The Secret One

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The Secret One Page 24

by Cardello, Ruth


  I nodded but knew it wasn’t true. Christof would have found a way, but I was grateful to have been part of the journey.

  “About tomorrow,” Christof said. “Would you like to come with me, Gian, and Dominic to find Nona’s radio? We could stay with the two of them long enough to retrieve the radio, make sure it works, then slip off somewhere we can be alone.”

  I smiled up at him. “Like a guesthouse?”

  “Are you a mind reader?”

  That or the feel of his cock hardening against my stomach was a clear hint of where his mind had gone. “You’re an easy read.”

  “Am I?” he murmured, nuzzling my neck again. “Is that a good thing?”

  I thought about all the men who’d danced around how they felt and relaxed back against Christof. “Oh yes.” Neither of us spoke for the next few minutes as we simply enjoyed the closeness. “I’d love to go with you tomorrow.”

  We exchanged a heated look that left us both breathless. No matter where this took us, I was glad I’d agreed to go to Italy with him. This experience was something I’d remember for the rest of my days. As I thought how the next day would start, I said, “Do you think the radio guy will be afraid when we show up with Dominic?”

  Christof took a moment to think about it. “We’ll bring wine.”

  “That’s all it takes?”

  “I’m hoping it’ll say, ‘We come in peace.’”

  Truthfully, I could see it working. “Nona’s stock?”

  “Absolutely. The family label used to be a big thing in the area. In the past we’ve offered to help bring it back, but she always said it would never feel like her wine until the grapes were grown on her soil. For the first time I can see that happening again. By returning the land, Dominic will breathe life back into the local economy. No one wants a handout, but Pia told me many cried when she told them land that was theirs for nearly a century will be returned to the family. I wouldn’t be surprised if by next year you’ll see the family label on the shelves in Romano stores.”

  “I’m so happy for all of them.”

  Christof smiled again. “I’m happy it all worked out.” He hugged me tighter. “And that we shared this.”

  I tensed. Was the trip over? “Me too.”

  “You don’t have to rush back yet, do you?” he asked.

  I expelled an audible breath of relief. “No.”

  “Would you like to play tourist with me?”

  Does he really need to ask? “Sure.”

  He chuckled. “I still have that surprise I promised you.”

  I lowered my voice. “Don’t even bring it up if you’re not going to tell me what it is.”

  His smile was shameless. “You’re going to love it.”

  “You know I’m not good at surprises.”

  He lowered his head so he could murmur into my ear. “How about I give you a chance to tempt the details out of me tonight?”

  Desire shot through me, and I writhed against him as I imagined all the ways I could. “You’re on.”

  The evidence of just how easy that would be pulsed against me. I shifted ever so slightly back and forth against it.

  “You’re going to get me smacked again,” he growled into my ear.

  Feeling young and free, I laughed. “I’m okay with that.”

  Our brief kiss went unnoticed in the happy chaos, and I wanted that moment to last forever. I couldn’t imagine life ever being better.

  Christof and I sneaked out to the guesthouse that night, and I realized it could. What we shared went beyond the sex I’d had with others. It went beyond even what we’d shared together. For the first time in my life, I understood what it meant to make love to someone.

  Yes, there was passion, but there was also laughter and tenderness. The connection I felt with Christof was so intimate, so moving, I almost burst into tears afterward. I didn’t, though, because I didn’t want to do a single thing that would bring any of this to an end.

  The next morning we woke in each other’s arms, showered together, then spent half the day with Dominic, Gian, and Alberto, who turned out to be distantly related to Christof’s family. A bottle of Nona’s wine was all it took for him to cautiously welcome them into his home. Even Dominic, though it took half the bottle for Alberto to stop frowning at him.

  After another night in the guesthouse, during which I did everything I could imagine to pry the details out of Christof, I grew suspicious that he liked my efforts too much to cave and tell me anything substantial. When I confronted him about it, he shrugged and gave me that adorable, shameless smile of his.

