Destino (44 page)

“I have one request. I created this mess, and the men will not respect you if you just banish me. They will question your leadership. Let me get into the ranks with them and take out Calderone.”

He nodded in agreement.

Lorenzo turned and walked away. Giovanni released a deep burdened sigh and headed in the opposite direction.

****

The breakfast went off with much celebration, and Giovanni gave a toast welcoming the Minettis into the family, assuring them that this union will make them all stronger. He saw little of his Bella. When he inquired he was told by Zia that she was upstairs working on the dress for the wedding. Soon the gathering of men drew him away. For the next three days he spent the morning and evenings dealing with family matters, and no time with her. When he arrived at night, he’d stand near the bed and watch her sleep in the dark. He would watch the way she exhaled her sweet breath and her chest rose and fell, to the delicate expansion of her small nostrils when she inhaled. Beauty, unmatched by any woman he’d ever dared to share his heart with.

In the mornings Flavio would be at his side reminding him of his responsibilities. He wouldn’t even have a chance to say goodbye. Tonight his return had him aching to see her, talk to her. He only now understood how dependent he’d become on her.

Giovanni was disappointed to find her gone from the room they shared. For a brief moment panic settled in his gut, and he feared she’d left him and returned to her life. After all, he couldn’t possibly think closing her store and moving her things upstairs would bind her to him. She could wake and walk away from him, and he’d be powerless to prevent it. To his relief, she hadn’t done so. His men informed him that she worked on the dress still. He headed to the third level in search of her.

And it was true. She had turned that boarded off section of his home into a little design factory. Fabric rolls, shears, sewing machines and other instruments he couldn’t name were all inside. Giovanni found her standing in front of the dress mannequin. It wore the most beautiful of gowns. He watched silently as she continued with hand stitches to the beaded bodice at the front of the dress. She had only one lamp on next to her, casting her in what looked like candle light. At her feet were cut pieces of cloth and a bag of beads she plucked from.

Tonight she’d chosen a red spaghetti strap slip dress that stopped mid-thigh, and was made out of a stretch material which flattered her figure. Gone were the wrap around dresses he loved. Still this one was just as sexy to him.

The sewing needle dropped. She bent at the waist to pick it up and the skirt rose, revealing more of her thighs, and her ass became a rounded sculpture of perfection.

“Amore mio.”

Words he thought he said in his head were actually spoken aloud. Mira shot up right with a startled cry and looked behind her. “You’re back?”

“I’m back.”

“Three days, and I barely see you. Now you’re back?”

He felt a pang of regret. “Forgive me.”

She narrowed her eyes on him, and he entered with a sly smile. “Is that Catalina’s wedding gown?” he asked approvingly.

Her anger melted on her soft features and the light of love he found in her eyes gleamed like amber colored jewels. In fact he could see her swell with pride as she stepped aside so he could see the dress in all its glory. His
bella
was talented, far more talented than he ever gave her credit for. The dress was stunning. “Do you like it?” Mira asked.

“
Bellissima
,”

Mira turned to the table next to him and picked up the veil. “I know you may not approve of the low neckline but I did make the veil long enough according to your customs to block her from view. I even cut it the edges as instructed for good luck, per
Signora
Clara
,” she smiled.

“I appreciate it, Bella.” He accepted the veil from her hand, moved closer to her, and placed it back over to her left on the table.

Mira tried to gauge if he was drunk, upset, or anything else to account for the reason she hadn’t seen or spoken much to him in the past two days. He directed his blue eyes back to hers. “Are you okay?” she asked.

He reached and touched her neck then allowed his fingers to trace the curve as it connected to her shoulder, stopping at the thin strap of the dress holding her bosom up. He eased a finger under the strap and lowered it. Mira looked to her shoulder to see it slip off then back to his eyes. She said nothing but her heartbeat quickened from the look of wild, unbridled lust in his blue eyes. “I hated not seeing you these past few days.” He admitted.

