Her breath caught in her throat. Vittorio Ferraro was barefoot. She had never seen him in anything but his three-piece suit and exquisitely polished shoes—at least she didn’t think she had. Had she been too self-absorbed to notice him dressing informally in his own house? She glanced down at her own feet. She had clothes in the closet, thanks to him, but she hadn’t thought about shoes. She normally wore heels to work, but at home, she was much more casual, preferring bare feet, but that was because after wearing heels all day, she couldn’t stand anything on her feet.
Vittorio was wearing faded denim that looked soft and vintage, with a few real threadbare spots, as if he’d owned the jeans for a very long time. They were button up versus having a zipper and the top button was undone. They rode low on his hips and shaped the powerful columns of his thighs. She liked his casual look. His shirt was tight, stretched across his thick chest, as if every muscle was straining to break free.
She searched for something to say that made sense, so she wouldn’t blurt out how much she liked his casual clothes. “I need to call my boss.”
“That would be a good idea. Katie has called several times, mostly to inquire about your progress, but I could hear a sense of urgency in her voice this last time.”
She liked that he didn’t protest her needing to check in with her boss. She didn’t want to think he was trying to take over and control her life. “I’ll call her after breakfast.”
She made an effort to pay attention to where they were going. The house was so big with so many doors that she was really afraid if she was left on her own, she’d get lost. Already, she could smell freshly brewed coffee.
“I missed half the rooms we passed because I was looking at your feet.” If he didn’t have her hand pressed to his ribs, she would have slapped it over her mouth. So much for not blurting out ridiculous things.
“I’m looking at yours. I think my feet are at least twice the size of yours. Maybe more.” There was amusement in his voice.
His ability to find humor in things was one of the most endearing traits about him. She flashed him a smile and then regarded their feet as they walked along the gleaming floor. He was right, her foot was probably half the size of his. “How tall are you?”
“At least a foot taller than you,” he pointed out.
She made a face at him. “I suppose I’ll have to concede you’re right about that. I can’t argue facts.”
“You never argue with me.” Vittorio turned her hand over and pressed a kiss into the center of her palm. “I like that you don’t pick a fight just for the sake of argument.”
“It would be a little difficult to do that with you. You’re pretty reasonable, Vittorio.”
He led her into a very large kitchen. There was a small, intimate table already set with dishes and warmers. He led her straight to it and pulled back her chair for her. “There are three dining areas. This one, which is perfect for the two of us in the mornings,” he told her, seating her. “The two larger dining areas have varying views. One is a bit larger than the other; in other words, if my family comes over, we use that one.” He flashed a small grin at her.
His smile was warm, impossible to ignore, and did something to her insides, making her feel happy. Happiness wasn’t something she was used to feeling and it shocked her a little. “You have a very large family.” The women came and went very quickly in the morning, helping her to shower and dress and then they simply were gone, disappearing as if they’d never been.
“We’re loud and always in one another’s business,” he pointed out. “But we always have one another’s backs.”
The way he said it, she wondered why they would need to stand for one another—as if they had problems similar to hers. She doubted they had had a serial killer after them until she’d brought one with her.
Before she could remind him of Haydon stalking them all, he turned the conversation back to his earlier subject. “Do you really think I’m reasonable? Not every woman would think it was reasonable that I need to take care of my lady. In fact, I think most wouldn’t like it, Grace.”
She looked up at his face. There was a hint of worry there and that shocked her. Vittorio was the most confident man she’d ever met, and in her profession, she routinely met CEOs of powerful businesses. Such men didn’t worry about what other people thought. They did what they thought best and expected everyone else to get with the program. And yet the look in Vittorio’s eyes told her that, to her at least, he was vulnerable—that her good opinion mattered to him. On the heels of that realization came the immediate and compelling need to reassure him, to erase that hint of doubt.
“Vittorio, I love the way you are with me. For my business, I make decisions all day, argue with vendors and push and push to get what I want for my clients. By the time I go home, I think my brain is fried. I don’t want to make another decision or think about anything until I go to work the next morning. I imagine most people are like that. You’ve given me this opportunity to actually relax and I appreciate it more than you will ever know. It’s been a relief not to have to think too much about anything. I realize that’s unrealistic and that sooner or later I have to come to some decisions and take back charge of my life, but for right now, it’s been the most amazing three weeks in spite of the pain in my shoulder, so thank you.”
Vittorio had opened the warmers sitting on the table and poured coffee for Grace. He straightened slowly and looked down at her upturned face. He wanted to frame her face with both hands and kiss her senseless. She had no idea what a gift she’d just given him. She was the one he’d searched for. She was the one he hadn’t believed could possibly exist. She had strength, a backbone of steel, and yet she could put herself in his hands and give him what he needed in their relationship.
He couldn’t help himself. He leaned down and took her mouth, one hand settling in her hair, bunching the silk into his fist. At the first touch of his lips, the first demand of his tongue, she opened for him and he tasted everything he’d ever need. He’d kissed a lot of women, more than he ever cared to admit, but he’d never felt. Not like this. Not this shocking hunger that consumed him. Not a need that would never be sated.
