Authors: Lise Horton
Mac fired as her scream, and Gia’s, echoed throughout the room.
Boxer swayed, a look of disbelief crossing his demolished, bloody face. She tried to push her way to Nick, to grab the statue, protect him.
In the end it didn’t matter. Holding the statue, Boxer fell over backward, away from Nick. As he fell to the floor the statue crashed down on his chest with a sickening crunch, where the blood pouring from his bullet wound splattered onto the pristine white artwork.
She ran, tripped and then crawled, sobbing, to Nick’s side and fell into his arms, kissing his face and frantically feeling for injuries.
“I’m all right, Professor. We’re all right.” He held her, tight and fierce.
“I was so frightened, Nick! My God, I love you! I love you so much!” She clung to him, and the dam broke and she sobbed against his chest.
“I know, Professor. I love you too.”
Chapter Twenty-Two
Angelina had finally been released with a glowing medical report, but the christening had been postponed until he, Serafina and Gia all got out of the hospital and had recovered enough to attend the joyful bash. He’d had a concussion, Gia’s arm had been broken when Boxer slammed it in the door, and Serafina had been treated for trauma, cuts and contusions and kept overnight for observation since she’d suffered yet another head trauma.
A week later they were all pronounced fully recovered, or in Gia’s case at least on the road to recovery. The ordeal that they’d been through had rallied the entire Stellato family and they’d been pampered by every member since the attack.
Now they were among the boisterous throng as everyone returned from the church and the festivities began at the Stellato’s Forest Hills home. He stood with Mac as they looked across the crowded backyard. Serafina stood talking with Cara, who was holding the baby in her frothy white dress. His professor was a true beauty, but the best part of all was that she was his. The trauma of Boxer’s attack had driven them even closer and at last he was secure in her love.
“Good thing she loves you, pal, now that you’re ugly.” Mac and his wife, among other friends, were in attendance and he was just one of many who joked about Nick’s still-healing face. Mac handed him another beer and grinned.
“She’s a sensitive and discerning woman. I’m sure it wasn’t my good looks that attracted her. It was my brain.”
“The big one or the little one?”
Cheers went up as everyone toasted Cara and Rocco and their Angelina and the crowd took turns admiring the beautiful little girl. He sought out Serafina at every opportunity, unable to believe his good fortune. She’d almost been raped by Boxer. He might have killed her, but thanks to her grit, Gia, and the god of luck, he and Mac had gotten there in time. He had her back, scarred but safe and sound. He wasn’t the only one weak with relief. She’d been touching him constantly, as if reassuring herself he, too, was all right.
Sex had been on hold because of their exhaustion, and injuries, and he wanted her to have time to recover from the attack, although she repeatedly insisted she was fine. It was kind of cute how she’d been teasing him to try to get him to take her to bed.
“Seriously, Nick, smashing his head in went a long way toward taking back my independence,” she’d told him.
In fact, Boxer had survived all of the punishment, from broken ribs to the gunshot wound. He was currently being subjected to psychiatric testing but Mac was convinced he’d be found sane to stand trial.
“Slam dunk, dude. He’s going away. And seeing as how he has such a winning personality, I’m sure he’ll get shivved in jail. The guy just doesn’t know when to lay down.”
He forced the subject of Boxer out of his head, determined to be with Serafina and enjoy their life together. Seeing her off in the corner chatting with his friends and family, he waved. She waved back and her smile made his heart clutch. How had he ever gotten so lucky?
Come to think of it, he had that fucker Boxer to thank.
* * *
The party was a wonderful, joyful occasion. Utterly at home, she wandered around among the family she knew and had been introduced to relatives and friends she hadn’t yet met. She smiled, and chatted, but every few minutes her eyes sought out Nick. His laugh, and his easy movements, reassured her that he was okay. He was fine. They were both fine. Surviving Boxer’s attack had taught her the harsh lesson that her love for Nick was all-consuming. The man was her world and if he was all she could have, if children were not in the cards, a life together was too precious to lose.
Standing amid two generations of Stellato matriarchs, she laughed at how comfortable she now was with the wickedly funny trio of women. Amelia’s mother was lamenting Serafina’s various shortcomings and insisting they all needed to take her in hand to ensure that she learned to cook. They seemed to believe Nick might starve if she was incapable of making sauce.
“You hang around with us, we’ll teach you to speak Italian too.” Mrs. Montana shook a finger in her face.
“I can speak Latin.” She hoped to earn some points to indicate she wasn’t a total linguistic slacker.
“What good is Latin? I’m an old Italian woman, but I’m not that old!”
The women laughed, and she joined in before the two grandmothers drifted away to pick on Vincenzo and Berto.
“So what did the doctors say?” Amelia leaned in, speaking in a soft voice.
She shook her head. “Nothing yet. The drug was never actually approved for use in the United States, and my mother didn’t even know she was pregnant when it was given to her while she was traveling in Europe. They’ve run so many tests, but they said that the drugs don’t always cause problems in the daughters of those mothers, as was originally believed. Cara’s doctors are relatively sure I’ll have no trouble getting pregnant.”