  I laughed because, although I wouldn’t admit it, I would have been disappointed if he’d told me. I loved that I’d found a man who was strong without being cold. I couldn’t push him; seeing him able to stand his ground with me turned me on like I had never been before.

  It was becoming difficult to imagine not having him in my life.

  The next day Christof flew me to southern Italy. Turned out his surprise was a VIP tour of one of the country’s most prestigious racing facilities and box seats for a race. So thoughtful. So Christof. Anyone who didn’t know me well might have thought the magic of the day would be in watching the race or in meeting the drivers. Christof took the day to a whole new level when he arranged for us to share a meal with one of the pit crews. That was when I knew Christof understood me, and I was overwhelmed by how it made me feel to have a man who was not just a lover but also a friend.

  The next few days flew by in a blur of lovemaking and touring. Via the private jet Dominic lent us, we had breakfast in Sicily one day, lunch in Rome overlooking the Colosseum the next, followed by dinner the next day on the Grand Canal in Venice.

  I imagined this was how a honeymoon felt.

  They were magical days, so perfect they didn’t feel real. I’d stepped into a Matrix-like dream where nothing was wrong and our engagement wasn’t fake. We didn’t talk about his family or mine. Neither of us addressed the future or where our relationship was headed. We kept our enjoyment of each other in the present, like two people who knew anything that good had to be savored because it couldn’t last.

  Late that Saturday morning I woke to Christof kissing my neck. “Wake up, sleepyhead. We fly home today.”

  I recognized the feeling that swept over me just then. It was the same a person had when they were having the most amazing dream and their alarm clock called to them to wake. We couldn’t stay as we were, but I wasn’t ready for this time together to end.

  Naked, I rolled onto my back and traced the strong line of his jaw. “What time do we have to leave?”

  His kiss was tender and full of promise. “There’s no rush, but I have a few things I should do tonight if I don’t want our family dinner to be a complete disaster.”

  Welcome back, reality. “Did you decide what you’ll do?”

  He lay back against the pillows but kept an arm around me. “I want to talk to my mother before I speak to Sebastian. She needs to know that I know. If that goes well, I’ll go see Sebastian. Gian has been texting me. He flew back to meet Dominic’s wife and child as well as his sister, Nicole, and her husband and child. It sounds like they’ve welcomed him into their family.”

  “And his biological mother?”

  “They didn’t mention her, so I didn’t ask.”

  “Do your parents know any of this?”

  “He told them where he was.”

  “How did they handle it?”

  “Dad’s . . . Dad. He takes most things in stride. Mom worries that we’ll lose Gian to them, but Sebastian went to see her and reminded her that family is about so much more than blood.”

  “So he knows as well.”

  “About Gian, anyway. Dad told him. There was no way not to once I told my parents I invited Dominic and his family to Sunday dinner. They know he’s bringing his sister, both spouses, and their children, but I didn’t say Rosella will likely also be there.”

  “That’s a lot to spring on you
r mother.”

  He sighed. “I’ll tell her tonight when I give her the letter. My mother might be upset at first, but I’ve never seen her not do the right thing. I have to believe she’ll be able to put the past to rest for Gian’s sake as well as her own.”

  I waited.

  He made no mention of how his parents would feel about meeting me for the first time. Of course he didn’t—our engagement wasn’t real. During our time together he’d shared his secrets with me, been better to me than any man had ever been, and given me memories that would remain with me forever—but he hadn’t said he loved me.

  Okay, one time as part of an expression, but never the way I yearned to hear it.

  I told myself it made sense for him not to invite me to that dinner. His parents and siblings knew our engagement wasn’t real. The pretense was only useful in Montalcino, not back home. I slid the ring off my left hand and held it out to him. “You should give this back to your mother at the same time.”

