Page 39

Chapter 38

EIGHT YEARS IN HIDING

“Hey, there are my favorite lovebirds,” Fiero said as soon as his face popped up on the FaceTime call. I was sitting on Dane’s lap with his arm wrapped around my waist.

“What’s going on, Fi?” my husband asked. We’d both been anxious since he’d texted earlier and said we needed to talk. It had to be important if he was interrupting our trip.

“First of all, how is Treviso? I haven’t been to Italy in years.”

“Completely magical,” I sighed, tilting my head to rest against Dane’s. “I’ve gained approximately forty pounds in the past three days.”

“She’s crushing my legs, bro,” my smartass husband said, giving my thigh an affectionate pat to assure me he was kidding.

He’d brought me to Treviso, the home of tiramisù, because the dessert had a special meaning to us. Dane had made it for me for breakfast on my first birthday away from my family, and when I thought back, that was probably the first pivotal moment that led me from hatred to love of this man. He’d done his best to make the difficult day not so crappy for me.

“Glad you two are having fun,” Fiero said, picking up a glass and taking a long sip of the amber liquid inside, which surprised me. With the time difference, I knew it had to be around nine in the morning there. Then he ran a hand back and forth over the top of his head before sliding it down his face. He had the same eyes and dark hair as my husband, but that’s where the similarity ended. Besides the obvious lack of facial hair, his facial features were sharper.

“What’s wrong?” Dane asked, and I could feel the tension in his body.

“Luca was arrested last night.”

Boom. It was like a bomb had exploded inside my chest and filled me with tiny shrapnel of hope. “For what?” I asked quickly.

“Murder.”

Those two syllables had my eyes widening, but before I could say anything else, Dane jumped in. “What happened?”

“There was an altercation in an alley in midtown two nights ago. Luca shot a guy who was some kind of mid-level arms dealer. There was apparently a witness who came forward and identified him as the shooter.”

Every vein in my body thrummed with excitement. “So he’s in jail?”

Fiero snorted and took another drink. “He was , but he made bail and is on his way home as we speak.”

“Who’s the witness?” Dane inquired, tightening his hold around my waist.

“No clue, but the prosecutor will have to divulge that if they go to trial…” He let the words hang in the air, and Dane immediately picked up what he was putting down.

“And then Luca will know and can get to them.” His voice sounded resigned, and I sagged back against him, remembering Robert and Dane’s stories about how Luca Cappitani dealt with witnesses against him. Fear. Intimidation. Threats. More death.

Fiero nodded. “Maybe it will be different this time. He’s never been brought up on murder charges before. It’s usually weapons or racketeering or something.”

“You weren’t involved, right?” Dane asked his brother, concern lacing his voice.

A lascivious smile took over his face. “No, I was at the club that evening, and then I spent the rest of the night in the company of a very lovely lady.”

I smiled, only rolling my eyes slightly. “Anyone special?”

“Oh, she was special all right. She had a tongue piercing, and the things she could do—”

“That’s enough,” Dane broke in. “My wife doesn’t need to hear about your exploits.”

“Yeah, we have enough of our own exploits to deal with,” I retorted, making my husband choke and my brother-in-law roar with laughter.

The latter shook his finger at the screen. “You’ve met your match with this one, bro.”

“No lie. She gives me shit all the time,” Dane said, dropping a kiss on my shoulder. “So you think the charges will stick?”

Fiero shrugged. “Who the fuck knows? It depends on if the idiots in charge can manage to keep the witness alive. I’m sure Luca’s lawyers will postpone the trial as long as possible. Could be years.”

Dane rubbed a comforting hand up and down my side. “Thanks for letting us know, Fi. Anything else?”

He waved his hand. “Nah, you two go do… whatever it is married people do.”

A wicked grin spread over my lips, and I waggled my eyebrows at my brother-in-law. “Oh, you’d be surprised at—”

The rest of my teasing statement was muffled when Dane covered my mouth with his palm and chuckled. “That’s not for my brother’s ears, Wildcat,” he informed me before saying, “Later, Fi. Keep us updated when you can.”

With the press of his finger, he disconnected the call and pulled me closer. I swiveled until I was straddling him on the cushy taupe couch in our hotel room. But his normally direct gaze lingered somewhere around my chin.

“What’s wrong? This is good news, isn’t it? We might be able to go home if Luca goes to jail.”

His brown eyes finally met mine, and I read the conflict there. “You’ll be able to go back, E, but I’m not sure about me.” My heart sank at his words. “When you reappear, Luca will suspect I’m alive too. I’m sure there will be media coverage out the ass, and even with how different I look now, he’ll know it’s me when photographers inevitably take photos of us. Even from inside prison walls, he’ll still wield his power.”