It was like a wonderful dream. It had been only a few days after the attack when she’d worked up the courage to go for the tests. The terror she’d lived through taught her she couldn’t waste a moment of her life. It had taught her you had to take chances, you had to fight, tooth and nail, to win happiness. Other than taking Amelia into her confidence, she hadn’t said anything to Nick or anyone else because it was almost too much to hope, after all these years, that her fate might be changed. She’d been shocked, then thrilled to hear that once the tests came back, the results would likely validate the doctors’ supposition that she’d had no chromosomal effects from the powerful drugs her mother had taken. She would probably have no trouble getting pregnant.
“Have you told Nick yet?”
“I want to wait until the tests come back and I know for sure.”
“What tests?”
Nick had sneaked up behind her. His mother threw up her hands.
“If I were you, I’d tell him.” Then she hurried away and left them alone in the corner of the yard.
“What tests?”
Deep breath. “I’ve been to see Cara’s doctors and they’ve run a series of tests. Nothing conclusive yet, but I should know within a week or so.”
He looked down at her and she studied the fading bruises on his face. It seemed that one or both of them had been bruised most of the month and a half they’d been together.
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
Feeling awkward, she shrugged. “I wanted to know for myself, but I didn’t want you to feel as though I was pressuring you or expecting a commitment you weren’t prepared to make.”
“Professor, what am I going to do with you? Didn’t I convince you you’re mine, and I’m not letting you go?” He took her face in his hands. “Remember the text I sent you? The one from that Greek poem? ‘Thy lover is a soldier’? You’re the smart teacher. You should have understood I was telling you I’d fight for you and I am. I’m not giving up until you believe in us.”
She looked into his eyes. She feared she’d screwed up yet again. She loved him so much. His wonderful laugh, the warmth of his body as he held her in the night. And that wicked smile that said he and he alone knew how he affected her. He was not smiling now.
“Look. I love you—you. With kids or without them, I want you. How can I make you understand? I bet I know what Henry would do in a situation like this.”
“Henry Miller? What?”
“He said once that you can never have enough love, and that the one thing people never give each other is enough love. You and I can prove him wrong. If I have your love, that’s all I need to be happy. And I will spend my life giving my love to you.”
“I didn’t mean to keep anything from you. Can you forgive me again? I trust you—I have from the moment you rescued me. And I do love you.”
He stared down at her, eyes blazing. She couldn’t speak. In the face of his passion she could only love him.
“Then it’s time to put your money where your mouth is, Professor.”
He slowly started sinking to one knee. She blinked and her throat closed as he took one of her hands in his. Her left hand.
His other hand had been closed tightly and he opened it. Tears overflowed as she stared down at a diamond ring. Old-fashioned and beautiful, it lay sparkling in his palm.
All around them sudden silence reigned. Every eye was on them as he held up the ring.
“Professor Serafina Luca, you are as stubborn as they come. After everything we’ve been through together, you’re still fighting me. But I’m bigger and stronger and I’m here to prove nothing else matters. Nothing matters to me but you. I want you—no conditions, no stipulations. I want the woman with a big brain and a bigger heart. The woman with courage and an incredible smile. The woman who can’t speak Italian, can’t cook and doesn’t know a touchdown from a triple play. I want you because I cannot imagine living without you. I will love you every single day. And I want all of yours. Forever.”
A collective breath was drawn. And held.
“Professor Serafina Luca, will you marry me?”
Tears rolled down her face and she stared down at the man she loved more than she’d ever dreamed possible. He was her world. He had given her family. He’d saved her life. He made her scream with pleasure and laugh with joy. He was her everything. He was hers.
She threw back her head and laughed.
“Yes! I will! Yes!”
* * * * *
About the Author
Following a career as a stage performer and award-winning cabaret singer, Lise Horton turned her untamable creative energies to writing romance. She has published short fiction in erotic romance anthologies, has finaled in several contests and was the first-place winner of the Kathryn Hayes Love & Laughter Contest in 2010. She served for more than five years on the RWA/NYC Chapter board, including a year as president in 2012.
Lise lives in a suburb of Manhattan with a rescued racing greyhound, Angus, and entertains visits from her special-needs adult brother. She’s worked marketing jobs for
Psychology Today
and
Rolling Stone
magazines, as a contracts coordinator for the stage directors union, a “garmento” in the fashion district, stints as a bartender and apprentice diamond gemstone grader. Lise now works in New York City at a prominent entertainment law firm.
When not writing sizzling-hot, New York–set romance stories of feisty men and women, she reads and gardens in her National Wildlife Federation official wildlife habitat yard.
Words of Lust
is her first novel. She owes thanks to her indefatigable mother, RWA/NYC, the Hot & Bothered crew and the encouragement of her beloved friend, the late writer Milton T. Burton.
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ISBN: 9781426896323
Copyright © 2013 by Lise Horton
Edited by Alissa Davis
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