Shadow Warrior (The Shadow Series Book 4)

by Christine Feehan

  “She’s doing physical therapy on her shoulder and arm. The doc says she’s coming along faster than he’d hoped, so physically, she’s much better.”

  “And your relationship?”

  Vittorio knew Stefano wanted to know if there was a danger of Grace rejecting him. “The reference Eloisa inadvertently made in front of her to all of us needing women meeting a certain criterion set me back a bit. She asked questions I couldn’t answer immediately.” He made certain to keep his features expressionless when he wanted to smirk. Eloisa made mistakes and she would detest that, in her need to slam Grace, she’d been careless with her choice of barbs.

  Stefano turned cool eyes on his mother. “You actually made a reference to someone outside our family that could endanger us?”

  Eloisa nodded. “Yes. I apologize to all of you for such a slip.”

  Stefano drummed his fingers on the table. “Have you been to the doctor since Phillip died?”

  Eloisa sent him her blackest scowl. “I don’t believe that is any of your business, nor is it the business of anyone sitting at this table other than me.”

  Stefano leaned toward her, his eyes boring into her. “This is a business matter and when you start making mistakes, when any of us starts making mistakes that could jeopardize all shadow riders, that has to be addressed and you know it. You’d be the first one to demand it, Eloisa. You suffered a trauma. We all did. There are going to be repercussions to us. We train physically and mentally, but there is no way to factor in emotions. See a doctor. And I want a report. That’s essential. If you need counseling, get it. We have a rider here who is a counselor. She set up shop a few months back, as you well know.”

  Eloisa held his gaze defiantly for several seconds. Vittorio felt sorry for her. Having one’s son dictate after years of being the top rider in the family was most likely humiliating. Still, Eloisa knew he was right and she nodded.

  “Continue, Vittorio.”

  “I haven’t talked to her about what we do, but I will as soon as I think she can handle it.”

  “It has to be soon,” Stefano warned. “You’ve spent so much time together, it might already be too late.”

  At Eloisa’s swift intake of breath, Vittorio looked at her face. For the first time, she looked older. Eloisa was a beautiful woman and appeared far younger than her years. He knew it was already too late. He’d seen the way their shadows tangled together.

  “One last thing,” Stefano continued. “The victim at the hotel, Mrs. Lanie Kandar, was traveling alone. She has no children. Her husband was killed in a hunting accident about ten years ago and she never remarried. No other children. She lives and travels on the insurance money left to her as a result of her husband’s death. She had no known enemies.”

  Vittorio had been certain nothing would be found in the woman’s past that might explain why she was shot, but he was surprised about the boy. “If the boy wasn’t hers, who did he belong to?”

  “That’s a good question. The investigation showed the bullet that killed Mrs. Kandar was not fired by any of the policemen present. None of us fired the shot. The Saldis were inside the room, at least we thought they all were. If they had any others secreted around the hotel, they weren’t spotted by the security cameras.”

  Vittorio drummed his fingers on the arm of the chair.

  “Stop,” Eloisa hissed between clenched teeth. “That’s a terrible habit picked up from your brother. It gets on my nerves and I can’t think.”

  Vittorio immediately ceased but shot his brother a worried glance. Eloisa had always been edgy, but it seemed as if she was getting more so in the last months.

  “Did the police question the kid? He was closer to the shooter than anyone else, he might have seen something we didn’t.” When Stefano shook his head, Vittorio knew immediately what the answer was. “The police never found the kid, did they?”

  Stefano shook his head. “What are you thinking?”

  “He was small, but up close he looked older. Haydon Phillips assumes different personas. It could have been him.”

  “Working for the Saldi family? No way,” Eloisa said. “He tortured their enforcers. They’d kill him on sight.”

  “Working for himself,” Stefano said. “He couldn’t have known about the Saldi meeting with us. No one knew about it.”

