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Or did she lay there until she could walk again?
When I feel my cock start to rise again, I push myself away from the wall, restless and frustrated.
Am I forgetting who I am?
Look at me, pressing my ear to a door, naked and damp, eavesdropping like a sissy boy spying on his crush.
I’m Silent Night, the Godfather of the Barone clan.
Angrily, I march to the bed, but the gold bracelet on the bed stand takes my mind back to the girl on the other side of the door.
I’m going crazy for Francesca, and if I’m being honest with myself, it didn’t start today. Nor did it start yesterday. Heck, it didn’t even start the day she walked into Franco Barbieri’s office in her appalling gothic costume. It’d taken all my effort not to burst into laughter in front of Franco.
She thought a bit of ugly make-up and some fake tattoos would discourage me from marrying her, but I’d seen her way before then, and I knew what was beneath the stick-on shaggy eyebrows and scorpion neck tattoos.
Franco Barbieri’s words float through my mind again.“Have you told her?”
Only Franco, Paulo, and I know the truth, and it will remain that way. Paulo is dead and now there is only Franco and I left holding the truth. If Francesca thinks I married her because of Terra de Barbiera, I will let her believe that. The truth will only complicate things and give her power over me.
The last thing I want is for Francesca to be aware of how much power she has over me. She has me wrapped around her finger and doesn’t even know it.
It’s not wise to give anyone that much leverage over me.
Chapter Fourteen
VALENTINO
“How do you always look so fucking good?” Roberto asks, walking into my study the following morning.
I finish knotting my tie and turn away from the window, where I was watching Francesca talk and laugh on the lawn with the other women. We’re all ready to head to Castillo Dimora, where Nonna Isadora, the matriarch of the family, lives. That’s where they’re throwing the party for Francesca and me.
“Don’t patronize me, Roberto,” I say, meeting his green gaze from across the desk. “I threatened to shoot your brother; I know you want to kill me. I’ll let you know that I do not regret it.”
The only reason I’m being reasonable with Roberto is because, aside from being family, I genuinely like the guy.
“You shouldn’t regret it either,” Roberto says, reaching for the glass of brandy I’d poured for myself. “If that were me, I would have killed him for talking about my woman that way.”
“I didn’t kill him.”
“I would have.”
Our gazes meet for a fleeting moment before we both laugh. He drinks from my brandy glass before handing it over. I finishthe rest and slam the glass on the desk. “Whose great idea was it to throw this surprise party?”
“Nonna Isadora.”
“She must be finally losing it.”
“I’m going to tell her that,” he says sassily and walks towards the door.
“Do it, and you’ll be lying next to Matteo in his coffin.”
He laughs. “God, if they only knew what a softie you really are.”
“The Japanese sword looks like a work of art until your blood is dripping from its blade.”
“I have a Japanese sword. Wouldn’t be without one when the going gets tough,” he says and slides me a cryptic glance.
Then we walk up the hallway and out of the French doors. Everyone is dressed splendidly, but my pearl shines brighter than all. I cannot look away from her, even when the women stop talking and turn to watch my approach.