Shadow Keeper

by Christine Feehan

  He knew she would have to feel his sincerity. This wasn't about that anymore. This was about whether or not she felt capable of loving him. He didn't take his eyes from her, taking in every detail. The slightest nuance, her every expression.

  She touched her tongue to her lip. "Are you hiding something from me? Something about your family business that might change how I answer?"

  She might as well have shot him--put a fucking bullet right through his heart. She was smart, and there was no hiding the fact that his family was powerful and dangerous. They wanted people to know they were a force to be reckoned with. That was how they protected themselves and their territory.

  He took a deep breath. "Yes." It was the only answer he could give. The only answer he would give. He had to be honest with her, and in any case, their shadows were connected. She came from a family straight from Sicily. She might not have been trained to be a rider but she certainly could have been one. Her brother as well.

  Sasha stepped close to him. "Will you tell me what it is?"

  "I'm not at liberty to tell you until we're together." That was the truth, too.

  She studied his face for what seemed an eternity. Very slowly she nodded her head. "Then yes, Giovanni, I'll marry you."

  For the first time in his life, he actually felt so weak he thought he might hit the floor. "After what I just told you?"

  She was there, sinking to the floor beside him. Her hands framed his face, her thumb sliding over the bristles on his jaw. "I know your family has to have secrets. You didn't lie to me, Giovanni, and you promised you would explain when we were committed. I'm committing to you. Tying my life to yours. You come with secrets, and your mother. I come with stalkers and Sandlin. We'll find a way to work it all out."

  "Eloisa." He sighed.

  "Stalkers." She matched his sigh.

  The two of them burst into laughter, and he gathered her into his arms, pulling her onto his lap again. He liked her there. He liked the way her arm naturally curved around his neck and she leaned into him. Almost melted into him. "Have that ridiculous game and your worries been put to rest?"

  She nodded. "I really wanted to play the game and get your money back from Geno. He was very smug about his winnings."

  "I lost a ton of money that night, but it was well worth it. I found you. I wasn't about to leave that table and have you thinking I was playing that game."

  She laughed again. Dio, but he loved her laugh. Her fingers curled around the nape of his neck, and just that touch, the way she brushed his skin, made his heart pound and his cock stir. There wasn't anything at all sexual about the way she was acting with him, but the intimacy of her touch and the way she was so naturally sensual were arousing. She didn't have to try very hard with him.

  "I noticed, too. I was watching."

  "Tell me what Aaron said."

  "He lied about you. He said the two of you competed for the same woman and he implied you would go so far as to get engaged and then dump the woman just to win."

  He didn't have many men he counted as friends and that hurt. Deeply. He liked Aaron. He'd helped him often with his training.

  "That was never true. I've never come close to an engagement. You can go back through every tabloid and every speculation. I was never photographed with the same woman twice. I was careful never to escort a woman more than once to a charity event or any public event, for that matter. I never in my life have led a woman on. I have never been with one that didn't know the score."

  She closed her eyes and let her head fall on his shoulder. "You don't like your life, do you, Giovanni?"

  "Do I sound bitter? I don't mean to. I don't like every aspect of my life, but sometimes, it is necessary to do things for the family. I can't perform my regular job, so I play the part of the playboy. That's a job and I've learned, over the last few months, to be very good at it, but no, honey, I don't like it."

  She pulled back to study his face, her eyes thoroughly examining every line carved deep. "You really don't. Are you going to tell me why you have to be a playboy? Why all the men in your family act that part? I presume they're all acting."

  He nodded. "Yes, it's part of our jobs. Stefano and Ricco no longer have to play that role, so that narrows it down to the rest of my brothers and me. As a rule, we try to take turns, but I have this metal in my leg and it's going to be there for a while. My fear is, I'll have to fly out of town and be seen in a club somewhere and you'll get the wrong idea."