  He took the ring and for a moment looked as if he wasn’t sure what to say. My imagination ran wild with possibilities. What would I say if he slid it back on my finger and proposed for real? Did he have another ring handy? Would he thank me for being mature enough to understand that sex, even when indulged in as part of a fake engagement, didn’t necessarily mean anything?

  “I will.” He sat up and placed the ring on the bed stand behind him. At times I felt I could almost read his thoughts—this was not one of those times. He looked conflicted. Nausea rushed through my body. “I’m not looking forward to tonight or tomorrow. You’ve been so good about riding out the drama here. I can’t imagine you’d want to—”

  Oh God, I didn’t want to be the person who was so afraid of being left they left first, but it was as if I had stepped outside myself and was watching the scene unfold. I sat up and quickly cut in, “I completely understand. I’m actually anxious to get back to the garage. Ty is good, but I don’t like not knowing what’s in the works.”

  “McKenna, I—”

  I placed a hand over his mouth. He’d been honest with me every step of the way, nothing but extremely good to me. It wasn’t his fault I was a coward. Worse than a man who wanted to change me—Christof was someone I wanted so badly I feared I’d lose myself if I gave in to my desperation to hold on to him. So I let him go. “We had a great week together. That’s it. Don’t make things awkward.” I turned away and stood.

  He didn’t look happy, but I told myself one day he’d see that I’d actually done him a favor. “Come here,” he said in quiet command.

  “No.” I couldn’t do it.

  Naked and with his cock at full mast, he stood and came to me. My body quivered with excitement at his approach even as my thoughts darkened. “What’s going through that head of yours?” he asked.

  I didn’t want to want him. I wanted to feel nothing. I wasn’t a crier, but I wanted to throw myself in his arms and sob my heart out. Or punch him.

  He pulled me against him and lifted me and slid his hard cock along my already-wet sex. I was angry with him, angrier with myself. I couldn’t find the words to express how I felt, so I pulled his head down and kissed him.

  I ground against him, claimed his tongue with mine. His hold on me started gentle, but as I went wild against him, his touch became rougher. He backed up to the bed and sat. I took full advantage of our new position and the control it gave me.

  Without breaking off our kiss, I thrust my hips downward, thrusting him inside me, and began pumping furiously. Harder and faster. I took him deeper and deeper.

  There was no patience in me, no attempt to ensure he or I found full pleasure in the act. I wanted him to be no different than any man I’d ever fucked.

  It was wild, angry sex that brought me an orgasm I resented. He came soon after me, then held me tenderly because he didn’t understand that it meant goodbye.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN

  CHRISTOF

  On the flight home, McKenna pretended to sleep, but I knew she was awake and listening to music on her headphones. She was scared—I’d seen it in her eyes that morning, when I’d mentioned that we were going home that day. She saw it as an ending rather than the beginning it would be for us.

  We’d started off all wrong.

  I didn’t want her wearing an antique ring she’d put on as part of a ruse. Together, we’d choose something simple she could safely wear even while working on cars.

  I couldn’t wait to introduce her to my parents, but the conversation I needed to have with my mother wasn’t one that would benefit from an audience. And Dominic’s visit on Sunday—especially if he brought his mother—was not the way I wanted McKenna to meet my parents.

  She deserved to be welcomed as Heather and Wren had been—joyfully, with my parents standing in the doorway anxious to meet her, my brothers hovering in the windows. There was so much that could go wrong the next day that I wanted to shield her from.

  I’d almost told her that I loved her. Just before she’d jumped me, I’d been all about talking it out. Okay, maybe talking it out quickly and then fucking, but I couldn’t imagine ever waking with a naked McKenna in my arms without getting a boner.

  Still, the point was, I was ready to tell her how I felt—she’d made it clear, though, that she wasn’t ready to hear it yet. I understood why. McKenna was used to people leaving her. Her mother on purpose, her father to death. She was certain I’d leave her too.

  Just as certain as I was that I wouldn’t.

  And she loved me.