  “Unless he had them bugged. I’m beginning to think he’s capable of anything,” Vittorio said. “On the other hand, it’s worrisome that he was on his way to the second floor rather than hovering outside the door of the conference room or trying to get close enough to one of us to kill us. What was he doing there? Especially if he didn’t know about the meeting between our two families.”

  Stefano handed his phone to Giovanni. “I’m headed home now. Vittorio, do your best to wrap this up with Grace. Get her on board.”

  Vittorio tried not to laugh. That was so like Stefano.

  Emmanuelle rolled her eyes. “She isn’t a boardroom, Stefano. She’s a person.”

  “Exactly. A woman. He has a certain reputation.”

  “Which is working against me at the moment.”

  “I have faith in you. I’m heading home. Ricco, put in a call to security at the hotel. I want a complete overhaul. I want floor by floor inspections. Let’s find out what Haydon was up to.”

  “We don’t know if it was him,” Eloisa pointed out. “We don’t want him to get us off our game and make mistakes.”

  “We have to go on the premise that it was Haydon,” Taviano said. “He’s a cunning little bastard, and he wants one of us so he can prove to Grace that he can get to her and anyone she cares about. He’s been terrorizing her since she was a kid, keeping her under his thumb. No way is he going to let her go.”

  “It’s all a game to him,” Giovanni said. “He thinks he’s the smartest man in the room.”

  “Maybe he is,” Vittorio said. “But that doesn’t mean he can win against all of us.”

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  Grace laid her head back and stared up at the explosion of stars. They were spread across the clear night sky, looking like glittering diamonds. Around her, small puffs of steam rose from the hot tub to drift lazily around her. Her shoulder ached from the laps in the pool she’d done in order to strengthen it, but there was satisfaction in knowing she was finally able to actively work on repairing the damage.

  Vittorio picked up her foot, put it in his lap and began massaging the sole and toes, relaxing her further. He had a way of touching her that relaxed her body immediately. He’d made love to her dozens of times. The moment he could, he had his staff leave, and he loved to strip her naked, or have her dress in very beautiful, elegant, but transparent lingerie. She learned very quickly he liked looking at her body.

  “You do know, if I were to get pregnant, I’m not going to look the same.” It came out before she could censor.

  His long fingers continued the massage, and silence ensued. She looked up cautiously and met his eyes. There was always that moment when she first made eye contact where she had the sensation of being held captive. She knew, no matter how long they were together, how many years passed, every time she looked at him, she would feel that same thrill, have that same sensation of a slow somersault in her stomach.

  “Where did that come from?”

  His tone was strictly neutral. She was coming to understand, Vittorio never got ruffled. He was always calm. Always centered. He spoke in that soft, low tone that carried absolute command, but he didn’t raise his voice.

  She gave what she hoped was a casual shrug. “I was just thinking about how much you like to look at my body. After Merry leaves, the first thing you like is for me to strip, or to put on a see-through but gorgeous outfit.”

  “Does that bother you?”

  Vittorio tipped his head to one side and his hair fell across his forehead. Whenever he did that, she always had the urge to push the wayward strands back. She indulged herself. He touched her often and in intimate places. When they walked
, he always had his hand on her hip or the small of her back, sometimes on the cheeks of her butt. She hadn’t yet been brave enough to claim him by voluntarily touching him unless they were having sex. Then she indulged her needs. Right now, she felt very brave reaching out and brushing at his hair with her fingertips.

  He lifted his head and caught her finger in his mouth, drawing it in to suck on it. Her stomach plunged. Rolled. Heat exploded deep. Her sex clenched. She would never get enough of him. Never. He was the most sensual, gorgeous man in the world and she still couldn’t believe he was hers. She kept waiting for the proverbial shoe to drop.

  His tongue curled around her finger as he drew it out of his mouth. “The question requires an answer, gattina.”