“And he’ll come after you,” I stated, and Dane nodded.

“Neither of us will be safe if I’m with you.”

I leaned forward and rested my forehead to his. “Let’s not think about that right now. Like Fiero said, it will probably be a while before this goes to trial, so we have time to formulate a plan. I won’t go back without you.”

I was shocked at how easily that last sentence fell from my lips. All I’d wanted for the past eight years was to get back to my family, but now… Now I knew I couldn’t live without the man who wrapped his arms around my waist and jerked me close until my chest was flush with his.

“I want you to be with your family, Eden. I want that so much for you.”

Cupping his face with my hands, I pressed a soft kiss to his pillowy lips. “You are part of my family now. You’re my husband.” Our eyes held, and I let him read the truth of every word before kissing him again. “Now let’s go enjoy this beautiful city together.”

April in Treviso was beautiful, the weather a comfortable sixty-seven degrees. I was dressed in a sky-blue maxi dress and a downy white cardigan since some of the more historical tourist spots required “modest attire” for women. Dane was in jeans and a long-sleeved black T-shirt that was just tight enough to hint at the muscular physique beneath.

We’d hit a couple museums yesterday, but today, our trek was aimless and unscripted. We ate gelato and walked along the cobblestone streets, admiring the beautiful frescoes and architecture.

A few hours into our wandering, a few droplets of rain dotted the stone beneath our feet and tapped our heads and shoulders.

“Guess we should get back to the hotel,” Dane said, stopping to look up at the graying sky.

“A little rain never hurt anyone,” I said, lifting my chin to allow a few splatters to splash onto my face.

“Tell that to flood victims,” he smarted, and I giggled.

“It’s only a sprinkle, and besides, I like the rain. It’s cleansing, like a renewal of your soul. In fact, to some, rain is considered good luck.”

Dane laughed and twirled me in a circle beneath his arm before tugging me close. He looked so much younger than his thirty-three years when he just let go and had fun. I had just turned twenty-seven the month before, though since Robert had fudged our ages eight years ago, our IDs and paperwork listed Dane as thirty-five and me as thirty. My husband liked to joke that those were our ages in “Dane and Eden years,” similar to the concept of “dog years.”

“I’m sure you have examples in that brilliant mind of yours,” he said, his tone a lilting inquisition.

“Mmm, I’m sure I do.”

He brushed his lips across mine and swiped a damp strand of hair from my forehead. “Enlighten me, Wildcat.”

I was a bit love-drunk from the way he was holding me, touching me, looking at me like I was his world, but my brain managed to remember something I’d heard once.

“Let’s see… in Hindu culture, they believe marriage is like a knot, so rain on your wedding day is supposed to make the marriage stronger because a wet knot is harder to untie.”

The smile faded from Dane’s face, replaced by a narrowing of his eyebrows. “I should have given you a real wedding.”

“What?” I laughed. “No. Totally not necessary.”

But he was fixated on something behind me, and a second later, he grabbed my hand and took off at a jog—pulling me behind him—toward a large white building with Corinthian columns. The church of Sant ‘Agnese.

“Dane, what are we doing?” I hissed as we trotted up the short stairs.

“Getting married,” he said, wiping his feet against the concrete, and I followed suit. Then he pushed open the large, brown wooden doors, and we entered the old church. The air instantly changed, the sweet smell of incense melding with a peace that relaxed the senses.

To my surprise, Dane dipped his fingertips in the holy water font and crossed himself before pulling me forward into the nave. The church was stunning in shades of white with dark wood pews and huge arches near the ceiling, which was so tall, I had to crane my neck to see the top. My gaze roamed slowly, taking in the beautiful side altars and landing on a majestic painting in an intricate stucco frame above the altar.

“Wow,” I breathed.

“Indeed.” Dane kissed the top of my head and said, “Wait here for a minute,” before he headed up the center aisle. When he got to the front, he turned to face me and nodded.

Okaaay, I guess we were getting married. As soon as I started walking up the aisle, he held up his phone, and I heard “Here Comes the Bride” from his speakers. I felt a little silly and reckless, walking in off the street and traipsing down the aisle of an ancient church to marry the man who I already called my husband. But I loved the spontaneity of the moment, so I went with it.

Dane’s grin was wide and boyish, and I found myself striding more quickly, not staying in time with the slow tune at all. When I reached him, he took both of my hands, and we stared at each other with goofy grins until the music ended.

