Unconventional (The Manhattanites #4) (13 page)

They both sat up. Glaring at me, faces frozen in silence, sympathy in their eyes.

Fuck. Say something.

“One of us is going to die before the other,” Rocco said matter-of-factly. His wide forehead wrinkled as he continued, “We can’t defy death. We can only enjoy life.”

Luigi stroked my arm. “That’s another benefit of us being in this thruple. When one of us dies…the other two won’t be left alone.”

A warm glow flowed through me. I smiled hearing his optimism and confessed, “I hadn’t thought about it like that before. Let me ask you something else, and I want you to be honest with me.”

They both nodded.

“If I die…will you two promise me you’ll stay together?”

“Always and forever,” Rocco replied without any hesitation. “’Til the end of time, and we’ll see you up there in Heaven or wherever our souls go when we die.”

“We have no intention of taking on another girlfriend,” Luigi added.

As I tried to grasp what they’d said, I snuggled close between them and closed my eyes. My heart sang inside just like Birdie’s beautiful voice had earlier with joy.

Rocco hands glided over my backside. He liked to trace his fingers over my scars from the surgery. He called them my angel wings. I wanted to have them tattooed, eventually.

He’d once said to me, “Breast cancer isn’t a pink ribbon. It’s a disease which takes lives. If you survive…if you’re able to go on with the days ahead of you, then you’ll be a supernatural creature living and walking among us.”

I loved that he’d said that to me.

I thought about Rocco’s words so often.

Especially after we’d made love, like that night.

I pressed my body next his. Smelling him, tasting his breath, he butterfly-kissed the scars, and my pain away.

Shopping. Making love. Dancing. Music. Food. BDSM clubs. Leather. We did it all!

We ate
kaffee und kuchen
, did a photo shoot in Grunewald Forest, explored the flea-markets at Mauer Park, walked (and fucked) on the Berlin Wall, and played in the gardens of Schloss Charlottenburg, and by played, I mean fucked some more.

The week in Berlin flew by like a whirlwind.

With more fashion sketches than I’d ever thought possible, I’d come up with several new dresses for my upcoming collection. Inspired by the labyrinth where we’d made love, they had prisms of crystals which hung from them. Purple and red hues. So romantic, and yet psychedelic and trendy.

We only had two more days left in Germany then we were off to Russia.

I knew what I needed to do. Correction—what I wanted to do. I couldn’t deny them any longer. Or myself, for that matter. After the boys had fallen asleep one night at the hotel, I reached for my cell phone and slipped into the bathroom.

Sitting on the edge of the porcelain tub, I called Prince Massimo.

I can’t believe I’m doing this…

“
Ciao
, Jemma,” he greeted on the second ring.

“Masi, I need a favor. When we leave here, I’m going to have the pilot make an unexpected trip to Isola di Girasoli.”

“Aren’t you scheduled to go to Moscow?”

“
Sì
. But there’s been a change of plans.” Trying to focus, I put a strand of hair in my mouth and sucked on it nervously like I did when I was a kid.

“You’re cancelling the sexual safari?”

“
Sì
…”

“Do the guys know about this?”

“No.”

“But why? The
pubblicità
is going well for Jemma Couture.
Signorina
Brill is going to have a fit. Lex emailed me the drawings you’ve done for the next collection. Everything looks
sorprendente
. Our stocks have gone up. Investors seem happy.”

I held my breath while he huffed and puffed into the phone.

“I’ll explain when I get there.”

“Jemma!”

“Masi,
per favore
. Don’t ask questions. Can you, Lex and the rest of the Manhattanites meet us at your palace?”

“Tell me what you’re up to.”

“Just trust me. I wouldn’t ask if it wasn’t important.”

“Is it a matter of life and death?” he asked.

“Not death, you ass.” I laughed. “Life, Masi. Life.”

“Okay, okay. Lex, Taddy, Blake, and I will see you at Isola di Girasoli in two days. I don’t think we can get Vive out of rehab again, but I can try.”

“
Grazie
,” I said and hung up.

A Celebration of Life

Luigi

Two days later

Isola di Girasoli

Che cosa?

After we’d taken off from Berlin, I didn’t know how much time had passed since I’d fallen asleep. Maybe three or four hours.

Damn.

I blamed the two tumblers of scotch I’d drunk before departure. I hated flying, and Prince Massimo’s pilot jetted the thing around as if it were a taxi in
Milano
.

When I’d awoken, we’d already landed.

We were on the tarmac. The plane’s wheels had come to a complete stop, and the engines turned off.

The jet’s door opened.

We weren’t in Russia. At least it didn’t feel like it.

For starters, the sun blinded me. Bright white, almost pink rays shined through the windows illuminating everything.

Not in the Eurasia way I’d expected.

Second, there was humidity in the air. Coming into the cabin from the outside, it practically blanketed me in hot moisture.

Then I smelled the briny, salt air.
Mmm,
and the sweet smell of…sunflowers? Followed by the sounds of seagulls.

