His lungs burned. He knew he couldn't hold his breath long. He'd never been able to swim and he certainly couldn't stay underwater long. His gaze went back to hers. His niece. His Giacinta. Pleading. Trying to tell her he was sorry. Trying to beg. Ordering her. Swearing at her. He didn't dare open his mouth, so he did it all with his eyes.
Then it happened. He couldn't stop it from happening. He inhaled. The water burned in his nose, down his throat to his lungs. He saw Tomasso's hand grip Giacinta hard, yanking her back and away. She resisted for a moment and then they were swimming away, while the water poured into him. He closed his eyes not wanting to watch his last hope swim away.
Lissa tried to keep her mind blank as Casimir kept her swimming away from the car. Twice she tried to turn back. For what, she didn't know. Her uncle had wiped out her family, turned her into a killer and then put out a hit on her. Seeing the desperation in his eyes, the mixture of pain, sorrow, even, maybe love... That had been so difficult. She tried to think of him as a monster, an illusion, not a real man. Not her uncle, the man who had raised her all those years...
She choked and realized she was crying, her tears filling her mask. She wasn't breathing properly for being underwater. Casimir swam close to her, his hand occasionally touching her, brushing along her shoulder or arm, just to let her know he was there. He knew how difficult this task had been. He probably didn't know it would haunt her for years. They all did. Every single one of the lives she'd taken.
Intellectually she knew they deserved to die. Her family wasn't the only family to be killed by the men she'd brought to justice. She even knew she'd saved more lives. That didn't matter when she went to bed at night.
They swam for a long distance, Lissa trying hard to keep her mind from straying back to the car. Casimir had packed her things and her suitcases were in the car waiting. Lissa Piner had to be on a train, on her way to Germany, to her next appointment, before word got out that Luigi Abbracciabene had died in a tragic accident right on the heels of his brother-in-law Aldo's accident. The driver, Tomasso, would never be found. His body either carried away by the sea, or perhaps he was a coward and fled when his boss had been trapped. Either way, the tire marks on the road would attest to the fact that he'd tried hard to keep the vehicle on the road. Once the car was examined, the faulty steering mechanism would be blamed.
Casimir touched her shoulder, indicating to start moving upward. She had left their boat far from where the car would go off the road and into the sea. They were two tourists, a couple, exploring the sea. She obeyed his directive, staying close to him, afraid she would be silly enough to swim back. By now Luigi was dead, drowned in the terrible accident and people had to be aware a car had gone off the road on the winding cliff above. They would be putting together a dive team. She couldn't be anywhere near the car and Luigi.
The moment her head broke the surface, she ripped off the mask and threw it into the boat. Casimir's hands spanned her waist and he nearly tossed her in after her mask. She crawled across the seat, removing the rented tank, and shoved her fist into her mouth, looking at Casimir with stricken eyes.
He took off his tank with slow, deliberate movements she had come to recognize in him. His gaze never left her face. "It's done, malyshka. These are the last tears I want you to shed for a man who doesn't deserve them. I know you're crying for him, not for you. We'll take the boat back, so you have the time it takes to do that to mourn him. After that, never again."
She nodded, although she wasn't certain she could follow his dictate. She understood it. Luigi Abbracciabene, her uncle, was a monster. The man she thought she knew didn't exist. Casimir wanted her to understand the difference. She could cry for a childhood dream. For herself. For her loss. But he didn't want her crying for the man, because that man - the one she thought was good - the one she'd loved - didn't really exist.
She studied Casimir's set jaw as he guided the boat back toward the resort where she'd spent the last few days. He looked invincible, with wide shoulders and a muscular body. He wore his expressionless mask, something he did often out in public, but rarely did when they were alone.
Casimir despised Luigi, and she knew it wasn't just because he'd hurt her. Or even put a hit out on her. It had to do with the things he'd found in the warehouse where Cosmos's wife, Carlotta, had died. He didn't give her details, he hadn't wanted her to know. She knew Luigi was involved in prostitution, but it was far worse than that. She didn't want Casimir to give her specifics. It was hard enough to come to terms with Luigi's betrayal of her family.
Strangely, Casimir's wanting to protect her from that about her uncle, when he could easily have used those details any number of times when she'd burst into tears over Luigi's betrayal of her, made her love Casimir even more. Even now, when the tears ran down her face, he didn't reprimand her.
Looking at her husband, she realized there was no excuse for what Luigi was. What he'd become. His brother had loved him. She had loved him. His parents loved him. He'd had a good childhood. He hadn't seen his parents murdered. He hadn't been ripped apart from his brother. Taken to schools where he and his fellow students were tortured and brutalized to shape them into killing machines. Even Viktor, Casimir's oldest brother, had a code. He was loyal to his family and that included the others he'd gathered around him from his school.
Luigi had become a monster through jealousy and the need to be able to live his perverted lifestyle, the need for power. He was hungry for others to admire and envy him. He needed the constant subjugation of others to make him feel powerful. She suddenly understood the truth. Even had Luigi ascended to the throne of both families, he wouldn't have been satisfied. He would still need more.