“Benvenuto,” a scratchy voice said, and we both startled slightly as we turned our heads to find a very old priest standing in front of the altar, only a couple feet away. We’d apparently been so lost in each other, we hadn’t heard his approach. He had deep wrinkles on either side of his mouth that indicated he smiled a lot, and two furrows between his brows told me he probably scrunched them together while in prayer.

I dipped my head respectfully toward the man, allowing Dane to do the talking since his Italian was way better than mine.

“Ciao, padre.” He said a few more things I didn’t catch, but I assumed he was telling the priest we were already married because he held up our hands so he could see our rings.

“Ah, continua,” the old man said before handing Dane a pristine white rose with a trimmed stem and giving him a wink. My husband took the flower and tucked it behind my ear.

“He wants us to continue.” He smiled nervously and said, “Maybe I didn’t think this all the way through. I would have prepared something brilliant and romantic to say.”

I laughed and rubbed my thumb over his wedding band. “I’ll go first. I’m pretty good at talking, though I’m not making any promises that it will blow your drawers off.”

“You do have the gift of gab, Wildcat.”

He wasn’t lying. “Okay, here goes.” I swallowed hard and began. “We didn’t have the typical beginning to a romance. There was no meet-cute where we bumped into each other in a coffee shop and I spilled my coffee on your suit just before you had an important business meeting.”

Dane chuckled. “Accurate.”

“I thought you were my poison, but it turns out… you’re my perfect antidote. You healed me, Dane. Every single day, you made me better. Every single day, you were there. You never let me feel alone, and I’m so happy and proud to be your wife. I love you, Dane Osbourne.” I lifted his left hand and kissed his wedding ring before saying the words he had inscribed on the inside of mine. “In the light and in the darkness… I choose you.”

“Wow, babe,” he said, his eyes shiny with emotion. “Not sure how to follow that. I’m going to sound like a bumbling idiot.”

A giggle escaped me, and I lowered my voice to a whisper. “Newsflash: I’ll love you anyway.”

His shoulders straightened, and he closed the rest of the distance between us, resting his hands on my waist. “I think I started falling for you the first time I saw you. It was a video that turned my stomach, but then I saw two blue eyes, a stubborn, pretty little mouth, and two middle fingers. You had me then, Eden. You captured my heart, and I don’t ever want it back.”

His voice clogged a little and I rested my hands on his chest, my right one directly over his heart. It was beating a rapid tempo beneath my palm. “Good, because it’s mine now, and you’re not getting it back.”

“You are my everything, Eden Osbourne, and I love all your sides. Soft and strong. Sweet and sassy. I never knew how lonely my life was until I found your love. You fill me up, and I will always choose you.” Then, like I had done to him, he took my hand and lifted it to kiss my ring before repeating the inscription in perfect Italian. “Nella luce e nell’oscurità, scelgo te.”

We stared at each other for a long while, a single tear escaping down my cheek as its mirror twin slid down Dane’s. Then another hand closed over ours, and we both swiveled our heads to look into the sweet face of the priest.

“Il matrimonio è un'alleanza. Invoco su di voi le benedizioni di Dio. Puoi baciare la tua sposa,” he intoned, his voice quiet but strong.

My Italian may have been a little rusty, but I recognized that last part. He’d told Dane to kiss his bride. And he did. With a sweep of his arm beneath my lower back, my husband dipped me low and kissed me with a passion that was probably a bit scandalous, given the setting.

His other hand cradled the back of my head, making me feel safe and loved, even though I was bent backward almost in half. Our tongues tangled, and I wove my hands into his slightly damp hair until he finally pulled back with a soft peck and lifted me upright.

I wasn’t sure how long we’d been kissing, but there was no sign of the priest. Before I could think too much on it, my husband scooped me into his arms—bridal style, of course—and ran up the aisle. We were both laughing like maniacs, even when we made it outside the beautiful church to find that the evening sky had opened up and was dumping its contents all over Treviso.

“Put me down, and let’s run together in the rain,” I ordered, and Dane dropped me to my feet, grasping my hand in his. It felt warm compared to the coolness of the rain, and we ran back to the hotel, laughing like little kids on an adventure. When we reached the columned portico at the front, we shook the wetness from our hair as the uniformed doorman looked on with an indulgent smile.

“Buona sera, Signore e Signora Osbourne,” he said, handing us two plush white towels from a rack beside the gold and glass double doors. Talk about service…

We returned his greeting and graciously accepted the cloths before doing our best to pat off the worst of the soaking we’d endured. “Come on, Wildcat,” Dane said, tossing our towels in the wicker hamper provided outside the entrance. “Let’s go consummate our marriage.”

“You realize we’ve slept together many times, right? Or have you forgotten?” I teased quietly as our feet squished over the fine Carrara marble floor.