Her taste was unique and appealed to him on every level. She didn’t have a lot of—if any—experience. He had never considered that he would ever be with an untutored woman. His demands were too intense, his passion too consuming, yet he couldn’t imagine kissing anyone else ever again.
He was careful with her, keeping the kisses light when he wanted to devour her. Very reluctantly, he released her hair, and then lifted his mouth from hers. Her lashes lifted, and he was staring into her eyes. She had beautiful eyes. Large, a beautiful green, framed with thick long lashes that curled at the tips. He couldn’t resist brushing a kiss across her eyes. Reluctantly releasing her, he pulled the lids all the way off the warmers.
“Why is it unrealistic?” He indicated for her to make her food choices.
She stared at him, her eyes still adorably dazed. “Unrealistic?” she echoed.
It was all he could do not to smile. “Yes, gattina. You said it was unrealistic not to have to think too much about everything. Why would that be unrealistic?”
She frowned and indicated the scrambled eggs and toast. He put a small portion on her plate. She hadn’t eaten much, so he didn’t want to overwhelm her with a large amount of food.
“I can’t keep relying on you for everything, Vittorio. I’m getting stronger and I’m going to have to start figuring things out.”
He lifted the cream and she shook her head. It surprised him that she didn’t take cream in her coffee. “Why not? I like you relying on me.”
“It would get very old fast.”
He took a healthy portion of eggs, bacon and hash browns. “No, it wouldn’t. In our home, I would want you to feel as if you can rely on me. We both know you’re capable of making your own decisions, but why should you have to if you prefer me to make them?”
She looked a
s if she might protest, but then she forked a small bit of eggs awkwardly into her mouth. Her dominant hand clearly was the one with the shattered shoulder. She chewed and swallowed before she tilted her head and looked at him. “For you, I meant. That would get old for you.”
“Some men need to take care of their women. It isn’t politically correct for a man to dictate in his household. I’m well aware of that, but I’m one of those men. I want my woman to know she can rely on my judgment. I want her to trust me to make the decisions.” He gave her his preferences cautiously, knowing it was unpopular, but he couldn’t change the way he was wired.
She gave him her frown but looked more thoughtful than condemning. He liked that about her. “Vittorio, are you looking for blind faith?”
“Of course not. That would be foolish and you’re far too intelligent to be foolish. Trust has to be earned. I hope that happens between us over time. I’m well aware I’m asking for far too much in our relationship, but I still hope you’ll give it thought. I’ve been making the decisions for the last three weeks.”
“Out of necessity, and I’m really, really grateful. I wouldn’t have known what to do without you . . .” She trailed off and looked down at her eggs, as if realization was dawning on her.
He watched her eat her eggs almost gingerly. It clearly took effort to keep them from spilling off the fork and more did than not. He couldn’t take watching her struggle. “I don’t in any way think you can’t do things for yourself or that you’re inept, but I enjoy doing things for you.” He took the fork from her and pulled his chair closer.
“I feel a little silly with you feeding me.”
He leaned down and brushed another kiss across her lips to stop them from trembling. “Grace, I want to discuss this with you, but you’re going to need an open mind. I want our engagement to be real and I want you to think of it that way. You’ll need to stay here with me no matter what for a while and we can take that time to really get to know each other. You can get to know my family.”
“I think you’re moving too fast, Vittorio. It must have been very upsetting to have me run in front of a gun when clearly you’re a very protective man.”
He could tell she chose each word carefully, as if she was afraid she would upset him.
“But I think if you take a step back, you’ll see that your lifestyle and mine in no way mesh. I love my job, and I’m good at it. It’s the only thing that’s kept me sane all these years. You’ve had a lifetime of travel, adrenaline and women.”
He knew it would come back to the women. “I’ll admit that my family has played out our lives in the tabloids—but it’s all for show. I never gave who I am to any of those women. What would be the point? So they could sell what they knew to the nearest tabloid? Think about that, Grace. Think about how much damage you could do to my reputation if the things I will share with you were to be splashed all over the newspapers, headlines, media. I’m a businessman. My family owns international banks. Hotels. You name it, we’ve got it. I’m a very private man and I expect what we share between us to remain private.”
Her gaze moved over his face, searching for something. He’d given her the truth and he hoped she saw, because he always intended to give her the truth. There were going to be stumbling blocks, but he hoped he could guide her successfully over every one. Wariness had crept into her eyes. She was getting that he didn’t want a normal relationship.
“Are you opposed to trying an engagement with me?”
Her eyes dropped, but not before he saw the fear. He couldn’t blame her. He was asking for a hell of a lot of trust on her part and he wasn’t making it easy. She was in his home and she couldn’t leave. It wasn’t as if she was a prisoner, but if she left, she’d be giving Haydon Phillips access to her and she wasn’t in any state to fight him off.
She visibly took a breath and he had to resist pulling her into his arms to comfort her. “The thought scares me,” she admitted.
“Grace.” He waited, letting the silence stretch out between them. Finally, she sighed and lifted her gaze once again to his. He smiled at her, proud of her for showing her inevitable courage. He knew, even better than she did, that she was extremely brave. “Tell me why it scares you.”