  She had to wrack her brain to remember the question, that was how easily he could make everything go out of her head. “I like that you want to look at me,” she admitted. She did, but it took getting used to. “I never thought of myself as beautiful. I think, like most women, I see every flaw I have, so at first, I was a little uncomfortable.” She still was uncomfortable, especially if he laid something out—like tonight—that was something she considered risqué. Still, it didn’t matter. If he wanted her to wear it, she would, because she loved to see the look on his face when she complied with his wishes. Pride. Approval. Pleasure. Possessiveness. He looked at her as if she was the most beautiful woman in the world.

  “You have flaws?”

  She laughed. “I’m not pointing them out to you if you’re blind to them.” She couldn’t imagine that, since he saw every little detail.

  “I like when you wear what I’ve bought for you. It especially meant something to me tonight. I know you were a little reluctant when you first put it on, but you looked so sexy, you took my breath away. Thank you for at least trying it.”

  Hearing the ring of sincerity, she hugged his compliment to her. She felt she didn’t give nearly enough in their relationship. He was always giving to her. He had smiled a lot less after the meeting with his family days earlier and she’d done her best, without knowing what was causing him undue strain, but so far, she didn’t feel as if she had succeeded in lightening his mood. Wearing lingerie seemed a small thing to give back if it pleased him.

  She looked at the small table where the leather outfit was folded neatly and waiting for her to reclaim it after she got out of the tub. She’d done her laps naked and was still without clothes in the hot tub. She was fairly certain Vittorio would have been comfortable in a nudist colony, and he was slowly getting her to be the same way.

  “I like giving you the things you ask for,” Grace admitted. “Although you don’t ask me for much.”

  “As for you getting pregnant, Grace, you know I want children. Having a family of my own is important to me. Having said that, if, like Francesca, you have problems, or you can’t have children, I would much rather go through my life with you and no children than alone or with someone I didn’t feel this way about. Have no worries. I will love your pregnant body as well as any changes that come after.”

  “And if I gain a ton of weight?”

  He shrugged. “I guess we’ll both be doing a lot of swimming if it bothers you. Whatever it takes to make you happy. You want to lose it, I’ll instruct Merry to make meals that will help and I’ll exercise with you.”

  She believed him. “I think you’re so perfect, Vittorio, that I can’t believe you’re real.”

  “No one is perfect, Grace, least of all me. I’m a Ferraro, remember? Our lives aren’t anything like people believe them to be.” His voice was pitched low. Compelling. Almost sad.

  Grace knew that was the truth. Vittorio was completely attentive to her. Totally focused on her. She would never have believed him capable of only being with one woman, not when he had the worst reputation ever. She had read so many tabloid stories on him it was ridiculous, and he wasn’t anything at all like the stories she’d read about him. He wasn’t wild, nor was he a partier. He seemed serious most of the time and he was completely devoted to her.

  “Something is wrong, Vittorio. Why don’t you just tell me?” she invited, hoping he would tell her whatever had happened at the family meeting that had gotten him so far down.

  “Not in here. Let’s dry off and go inside. I could use a drink.”

  That shocked her. Alarmed her. Vittorio drank the occasional Scotch, but it was rare. He had a glass of wine with dinner, but no more. If anything, he avoided alcohol.

  She stood up the moment he let go of her foot. Whatever was wrong, she was determined to help him. Water poured off her body, ran down her skin in little rivulets. Drops caught on the tips of her breasts and held there for a moment, catching Vittorio’s eye. He leaned down and licked at her nipple, sending a shock of electricity running from her nipple straight to her clit. He got out of the hot tub first and then put both hands on her waist and lifted her out. When he lowered her to set her on her feet, he licked over her left breast and then suckled for a moment, his teeth and tongue wreaking havoc and leaving marks on her fair skin.

  Grace stood while he dried off her body. He always dried her off after a shower or bath, his hands gentle but arousing, the towel sliding over her curves and inflaming every cell and nerve ending in her body until she felt like she might die if she didn’t have him.