  "You fly somewhere and have to appear in a club, I'll be right there with you." A mischievous smile lit her face. "I could be that sexy stranger asking you to dance. If Geno's anywhere around, he'd be begging you to let him give you back your money." She rubbed her hand down his jaw, feeling the five-o'clock shadow with her fingertips. "Honey, now's the time to fill me in on your family's business. I said yes to you, which means I've made that commitment. We're sorting things out. Tell me."

  He shook his head. "Give me a little more time, Sasha. I'm not stalling. I'll tell you, but the timing is critical. It matters. Trust me a little bit longer."

  She studied his face for a long time before she nodded slowly. "Not too long, Giovanni." She slid off his lap, stood up and held out her hand. "I'm way out of time. Lucky I'm with my boss because otherwise I'd be fired. As it is, West is probably going to give me a whale of a lecture. He's so good at them."

  He laughed and took her offered hand, getting up to stand beside her. He wrapped his arm around her waist. "That better not happen. The only one who gets to lecture you is me. Or maybe Stefano, too. He's bound to do it sooner or later."

  They started to the door. Giovanni stopped, pulling her to him. He cupped her chin in his hand. "Do you have to work, Sasha? We're getting married. Soon. Do you really have to put yourself in danger when we don't need the money?"

  "I need to work. Sandlin is mine. My responsibility. If I can keep this job, working on the top tier, I'll have enough to pay his medical bills and my apartment. Then, as soon as Pietro finds someone to replace me at the deli, I can drop that job. It will give me more time with my brother, but I need to work this job. I absolutely am going to be the one paying Sandlin's medical bills. I've worked all my life and I can't imagine just sitting at home twiddling my thumbs."

  "You wouldn't be doing that. Francesca could use some help with all the things she does. You're used to working on a ranch with a tremendous amount of responsibilities. That's what she's doing, trying to hold together the neighborhood and take that off of Stefano's shoulders. You have no idea what a relief it would be to have someone helping her. Organizing for her. She's been thinking about advertising for a personal assistant. It's better pay than being a server in the club. You don't even like it," he pointed out.

  "I'll think about it. I don't see how the pay could be better considering the tips I make on that top tier."

  "It will even out. At least talk to Francesca before you say no." He was going to be talking to Francesca first. She did need the help, but she would be too sweet and say she was doing fine even if she was drowning. He needed her cooperation to get Sasha out of the club and where he could better watch over her. And he was going to have a few things to say to Aaron.

  "Emme and Eloisa will make our wedding a huge event. I'm just warning you ahead of time, Sasha." He opened the door for her and waved her through.

  "Is my makeup running? I forgot to check. And we just got engaged. I think two to five years of getting to know someone is good before marriage. Especially when contemplating marriage into a family like yours with all those secrets."

  The woman didn't pull her punches. He sent her a small knowing grin. "It isn't the secrets you're dragging your feet over, it's Eloisa. And no, your makeup is fine."

  She shrugged. "That could be the truth. When are you going to tell me whatever it is you can't tell me now?"

  "When we're in bed and my cock is buried so deep in your body I'll know you can't escape and you have to hear me out before you make your decision
." He opened the door and the music hit him. Loud. Obnoxious now. He didn't want to dance or watch her serve drinks. He wanted to go home and be in bed with her with his cock buried in her.

  He tried to make it a joke, but the consequences, once he told her the family secrets, were too costly. He risked who he was. If their shadows were woven too tightly together, and he knew that had already happened, then when they were torn apart, when she rejected him and their way of life, he would no longer be able to ride the shadows. She would forget she was ever with him, but the cost to him was his ability to ride. That was essentially who he was. He would always be a shadow of a man if she left him.

  She stopped right before they got to his family. They were all there, patiently waiting. He felt them before they reached them. Their love. Their loyalty. Their support. They wanted him to succeed, and if they could have made Sasha fall in love with him, they would have collectively willed her to do so.

  "It's bad, isn't it?" Sasha asked.

