feet and held her close. It was very nearly too much to manage.
“Karianna mia, how could someone who claimed to love you tell you such things? Why would you stay with a man who treated you so badly? Not enough bust? No, Karianna, it is perfect. Two perfect breasts, one to fill each hand,” he said, suiting actions to words.
“Dam, Damiano, please…” Karianna said, not sure whether to run or fling herself at him.
“No, please sit,” he said. “Let’s finish our talk.”
There was a knock at the door and a tall, powerfully built man of about thirty, who could have been a relative of Damiano’s, came in.
“Ah, Paolo. You have met my wife, but I don’t believe you’ve been introduced,” Damiano said to one of the men she’d seen with him before. “Kari, this is one of my closest men, Paolo. Paolo, Karianna.”
“Nice to meet you, Signora.”
“Paolo.”
“Mr. Leone, here are your marriage documents. This is Mrs. Leone?” She hadn’t noticed the scrawny little man who’d come in with Paolo.
“Yes, thank you. This is my wife, Karianna Leone. She just wanted to look over the documents.” Turning to her, he motioned her over. “Kari, darling, would you come and see if everything is correct?”
Karianna looked over the documents carefully. Damiano was right. According to the law on Gambler’s Folly, she was married to the planet’s crime lord for two years. There was no divorce clause in the contract, meaning that for the next two years, she was stuck with him, with no way out.
“Thank you,” she told the clerk. “Everything is correct. It’s just, my name is forever getting misspelled.”
“I understand, Madam, but it’s a beautiful name.” To Damiano he said, “You have chosen well, Mr. Leone. You have a beautiful wife. I’m sure you’ll both be happy.”
After the two men left, Damiano chose an apple out of the fruit bowl and got back to their discussion. “Nearly every evening, I go down to one of the businesses I own and walk around to keep an eye on things. I play a game here, a game there, have something to eat or drink. I like to have a definite presence around my concerns.”
“What does this have to do with me?” Karianna asked.
“This will be your main duty to me. You will accompany me now, in the evenings, once our honeymoon is over. It should not be too onerous a duty.”
“So you’re a gambler, too,” she stated.
Damiano laughed, finished the apple and shook his head. “Cara, no. I’m no gambler. I play a game here or there to make sure the play is fair. Yes, I have people who keep watch for me, and hidden cameras to check the tables. But the best way to keep things straight is to watch for myself. When people know I’m watching, they tend to watch themselves and each other.”
“How can you play, and yet say you’re not a gambler?”
“A gambler i
s someone who plays and hopes to win. A gambling addict is someone who must play, win or lose. The game is the reason for life. I care not if I win or lose, or even if I play. I play to be seen, that is all.” He reached for another apple.
“What the hell is with the damned apples?” The question exploded from Karianna’s mouth. She didn’t know which of them was the more surprised. “I’m sorry. I don’t know where that came from,” she said.
“No, it is a good question,” Damiano answered. “I have no other vices. I don’t drink, except for wine with a meal or before bed. I don’t smoke or take drugs of any kind. I don’t eat to excess. I don’t exercise more than is necessary to keep fit. I don’t gamble. So I eat apples.”
“Why apples?” she asked him.
“They taste good, they crunch nicely, and when I’m irritated, chewing them works out some frustration. It’s safer than a lot of things I could do.”
“Okay, I’m sorry. I just got distracted. So you want me to come down to the casino with you and do what?” She was confused.
“Just walk around with me, look interested in the crowd, make sure everyone knows you’re mine and happy about it. With me is the safest place for you right now. Paolo and Marco will be with us, too, with orders to keep you safe at all cost.”
“What about you?” she asked.
“Me, I can take care of myself, cara. Paolo and Marco can help, but they are mainly for show. They are nearly as skilled as I am, though, and I’ve made sure everyone knows how dangerous they are. What I’ve hidden is how dangerous I can truly be.”
“What happens during the day?” she asked. “What do you do with the rest of your time?”
“I have meetings with people about my businesses, I work out. Now, I can have lunch with my beautiful wife and spend time relaxing at home.”
“But what will I do, Damiano?”
“Carl will have you for about two hours each day. No, don’t worry. Most days are not as bad as your assessment. You can read, sleep, pick out some clothes. What would you like to do?”
Gambler's Folly (Bookstrand Publishing Romance) Page 3