The tip of her tongue touched her top lip and then her teeth bit down on her lower lip. She swallowed once. “You’re everything I could ever dream about in a man, but it isn’t real. Men like you aren’t real. The man in the tabloids has been around for years, but this one I met only three weeks ago under extreme circumstances. You’d break my heart, and I don’t think I’m strong enough to take that.”
He waited patiently because he could see there was more she was reluctant to admit.
“I know that sounds ridiculous,” she added hastily. “I’ve never had a home or a family. I’ve always had to work out every problem and figure out how to survive. I’ve always been alone. Haydon is the only person that’s ever been a constant in my life and certainly not in a positive way. If I let myself fall in love with you, which would be so easy to do, and then you turned out to be that man in the tabloids, especially if I depended completely on you, I think I would be so broken there would be no fixing me.”
Vittorio felt such pride in her he knew it showed on his face. She was magnificent. That had to have been so difficult to admit to him, and he knew most women would never have done it. Her admission told him she trusted him already far more than she thought she did.
“Grazie, a mia ragazza molto coraggiosa. You are fast becoming mia vita. I can’t imagine what kind of courage it took to tell me the truth, and I appreciate it. I want to be able to have honest communication between us. That’s the only way a relationship like we would have would work. I need to know how you feel and you have to know how I feel. I understand that you’re nervous and even scared. I’m a little terrified of losing you because of who I am and what I need. I’m hoping your needs coincide with mine.”
He fed her several bites of egg, watching the expressions chase across her face. When she finished the eggs, he switched back to his chair to give her some breathing room. At least she wasn’t trying to run for the hills. She was actually giving the things he said real thought.
Grace took a drink of her coffee and picked up the piece of toast. “I don’t like that. You being terrified of losing me because of who and what you are. You’re a good man, Vittorio. No matter what, you’re a good man.”
“Am I? I’m a man who wants my woman to let me be dominant in our home.” He deliberately used the adjective, hoping she would start making that connection.
Most people would assume his brother Ricco, because he practiced the art of shibari, would be a dominant in his home with his woman. He wasn’t. Neither was Stefano, who was a natural commander. As head of the Ferraro family, he was responsible for their lives. Vittorio had been born dominant. He’d always known that was his cross to bear. His needs would make it doubly difficult to find a woman who could have shadow-riding children and would live with a man like him.
“There’s nothing wrong with that, Vittorio. Nothing is wrong between two consenting adults.”
He put down his fork. “Look at me.” He poured authority into his voice and she looked up immediately. “Don’t do that. Don’t spout platitudes. I want you to understand exactly what you would be getting into if you stayed with me. It isn’t like you read in stories or they portray in movies. This isn’t about whips per se. But it is about bondage. This is about who I am and how we would live together in this house. This is about the way I have to live. I don’t just want to be in control, Grace. I need to be. I need to take care of my woman and know that she trusts me to have her best interests at heart. I need to make the decisions, to decide what’s best for us both. And I will take absolute control in the bedroom. I would expect you to trust me to take care of you there as well. For me to be happy in a relationship, Grace, you have to be happy. That’s the way it works.”
His heart accelerated, and he took a breath
to find his center, to stay in complete control of his emotions. He didn’t want to lose her, but he didn’t want her to stay with him and then find she detested their lifestyle. He’d laid it all out on the line for her. What he was. What he needed. What he would expect from her.
It would be better to give her up and let another rider find happiness. The thought, the moment it came, filled him with a kind of dark aggression. He saw it as a bloodred swirling cloud in his mind that filtered through his system. He couldn’t have that, not with his gifts. He knew better. He knew he had to have harmony in his home at all times. He had to have a sanctuary where, no matter the horrors he saw, the things he had to do in order to bring justice to those who would harm others, he could find his peace.
“Would it be so bad to continue your life the way it’s been?”
She took another sip of coffee, clearly stalling for time while she thought things over. That was very much like her. At least she hadn’t run screaming from the room or demanded he call her a cab.
“If you really want honesty, Vittorio, I don’t have a clue. The idea of bondage is both a little terrifying and intriguing.”
“We would work up to the things I would like to do to you in the bedroom, building your trust in me. Not just jump right into it, but what do your instincts tell you, gattina?”
“I don’t have a lot of experience, so I have no idea if I’d really like it, but the thought . . .” She trailed off.
He didn’t need her to say more. He read her body. The heightened breathing. Her nipples pushing against her thin blouse. Her restless movements in her chair.
“This time, I won’t ask you to continue because this is such a difficult conversation, but communication and honesty with yourself as well as with me will always be important. Your body likes the idea, am I correct?”
She nodded.
He waited.
Grace pressed her lips together. “Yes, Vittorio.”
He smiled at her and rubbed his thumb over her knuckles. “Thank you, Grace. I know talking about these things right now isn’t always easy, but it will become automatic. What about me making the decisions? Would it be so bad for me to continue the way we’ve been?”
Shadow Warrior Page 12