Page 35
Story: Marrying the Enemy
“No. But he’s embarrassed to talk about it. They’re still figuring out how to treat it, but you need that information as you think about Dom’s proposal.”
“Because Dad’s not immortal? Marrying a Blackwood could kill him, Nico.”
“If you decide to marry Dom, I’ll talk to Dad,” Nico said heavily. “Make him see why it’s a good idea.”
“It’s not a good idea,” she cried, letting her pent-up emotions get the better of her. “You and Dom are grown men. Quit fighting. You don’t need me in the middle of it.”
“We do,” he said grimly. “I do.” He drew a breath, signaling reluctance to continue. “I said there are two things you need to know.” This one sounded like a biggie.
“Tell me,” she insisted as the silence drew out.
“You know we took a bath when the economy tanked. I made some decisions—for which I take full responsibility,” he stressed. “But they were based on the assumption that you and Logan were locked and loaded.”
“Oh, my God.” She closed her eyes and covered them with her free hand, glad she was still sitting down.
“Mom made it sound like you two were going to happen. Logan did,” Nico insisted.
“But you didn’t ask me.”
“No. I didn’t. I’m asking you now, though.”
“Asking me what, exactly?” She dropped her hand and popped her eyes open, but she could only see a blur of blue beyond the window. A cold shiver entered her chest.
“To consider Dom. Seriously.”
“Nico.”
“He knows he has my back to a wall. This isn’t Mom wanting you to marry her bridge partner’s son. This ends the attacks and gives us new resources. This is something we need, Li-li.”
He hadn’t called her that in years. It was the pet name the family had used when she was very small.
Bring your dolls into my room, Li-li. I won’t let the boys bother you.
“Are you still there?” Nico asked.
“Yes,” she said in a small voice.
“I know I was holding you back at work. I thought I was protecting you from seeing how bad things were. That’s how Dad always did things. He carried the worries so no one else had to. Being on the inside comes with a lot of responsibility. Hard choices and heavy burdens. It’s not as great as you thought it would be, is it?”
“It’s not fair to put them on me now! Like this,” she said crossly.
“No, it’s not. And I know you like to see yourself as Nonna Maria, living life on your own terms, willing to run away and elope for love, but she left her family high and dry when she did that, Eve. Are you going to do the same?”
She swallowed a sob of helplessness.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
WHEN DOM ARRIVED back at Eve’s, he was unsure that she would come to dinner or even open the door. Had that been a tantrum earlier? Or her real answer?
He took the umbrella his driver offered him and moved down the path illuminated by hidden bulbs beneath the shrubs. As he hit the damp fragrance of the rose garden, the front door opened.
Eve’s snug satin trousers shimmered above laced ankle boots. Below the mock turtle collar of her cashmere top a wide cutout revealed her collarbone and upper chest. Her long raincoat flared open like a cape as she strode toward him on those endless legs of hers.
She punched his breath clean out of him. He wanted to take a fistful of her black hair and press her to the ground and not come up for air until they were covered in grass stains and smelled of crushed rose petals.
And each other.
She stopped under the umbrella and looked up from the clutch she had just closed.
“Because Dad’s not immortal? Marrying a Blackwood could kill him, Nico.”
“If you decide to marry Dom, I’ll talk to Dad,” Nico said heavily. “Make him see why it’s a good idea.”
“It’s not a good idea,” she cried, letting her pent-up emotions get the better of her. “You and Dom are grown men. Quit fighting. You don’t need me in the middle of it.”
“We do,” he said grimly. “I do.” He drew a breath, signaling reluctance to continue. “I said there are two things you need to know.” This one sounded like a biggie.
“Tell me,” she insisted as the silence drew out.
“You know we took a bath when the economy tanked. I made some decisions—for which I take full responsibility,” he stressed. “But they were based on the assumption that you and Logan were locked and loaded.”
“Oh, my God.” She closed her eyes and covered them with her free hand, glad she was still sitting down.
“Mom made it sound like you two were going to happen. Logan did,” Nico insisted.
“But you didn’t ask me.”
“No. I didn’t. I’m asking you now, though.”
“Asking me what, exactly?” She dropped her hand and popped her eyes open, but she could only see a blur of blue beyond the window. A cold shiver entered her chest.
“To consider Dom. Seriously.”
“Nico.”
“He knows he has my back to a wall. This isn’t Mom wanting you to marry her bridge partner’s son. This ends the attacks and gives us new resources. This is something we need, Li-li.”
He hadn’t called her that in years. It was the pet name the family had used when she was very small.
Bring your dolls into my room, Li-li. I won’t let the boys bother you.
“Are you still there?” Nico asked.
“Yes,” she said in a small voice.
“I know I was holding you back at work. I thought I was protecting you from seeing how bad things were. That’s how Dad always did things. He carried the worries so no one else had to. Being on the inside comes with a lot of responsibility. Hard choices and heavy burdens. It’s not as great as you thought it would be, is it?”
“It’s not fair to put them on me now! Like this,” she said crossly.
“No, it’s not. And I know you like to see yourself as Nonna Maria, living life on your own terms, willing to run away and elope for love, but she left her family high and dry when she did that, Eve. Are you going to do the same?”
She swallowed a sob of helplessness.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
WHEN DOM ARRIVED back at Eve’s, he was unsure that she would come to dinner or even open the door. Had that been a tantrum earlier? Or her real answer?
He took the umbrella his driver offered him and moved down the path illuminated by hidden bulbs beneath the shrubs. As he hit the damp fragrance of the rose garden, the front door opened.
Eve’s snug satin trousers shimmered above laced ankle boots. Below the mock turtle collar of her cashmere top a wide cutout revealed her collarbone and upper chest. Her long raincoat flared open like a cape as she strode toward him on those endless legs of hers.
She punched his breath clean out of him. He wanted to take a fistful of her black hair and press her to the ground and not come up for air until they were covered in grass stains and smelled of crushed rose petals.
And each other.
She stopped under the umbrella and looked up from the clutch she had just closed.
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