  "No, at least I don't think so, but if you can't accept my family, the cost to me is more than losing you. I'm not influencing you by telling you more than that. If you accept me and can love me in spite of the public and private life we lead, then my world is right. If you can't, Sasha, I'd rather know before we're together and have several children."

  "Several?" Her eyebrows shot up. "What exactly is several? Can two be considered several? Or is it more like ..." She frowned at him and then looked toward the group of people waiting.

  He followed her gaze and found himself laughing all over again. There was a considerable amount of Ferraros standing there. He took her hand and pulled her in close, her front pressed tightly to his side. He walked her toward his family and then, just before he reached them, pulled her toward the wall, needing to kiss her. His palm wrapped around her jaw and he turned her face up to his.

  Movement was all around, except directly in front of them where his family cut off all sight from the dance floor and any paparazzi waiting to see what Giovanni had been doing with his employee in the back offices. He knew they were there, crouched like vultures, waiting to get a photograph of Sasha.

  As he bent his head to hers, a man stepped into the darkness, quite close. Giovanni instinctively shifted his body just enough to shield her if he had a camera. The man walked past them, swinging his arm out. Giovanni didn't have the help of shadows, there was little light spilling near them. Pure instinct had him shoving Sasha away from him and blocking the arm coming toward them. The slice of a blade burned as he slammed a block hard enough to break bone. The man tried to run, even as he cried out in pain.

  Giovanni was on him, taking him to the floor hard. His assailant's face smashed into the floor with the force of Giovanni's weight behind it. He rolled the man over and punched him hard several times in the face, breaking the nose and several teeth. It was Stefano's hand on his shoulder that stopped the killing punch to the throat.

  Giovanni rolled off him and allowed Taviano to help him to his feet. "You're bleeding. He get you with that knife?" Taviano toed it without touching it.

  Giovanni glanced down at his arm. "Shallow. I'll clean it. No worries." He glanced around him. "No one saw this little mess." It was a statement.

  "No, he's a drunk. We'll fix him right up." Stefano turned to Emilio and his bodyguard nodded as he reached down and secured the knife. Instantly they were helping the injured man to his feet and hustling him back through the door to the office. He was gone in seconds and several men were already mopping up the blood.

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  "What was that?" Sasha asked as she looked around Giovanni's house curiously. She was very nervous. Much more so than she thought she would be. "That man who attacked you and cut you with a knife."

  Giovanni wasn't going to get away with pretending nothing had happened. She'd been sent back to work by Stefano. Sweetly, but still he'd given the order. By the time she had looked up from the wall where she'd been tossed, the assailant was gone and several men were wiping the floor clean.

  Giovanni had come back to his table with the others several minutes later as if nothing had transpired. They were so casual and laughed so often she would have thought she'd hallucinated the entire incident, but his hands were swollen, his knuckles torn and there was a streak up his arm where the knife had sliced right through his jacket.

  "That's the kind of thing that happens when you're a celebrity. People with mental illnesses fixate on you and you're not even aware of it. He had too much to drink and got a little crazy. We've been talking about putting metal detectors at the doors for some time."

  His tone was casual and he waved his hand as if the entire thing was just an everyday occurrence, but she wasn't buying it. "Where is he now? I didn't see the cops arrive." There was no way to keep the suspicion from her voice and she didn't try.

  "I'm not certain, Sasha," Giovanni said. "Are you hungry? I don't think you've been eating much since your stalker made his appearance. I watched you at Stefano's and I'm fairly certain you ate three bites."

  "I wolfed my food down. I'm not one of those women who never eat," she declared. "I'm always willing to eat, but I would like a shower."

  She desperately needed to breathe deep. She was in Giovanni Ferraro's home. It was beautiful. Not at all pretentious. It was impressive, but beautiful. She loved the way the house was shaped in a long U. One side of the U was the master bedroom, bathroom, what appeared to be a training hall or very well-equipped gym, a theatre room and a large library that she could get lost in, as well as what she was certain was a nursery. Just looking into that room made her heart start to pound, as if she was looking at her future. She'd always loved the thought of children because she knew her brother would make the best uncle in the world and her parents, wonderful grandparents. In a way, that nursery was comforting.