“
Dolce
!” I jumped to my feet, almost hitting my head on the ceiling. “What the hell is going on?”

“Calm down, my darlings.” Wearing a slinky dress Rocco had picked out for her the previous day while shopping, she strutted down the aisle toward me.

I glanced over to my left.

On the cabin’s sofa, shaking his head, my
bello
drank a glass of red wine as if he hadn’t a care in the world. “I knew she wouldn’t be able to let us be in charge of our sexual safari. She changed the course.”

“Get up.” Taking a cookie from his hand, I swatted at him.

Jemma’s heart-shaped face with those full pink lips, high forehead, small chin, button nose, narrow jaw, high cheekbones, clear olive skin, wide-set eyes—all of it together—radiated a coy level of sensuality. I found her disposition infuriating and alluring at the same time.

“Where are we?” I crossed my hands over my chest and set my jaw.

“Don’t you recognize this place?” With a smile from ear to ear, she put her hands out to her sides and spun around, nearly knocking Rocco’s glass from his hands.

Too mad, I couldn’t even see out the damn window.

“Silly. We’re on Isola di Girasoli.”

“Why did you bring us here?” I asked her. When she gave no answer, I glared at Rocco for one.

“She wouldn’t tell me till you woke up.” He finally got off his ass and stood next to me.

I nudged him with my shoulder. “And why didn’t you wake me up sooner?”

“
Dolce
said not to.” He shrugged.

Without warning, Jemma got down on one knee. Right in front of us. She reached out for our hands and asked, “Will you marry me?”

“Whaaa—” Shocked, amazed, my mouth hung open.

“Today?” Rocco’s voice raised in surprise.

“
Sì,
” she replied. Her features became more animated.

A new and unexpected warmth surged through me. Happiness. “You drive me crazy. You know that, don’t you? No one compares to you,
dolce
. No one.”

Her skin, so golden brown, radiated joy. “Prince Massimo and the Manhattanites are all waiting for us at the Tittoni palace.”

“You planned this?” I could barely make sense of what was going on.

She nodded. “Two days ago,
amore
. Your parents are coming. Rocco’s, too. So…what’s your answer?”

Rocco squeezed her hand, reached for mine, and replied, “
Sì
.”

“It would be our honor,” I agreed, taking a sharp breath before I helped her to her feet. Kissing her, Rocco did as well, and then my lips touched his. We all three embraced each other for a minute. The hug reminded me of when we were on top of the cliff, there at Isola di Girasoli, not long ago, talking about
us
, right before Jemma had said no.

“Why the change of heart?” I asked as we stepped down from the plane.

Slipping on my sunglasses, I didn’t want her to notice a tear forming in my right eye. Elated, I’d never thought the day would come. I stopped at the bottom of the stairs and held her tightly in my arms. I could feel her heart beating against my chest. Rocco came up from behind, brushed her hair off her shoulder, and repeated my question.

She gazed up at me then Rocco. “When I realized you two had gone to such great lengths to make me fall in love with life, with us, and myself again…I knew I wanted to make a commitment to you both. Forever.” Her eyes glistened with tears. “Deep down inside, I always knew you two were the ones. That wasn’t why I’d said no initially.”

“Then why did you turn down our proposal?” Rocco asked.

“When I got sick, I felt the cancer had taken the best out of me. I didn’t think I had anything left to give you. But our night at Circus Bazaar changed everything. That and a talk I’d had with Vive helped me realize otherwise.”

“And what was it you realized?” I wondered.

“That our lives are just starting,” she beamed. “That we’re getting a second chance to live our lives however we want.”

Adrenaline raced through me. I’d sensed a change in her spirit over the past few days, and definitely for the better, but I’d never expected this. “What is it you want for your life now, Jemma?”

“To grow old with you both. To love you as best as I can.”

“Me, too,” Rocco agreed.

Together, we piled into the Tittoni limo and made our way to the palace.

Jemma

The next day

House of Tittoni

I didn’t know why in the holy banana Prince Massimo had delayed our wedding by an entire day. I was starting to get used to the sexual safari and was eager to get to Moscow. Taddy, Lex, Blake, and even Vive were all there. Along with Luigi’s and Rocco’s parents.

Nevertheless, Prince Massimo had pushed the ceremony back.

Can you believe it?

He’d said he had to get the marriage license in order, but I found that rather odd. The guy owned the damn country. He could’ve pulled it out of royal ass if he wanted to.

We’d planned to get married on the beach at sunset. I dressed in a gown from Lex’s bridal collection she’d flown in with.

A mermaid pattern, off one shoulder, ivory fringe, and beading. All chiffon. Pretty, elegant, simple. Nothing like I would’ve created but hey, when in Rome, right?

Lex zipped up the back of dress and asked, “You nervous?”

“Surprisingly, no.” I turned to face the mirror. We were in one of the villas near the seat which faced the island of Malta. Just her and me, like old times. “I never thought I’d wear white. Black, yes.”