  He handed her the small triangle that was nothing but leather laced together. The thong disappeared between her buttocks and the tiny triangle was partially open where it laced together, showcasing her fiery curls rather than hiding them. The black leather corset was cupless, just cord lacing up the front with straps and buckles up the back and a buckle that went around her neck.

  Vittorio buckled the corset in place and then reached around her to cup her breasts as they thrust out of the two holes. He tugged and rolled her nipples until they were standing up for him. She felt boneless and wanton, her body needy for his. She was instantly slick. Blood pounded through her clit and pooled low. Her skin was flushed and her breathing ragged.

  Vittorio was always sensual, and he made her feel sensual. The way he looked at her made her feel beautiful. It was an unfamiliar feeling to her, but one she wanted to keep. He made her aware of her body at all times, that he was masculine, and she was feminine.

  They walked inside and then down the wide hall to the first sitting room. The views of the lake were beautiful. There were glass sliding walls on three sides of the round turret, and she could look out in any direction and see a wide expanse of water.

  Vittorio used the remote to start the fireplace and indicated one of the deep, very comfortable-looking chairs. She sank into the seat and all but sighed. She had the feeling that she could live there for months without knowing what each individual piece of furniture was like or what each room was used for. She was always discovering new things, almost as if she was on a great adventure.

  “This house is so incredible, but it’s really what you’ve done with it that makes it so special.” The house was intricate and complex with the sprawling mix of styles, the turret and patio beneath it the center, and the arms going out in either direction. Inside, Vittorio preferred simplistic designs, sometimes almost stark, but his décor worked and was always the most comfortable, with chairs she wanted to sink into and just stay in.

  “I’m glad you like it. I was hoping you would.”

  “How could I not?” She brushed back the tendrils of red hair spilling around her face. She’d put it up in a topknot, the way she did whenever she was going to take a bath or sit in a hot tub, but it was already trying to slip loose.

  The moment she lifted her hand to her hair, her breasts rose and fell, drawing his immediate attention. Grace held her breath, watching his eyes, watching the way the firelight caressed his face. He looked haunted. She leaned toward him, uncaring that her breasts spilled forward, swaying with her every movement.

  “Vittorio, I can tell something is wrong. Just please tell me. If you’ve changed your mind, I won’t lie, it will break my heart,
but saying it straight out is far better than me having to guess.”

  Vittorio sat back in his chair and steepled his fingers. “Why would you think that, Grace? Even for a minute? You should have every confidence in yourself. Surely I’ve managed to convey how much you matter to me.”

  The disappointment in his voice and on his face brought the unexpected burn of tears. His response wasn’t exactly a reprimand, but he was right, and she felt the sting like a lash. Of course he’d be disappointed when he’d done nothing but show her that she meant the world to him. There wasn’t a moment that they were together that he wasn’t touching her, kissing her or telling her she was incredible.

  He made it very clear he respected her job. He was unfailingly kind to Katie and always left them to their work after making certain they had refreshments. As the Midnight Madness charity event was coming up very fast, things were getting intense. Grace had to see to a multitude of details, as she always did before any event, large or small. Vittorio, no matter how busy, and he had an office he worked out of—although she didn’t know what he did—always saw to her comfort as well as that of her guest.

  “Grace?” Vittorio prompted. “Tell me where this insecurity is coming from.”

  He deserved an answer, she just wasn’t certain she had a clear one for him. “I’m sorry, Vittorio. You certainly aren’t the cause of my insecurities. I was just thinking, as we came here from the hot tub, that you make me feel so feminine and sexy.”

  “You are feminine and sexy.” His voice was dark with lust. “You’re also clever and smart. You’re strong. You’re the epitome of a woman, and I know I’m extremely lucky to have you. I want you to get to a place where you know that, too.”

  She nodded, knowing he wouldn’t like that she didn’t give him a verbal answer. Vittorio required a spoken answer so there was no miscommunication. He didn’t ask many things of her and answering shouldn’t be that difficult—but she didn’t always know why she withdrew and curled into herself.