“Me too.” She confessed.

He took a step toward her.

“Did you miss me?” he asked softly.

“Of course. Our time together isn’t long. Before you disappeared I wanted to talk to tell you my news.”

“Tell me now.”

“I have to return to New York, then possibly Milan. After the wedding.”

He put his finger to her lips silencing her. “That’s not the news I wanted to hear. I wanted to hear that you decided on us, to be mine.” Using his other hand he hooked another finger to the other strap, drawing it off her shoulder and her right breast was exposed to the nipple. Giovanni’s brow arched. He assisted in peeling the fabric downward over the swell of her breast. She didn’t wear underwear. She had showered, put on the dress and come upstairs to finish her work.

“
Cara
, you are never far from my thoughts. Forgive me for disappearing, I wanted to be here. Don’t leave to punish me.”

“I’m not. It’s business, can’t you understand that?”

He lowered his face to her neck, running his tongue over her vein that delicately pulsed underneath her silky skin, and she tilted her head back welcoming him. Sliding his hand down her backside, he cupped her buttocks pushing her into him. Mira wrapped her right leg around his waist, feeling his strong muscular thigh press in on her achy core.

“I need to be inside you.” His hands gripped her hips. She lowered her leg and tugged, yanking the dress down her curves, causing it to drift down to her feet. Again their eyes met. He advanced on her until she walked back and bumped up against the cool glass of the seal of the window. A slight shiver crept over her skin. Mira realized she was nude, and ever so vulnerable to him. She was angry dammit. He had disappeared for days and she missed him terribly. All she was left with was the highly emotional Catalina, and Fabiana who had become secretive and distracted. The wedding planning had been a stressful ordeal with her and Fabiana fumbling over offending one person of the Battaglia family then the other. And he barely blinked at her announcement of leaving. Did he not believe her, or just not care?

His forehead dropped on hers and his hands rubbed up and down her hips before lifting her to the windowsill, and only part of her rested on the edge. The kiss was soft and gentle. On command her thighs parted, and her hand sought the buckle to his belt. His lips caressed hers, her chin, her neck and then her nipple before drawing it into his mouth. With her back pressed to the window she could barely get his zipper down. Her actions and his became a bit desperate, and she freed him into her shaky hands, stroking his engorged length.

“Put me inside of you.” He said in a gruff, almost desperate voice, but she kept stroking. Giovanni’s head dropped back from pure pleasure. The tendons and muscles in his neck became profound and his jaw rigid with restraint. Again his cock felt like velvet over steel in her hands. She guided him to her core. Giovanni forced her legs up with both arms, and they hooked around at odd angles before he delivered a powerful thrust and entered her.

Mira steadied her breathing, listening as his became more ragged. He pushed his way deeper with thrusts strong and sure, while his piercing blue eyes once again focused on her before he parted her legs even wider and lowered them to admire their coupling. “Yes.” she exclaimed, thrust after thrust, her head smacking the windowpane. She writhed against him. He remained fully dressed with his pants still drawn up. She clawed at his shoulders and her nails scraped down the silk threads of his shirt. Her thighs began to quiver and she could feel the tickle of his silky pubic hairs against her clit, drawing out the orgasm she wanted to hold back on. He showed her no mercy, rotating his hips and screwing her to the bitter end. He sucked at her neck so hard she winced. “Don’t! Don’t…leave a mark.” She pleaded. She couldn’t be paraded around his family with the love bites on display. It was hard enough to not take the constant stares and whispers when she entered a room personally.

Ignoring her he pushed both her thighs back until her knees almost touched the windowpane and pounded his own needs into her. The intensity of his lovemaking had her fearing they’d burst through the glass as it rattled from his forceful demands, pinning her against it. Her cries for mercy increased and so did his grunting, and ragged breathing in her ear, before he covered her mouth with a deep kiss, his tongue lashing across hers. He went on for so long she marveled at his strength and self-control. His sweat dampened body had his shirt sticking to him and his face glistening with moisture.