Casimir sat quietly, guiding the boat toward the resort, keeping a watchful eye on her. Caring for her. That care was genuine. Every word. Every action. He was a man who had suffered and could easily have become a monster, yet he hadn't.
His eyebrow went up. "What? Golubushka, you cannot look at me like that and not expect a reaction."
She realized the tears had dried up. Luigi Abbracciabene no longer held any sway over her. The man in that car wasn't anyone she knew or cared to know. Her uncle had died years ago, far before her father and mother. She had a life, and that life was the man sitting there looking at her as if she was his entire world.
"How am I looking at you?" she challenged.
"With love." His voice softened along with the hard lines etched deep into his face. "You're looking at me with love. Stark. Raw. For the world to see."
"Maybe that's because I love you like that. Stark. Raw. I don't care if the world sees it or not as long as you do."
"We've got a train to catch, malyshka," he said. "We're going to miss it, you keep looking at me that way."
"You don't like it?" she asked.
He flashed her a small grin. "You know better. You're tempting me on purpose."
She shook her head. "No, not this time. The truth, my amazing husband, is that I was thinking to myself how extraordinary you are and how lucky I am to have you."
His features stilled, went to stone. His eyes went liquid, a beautiful molten silver that held everything she'd ever wanted - or needed. Her heart stuttered. Her stomach did a slow somersault. She rubbed her thumb along the center of her palm, watching his face while she did it.
"We do have a private car, right? On that train? Because you wouldn't guess what I'm thinking right now." She centered her thoughts on his cock. On her mouth. On the delicious things she wanted to do with him.
"You're going to get yourself into trouble," he warned. Shifting his legs restlessly. "I can take us out away from shore and will if you don't stop. We'll be scrambling for another way to Germany."
She laughed, the wind whipping the sound back to them. "Such a missed opportunity."
"I'm not going to miss out," he corrected. "Just delay it until we're on that train."
Lissa stepped off the boat, tied it up and then hurried to her little cottage wh
ile Casimir took care of returning the scuba tanks and boat back to the resort's rental place. She'd already showered and dressed by the time he returned and was scrubbing down the cabin out of habit. After a lifetime of being careful, she wore thin synthetic gloves that had the fingerprints matching Patrice Lungren's identification. She wore her black wig and, unless she was inside, bound her breasts. The only time she didn't was when she was swimming, and then she used a long, shapeless cover-up.
"You have everything?" Casimir asked as he emerged from the bathroom, his jeans carelessly buttoned. He'd left the top button undone and was still barefoot.
"Now who's the tease?" she countered. "Seriously, honey, we've got to get out of here. The cottage is small, so it was easy enough to get things clean. I double-checked the drawers and under the bed, but I lived out of my suitcase. What about your things?"
Casimir had spent every night with her. He'd made appearances as Tomasso at Luigi's house just to see if anyone was talking about Luigi's disappearance. Early that morning he'd gone back and packed up Lissa's room, letting it be known he was taking her to the train station so she could make her next appointment. No one questioned him. They wouldn't. Without direction and figuring they had time off, the other bodyguards had scattered, finding women, drinking and playing hard while they had the chance. They never noticed they didn't actually see Lissa in the house.
"I'm good," he replied. "Let's go."
She paused in the doorway. "I liked this place. Not quite as much as the villa we had, but that's only because we had such complete privacy there and you're very creative when we have complete privacy."
"Lyubov moya." He shook his head, standing close, crowding her body into the doorjamb. "You aren't quiet when I push you past a certain point. I couldn't have the neighbors three cabins over calling the police. As it was, I had to bribe those next to us not to call."
She burst out laughing and pushed at the wall of his chest. "You did not. I'm quiet."
He raised his eyebrow. "Now you're just lying."
"Well," she hedged. "Maybe I get a teensy loud, when you won't let me come for like an hour."
He laughed at her, shaking his head. "An hour? Babe, I don't want to make you into a liar, so next time we're in a private place, I'll set my watch when I torment you."
He would. She knew he would. The thought of what he would do to her in that hour left her breathless. Instantly damp. Wildly excited. Casimir was very inventive and he always insisted on giving her multiple orgasms.
"You like watching me," she said softly as he took her arm and led her to the car.
He opened the door and handed her inside. "I love watching you, Giacinta," he corrected. "Put your seat belt on." He closed the door and then put their cases in the trunk before sliding behind the wheel. "I also love my mouth between your legs. Your taste is addicting. I go too long without it, and that's all I can think about."
He drove like he did everything else. Easily. Casually. Superbly. He didn't get upset with slow traffic, although they had a train to catch. He wasn't the type of driver to cut people off or give them the finger. He was an expert driver, another by-product of his training, so they made good time. He didn't take chances, but he never hesitated when an opportunity presented itself to get around other vehicles.
"Thank you, Casimir. For everything. You saved my life with Alberto. I wouldn't have made it out of that one alive. At least I don't think I would have. In any case, without you, I would have had a very difficult time these past few days."