  Otherwise, why the anger?

  Side note: If that was how she fucked when she was angry, I was willing to commit to a lifetime of arguing with her. I could only imagine how good our makeup sex would be.

  And we would make up.

  More than McKenna needed a hasty proclamation of love she wouldn’t believe, she needed to see me at her garage on Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday . . . however many days it would take for her to believe I wasn’t going anywhere.

  Like my father, I was a patient man. I’d found the woman I intended to spend the rest of my life with. There was no doubt in me that we would work out. A Romano didn’t imagine having children with a woman unless they were meant to be.

  I tucked a loose lock of hair behind McKenna’s ear. Mauricio, Wren, and Gian already adored her. She didn’t know it yet, but her future would be full of loud, crazy Italians. My parents would spoil her as well as our children.

  Wren and Heather could commiserate with her on the days when being married to a Romano man wasn’t easy. We’d have our ups and downs, I was sure. All marriages did. But I couldn’t imagine my life without her in it. She’d become my best friend, my lover, and, God willing, one day the mother of my children.

  If she didn’t believe it possible at first, I’d woo her with my lasagna. Our family’s secret recipe. My mother used to cook it for neighbors or family whenever they were going through hard times. She joked that my father had fallen in love with her the day she’d delivered a pan of it to his family. He never denied that claim.

  McKenna opened her eyes and sat up, smoothing her hair as she did. “Are we almost there?”

  “Almost, although I anticipate a little turbulence before things smooth out.”

  She looked out the window. “Did the pilot announce something?”

  “No.” I just know you.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT

  CHRISTOF

  That evening I paced the living room of my parents’ home while waiting for my mother to return from an errand. “Dad, you did tell her I was coming tonight, right?”

  “I told her.” My father lowered his Kindle. “She said she’d be back soon. She just wants tomorrow to be perfect.” When I didn’t say anything, my father raised his Kindle again and resumed reading.

  That wasn’t unlike my mother. She was a pleaser. Sometimes to the extent that I worried she put so much thought into others that she forgot to think of herself. None of the next day would be easy for her. If I
could have spared her the stress of it, I would have. “Gian is flying up?”

  My father sighed and lowered his Kindle again. “Yes, we thought it would be easier since Heather is so close to her due date.”

  “Did Mauricio say anything?”

  “About?”

  “Anything?”

  “Christof, you’ve never been good with secrets; why don’t you just tell me whatever is on your mind?”

  I’d wanted to tell my parents together, but I couldn’t keep it in any longer. “Dad, I invited Dominic Corisi and his sister to Sunday dinner. They’re bringing their spouses and children.”

  “I know. Mauricio told us.”

  “What do you mean, Mauricio told you? He wasn’t supposed to say anything.”

  My father placed his Kindle off to the side and stood. “In that case, we have no idea that Dominic might bring Rosella. Your mother is not out shopping because she was too jittery to stay home.”

  So Mom knew everything. “How is she?”

  “Better than I would have expected, but she has had time to prepare herself. Opening the door to Dominic has naturally opened one to Rosella.” He sighed. “We all knew it would happen one day. It’ll work out.”

  “Will it?” I stopped and spun on my heel toward him. He was so calm it was impossible to believe he knew about Sebastian. If he had, wouldn’t he have been worried that Rosella would spill that secret as well? “How are you not worried?”

  “To meet Dominic? Or to see Rosella again?”

  “Either. Both.”

  My father walked over and put a hand on my shoulder. “Christof, I love my wife. I love the family we have made together. No one and nothing could ever change that. I’m proud of you. You went to Montalcino and gave Gian a brother.”

  “One he always had. If you knew all along, why didn’t you tell him sooner?”

  My father stepped back and dropped his hand. “That’s not easy to answer. I’ve asked myself many times when the truth is best told and when it is best withheld.”

  I was still asking myself that exact question in regard to what I’d learned about Sebastian. “And what did you decide?”

 

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