Again his head dropped back, and together they both shuddered hard, teetering on the verge of an explosive climax. Just when she thought she could stand no more Mira felt the rush of his seed as he erupted inside of her, flowing and coating her womb with his love. He let go of her thighs, which she lowered gratefully. He withdrew and the separation tore at her heart. How much more of this could she stand? She eased off the window and avoided the satisfaction in his smirk. She found her dress and slipped it on immediately, ignoring the sticky drip of their mingled sex wetting her inner thighs.

“Bella, wait…”

Grabbing her robe, she went for the door fast. She didn’t want to hear his seductive words and submit like some love starved twit, and she couldn’t catch her breath to explain how consumed she was with him now. She just didn’t care to hear any more reasoning from him as to why they fit. He caught her halfway in the hall and forced her to turn around and face him. “Wait a damn minute. I want to talk to you.”

“No!” she knocked his hands away. He grabbed her by the elbows forcing her arms up and her body to remain still.

“I’m sorry for staying away. I know I invited you here, and we were to spend time together, but it couldn’t be helped.”

“Doesn’t matter. I want to finish her dress, and then I’m leaving. And fucking me senseless won’t change it.”

He blinked, shocked by her abrupt manner, and then his eyes narrowed on her, tinged with rage. She didn’t dare break his stare; he had to know he couldn’t treat her like his whores. Her visit was his privilege not his right, dammit. She had a life that she’d repeatedly ignored since the day he discovered her bracelet and put it into her hands.

“Am I that bad you would speak to me like this?”

“I can’t help it. I told you in Bellagio that I didn’t like being ignored. If you had to go then would it have killed you to say goodbye? Instead of leaving me waiting for you night after night in the bed alone?”

“I said goodnight to you every night.” He grunted.

She blinked confused. “You did not…” her voice trailed off. She thought one night she felt him in the room, felt his strong fingers brush her jaw. But when she woke she thought it was a dream. “I agreed to this arrangement without thinking it through.”

“Because my every motive must be dissected.” He scoffed.

“No. Because of me. My needs. I didn’t agree to how empty I feel when you and I are apart. The way I feel about us is changing me, clouding my judgment. I missed you.”

He let go of her arms and stepped back, his gaze softening. Unable to stand it any longer, she turned and walked away.

Lorenzo reached for his phone. Fabiana’s arm dropped from him, but her sweet warm body curled up close. “What is it?”

“Your car, Boss,” Carmine said in the receiver. “We got a repair truck to take it in and have it tuned. Did you request it?”

“Yea. Yea. Let them take it. Tell them to have it back after the wedding.”

He dropped the phone and fell back on the pillows. He spent the past three insufferable days kept away from family business. His only salvation had been Fabiana. He turned his head and looked at her. She slept like an angel. Lorenzo drew her close to him. After the wedding, he’d leave
Melanzana
. If Giovanni didn’t want him around, why stay? He had a condo in Sorrento where she and he could spend every morning and night under the covers.

The idea of it made his loins hard with lust. He rolled his beautiful Fabiana to her back and her long lashes fluttered open. She touched his face.

“Thank you Cara, for being here, for not turning from me when I told you… my truth.”

He kissed her and her legs parted allowing him the pleasure to sink between her warm silky thighs. A single thrust drew his cock into such unbelievable warm tightness he shuddered. Everywhere she was soft, and curvy, and he buried his face in her scarlet red hair thrusting his devotion and love into her. She was his. The only good thing he had left. He would hold on tighter to her to keep his sanity.

****

Mira opened her eyes. Giovanni lay wrapped around her with the sheets tangled around his waist. He joined her in bed and though things remained tense between them they made love again. Nothing, not even her confused heart, could stop her body from responding when he touched her. And the man would not be denied.