"You don't have to thank me."
There was an edge to his voice that warned her to stop, but she needed him to know. "You helped me to see what Luigi was. Not what I wanted him to be."
"Giacinta," he reprimanded.
"No, honey. This needs to be said. I need to say it. I persisted in seeing Luigi as the uncle I wanted him to be. I did. Even after he ordered Alberto to kill me. I still had this tiny little hope in the back of my mind that a miracle would happen and he somehow was being framed."
She sighed. Ducked her head. The black wig fell around her face, reminding her that she needed to remove it. Lissa Piner had to get on the train, not Patrice. She pulled the wig off and tucked it into her bag.
"Today would have been impossible without you. I still hadn't come to terms with the truth. Seeing him like that, in the car. Even if I'd pulled that off without you, I wouldn't have left him there."
"I know. You don't have to tell me that."
His voice. She loved his voice. The way he could touch her physically when he wasn't touching her at all. Just his voice. Soft. Velvet. Brushing along her skin. Over nerve endings. The way he could use his voice like a caress was sinful.
"I do. I do have to tell you, Casimir. You have to know that you helped me see that the man I thought was family, was my uncle, never truly was. He didn't exist. You're real. You saw me when no one else could and you let me into your life. You loved me and married me. You're real. My sisters are real. We built a family together, the six of us. We don't share blood, but that doesn't make us any less of a family. They accepted me without condition. I believe that even knowing all of this, knowing what I've done, they'll still accept me because they have accepted their men without reservation. Your brothers are real. They call me family and it means something to them. Even Viktor, as much as he worries me because of Blythe, I believe he would put his life on the line for any one of us. I know your other brothers would. I have all that. Every one of us suffered something traumatic outside of our control. Luigi didn't. He simply wanted things he couldn't have and it twisted him into something malevolent. He wasn't anything like the child I was made him out to be. You gave me that insight."
"How did I do that, malyshka?" he asked gently.
"Just by being the man you are," she answered truthfully.
18
Lissa opened her eyes and found it was still night. A very bright night. There were no coverings over the window and the moon was a big round ball in the sky, so bright stars seemed faded into the background around it. Casimir lay sprawled out next to her, on his back, one arm under her, locking her to him even in sleep, the other over his eyes as if the light bothered him even in his sleep.
Casimir liked it dark. Very dark. In his room at Luigi's he always had the heavy drapes pulled over the windows. She lay partially over him, her head on his shoulder, one leg slung over his thighs. He preferred her sleeping on him. If not on him, then certainly so close she was tucked almost beneath him. He didn't like any distance between them at all.
The castle was still being renovated into a hotel. They had the entire floor to themselves, as it wasn't open yet to the public. Lissa really liked the owners. They had good business sense and everything they chose to do was done well, without breaking them financially. They wanted a chandelier for the very large great room they were using as a lobby.
Eventually they would purchase a second one for the dining room, but they were concentrating on first impressions at the moment. That and the rooms they would be renting to guests. Each room was actually a suite. They wanted the rooms to be exclusive, with full amenities, rooms everyone would want to return to. Lissa could attest to the fact that they had done a good job. The bed in their suite was amazing.
She studied Casimir while he slept. The moonlight played over his body with a loving hand. It was warm, so they had only slept with a sheet, and that had been kicked off sometime earlier. She had the chance to really look at him, to memorize every inch of him. He was beautiful. He really was. He might be masculine, but that didn't take away from his beauty. His muscles looked sculpted. He was perfectly proportioned. Her gaze moved down his chest to the sinful twelve-pack on his belly she wanted to just punch him for. He probably had been born with that. She had to work for that kind of core strength.
Her gaze moved lower, and her breath hitched in her lungs. She'd never given much thought to how men's penises looked in rest or fully erect. She had no inhibitions. It wasn't like se
x embarrassed her in the least. To her, it was as natural as breathing. If one was going to engage in sexual activities, she believed they should strive to be the best they could for their partner.
She also believed that between consenting adults, particularly a committed couple, trust was vital and whatever they chose to do was between the two of them. Casimir was very creative and she was very receptive to his imagination. He liked to play and she always got the benefit of that play - eventually.
Her hand moved very gently over his stomach and then she slid over top of him, straddling him, her head on his chest. His arm moved with her, sliding around her back, locking her there for a moment. She kept very still until his arm lost the tension in it and he drifted back to sleep. Smiling, she turned her head and kissed his chest. Very, very slowly, she began to inch her way down his body. Trailing little kisses. Using her tongue to taste his skin.
She moved over his groin to straddle his thighs. Finally. She'd enjoyed every moment of kissing him, but she feared he'd wake too soon. She didn't often get this chance, not like this, and she was going to take it. She laid her head on his hip, curled her fingers around his cock and lifted it to her mouth. She wrapped her other arm around him and immediately drew him into the heat of her mouth. Deep. No preliminary, just took him deep.
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