  The kitchen, dining room and great room formed the curve of the U with two bathrooms and a large pantry. She hadn't visited the second side of the U, but she was certain it was equally as impressive. In the courtyard between the two long sides of the house was a swimming pool, an outside kitchen with a fireplace and a garden that easily could have been in a magazine. She was very glad, in spite of the money he had, Giovanni didn't have a home with thousands and thousands of square feet. She would have been lost. His home felt like it still was cozy and comfortable to her although it had every modern convenience and in terms of square footage was large.

  Sasha let the water pour over her body. She was exhausted, and yet just being in Giovanni's house with him, knowing she'd be in his bed, was exhilarating. She should have waited to agree to marry him until she knew the secrets of his family, but something had tied them together. Something unbreakable. She had no idea what it was, but those ties were strong. She wanted to be with him. She wanted to make him happy. She knew he could make her happy.

  If what she felt for him had only been sexual, she could have resisted. She was strong, and she weighed things carefully as a rule. This whirlwind romance with Giovanni Ferraro was almost unbelievable to her if she examined it too closely. She wished she could talk to Sandlin. He'd always advised her when she was growing up, and his advice had always been spot-on. Still, there was a part of her that knew it wouldn't matter what he said. She was too far gone. Whatever it was that bound them together tied her so tightly to him she couldn't think straight. So yes, she was taking that chance.

  When she had dried off, feeling refreshed, she wrapped a towel around herself and wandered back into the master bedroom. Her heart thudded when she saw him sitting there on the bed, a tray beside him. Suddenly she was starving. She looked around a little helplessly, not wanting to sit on the bed in a towel.

  "Clothes in the drawers."

  She loved the sound of his voice and the fact that he always seemed to know when she needed something. The closet held a series of drawers, and she cautiously opened the top two. Panties, bras and lingerie were stacked neatly. The top item was an apricot gown in a fabric that stret
ched, but wasn't more than delicate lace. She picked up the thong panties. They were made out of the same fabric, but twisted cord.

  Just looking at the lingerie made her sex clench. She loved beautiful, sexy undergarments. It was the one thing she spent money on. She wore them beneath her jeans when she rode horses on the ranch. She wore them beneath her uniform when she went to work. Now, she would wear them for the man she was falling off a cliff for and who turned her on.

  "So, that man, the one you took down to the floor in zero point one seconds and who your entire family surrounded just as fast and then he was gone ..." She glanced over her shoulder to look at his face. His expression hadn't changed at all. She stepped into the gossamer panties. They might as well have been nonexistent, but she settled the thin, rolled cord between her cheeks and reached for the short gown. "How did you manage to disarm him, take him down, beat the crap out of him and get him out of there right under the noses of the paparazzi and me?"

  Sasha didn't turn around that time. She knew she wouldn't be able to read him. He would either tell the truth or he wouldn't. He'd been so fast she questioned what she saw, but the more she replayed the incident in her mind, the surer she was that something significant had happened. Giovanni Ferraro looked like a hot businessman, a playboy jet-setter, but he was far more than that. He moved too fast, was too good at fighting. He'd put that man down so fast she honestly hadn't even seen it.

  "Practice."

  Her heart thudded. She pulled the matching gown over her head. The stretch lace was apricot, the color barely there. It was short, falling to just below her bottom so that every step would have her bare cheeks peeking out. The material settled over her body like a glove, a sheath emphasizing rather than hiding her curves. She stared down at herself. "Um, Giovanni? There seems to be a little flaw in this gown." The material wrapped around her breasts, framing them beautifully, but there wasn't so much as a stitch over them.

  "Turn around. Let me see. I approved that one myself."