We entered the lift and the elevator operator pressed the button for our floor without us having to tell him. Dane’s breath was warm against my chilled skin when he bent to whisper, “I remember every second I’ve ever been inside your perfect pussy, wife. The feel of you wrapped around me will be the last thought in my head before I die, but I want to give you the wedding night you deserve.” His words only induced more chills, and it had nothing to do with the cool air hitting my damp skin.

My teeth were chattering by the time we entered our hotel room, and Dane pulled me directly into the small bathroom and turned on the shower to heat up. Then he undressed us both and slid the rose from my hair, setting it carefully on the marble countertop before taking out my contact lenses.

The bathroom was large, sumptuous even, but the navy-and-white tiled shower was tiny, barely big enough for one person. “That’s an awfully small space,” I mused, and Dane flashed a lascivious smile.

“I’m aware. We’ll just have to stand really close to each other.”

I stepped backward into the stall, pulling my man along with me until my back hit the wall. “I think I can make that sacrifice.” With our bodies plastered together, we turned in slow circles, letting the water hit us from all sides and warm us. Dane hummed the wedding march, and I smiled against his bare chest. “Thank you for today. For everything but especially the wedding.”

He buried his nose in the top of my hair. “One day, I’ll give you a real one, Wildcat. With flowers and a dress and your family there.” His voice turned softer, more vulnerable. “If you think they’ll accept me.”

Lifting my head, I looked up at him. “Of course they will.”

He snorted out a sound of derision. “I’m not exactly sure I’m the kind of man they had planned for you.”

I directed my best scowl at him. “Don’t talk about my husband that way. I chose him, remember?” That made him smile, and he lifted me until my legs curled around his waist.

“I love you, Mrs. Osbourne.”

He was already hard, and I rocked my hips, sliding my pussy up and down his strong length. “I love you, Mr. Osbourne.”

Dane stopped our circling dance and pressed my back against one of the walls of the shower, the tiles quickly warming beneath my flesh. His cock was on fire though, and the head of it swelled as I found it with my clit, getting me wet and slick against him.

“Fuck your wife, Dane,” I demanded, and he groaned shifting his hips until we were lined up for the perfect entrance. Then he pushed upward, filling me slowly as I stretched to accommodate his size. “This is my favorite part, when you’re working your way inside me. Okay, maybe second favorite because I really like the orgasm part.”

He chuckled. “Ah, yes. The grand finale is always stellar.” Then all reasonable conversation was forgotten as Dane switched to the dirty-mouthed man I adored. “My favorite part is when your pussy tightens up and tries to resist me until she recognizes her master. Then she accepts me so fucking beautifully like the good little cunt she is.”

He began to move, fucking up into me with measured thrusts that drew his name from the back of my throat as his mouth dropped to the side of my neck.

“Dane, yes!” As always, he located my G-spot like he was born to do it, and the thick ridge around the crown of his cock rode against it. “Right there. Don’t stop or I’ll divorce you.”

My husband chuckled before biting the tender spot where my shoulder met my neck, no doubt marking me as his. “Is that so? Even when I can do this?” He rolled his hips, touching spots I was convinced no other man could find, and his ass cheeks clenched beneath my heels. I loved the way Dane fucked with his whole body, but that ass… Good god! He had the perfect man butt, firm, hard, and completely biteable.

With a deep grind, he abraded my clit with his pubic bone, and my head fell back against the tiles. Through hooded eyes, I watched as Dane ramped up his efforts, and a feral glint sparkled in his brown eyes. “Hands above your head, Wildcat,” he demanded, and I clasped my fingers together and lifted them.

Holding beneath my ass with one hand, Dane grasped my wrists and pinned them to the shower wall as the rhythm of our joining quickened. His hot mouth closed around one of my nipples, and I was totally at his mercy, lost in the pleasure only he could deliver.

“I’m close,” I panted, and he switched to the other breast, adding a scrape of teeth to his repertoire. The warm water sluiced over our writhing bodies, and the fever in my core rose until…

“Fuck, I feel it, baby girl. I feel you coming. Give it to me.”

My hips churned in tandem with his, and I definitely gave it to him, every bit of myself. I’m pretty sure my soul left my body when I came so hard it could have been measured on the Richter scale.

Dane only went harder, taking me higher as the sounds of wet flesh slapping together blended with the pattering water and the grunts of raw sex. And then with one… two… three more thrusts, he stilled, spilling himself deep inside me.

I blinked sleepily, my body completely used and loose, and watched my husband’s gorgeous face, contorted in the agony of pure rapture. He released my hands slamming his palm against the tiles beside my head as he pulsed inside me, his lips parted and panting against my breast.

He was absolutely the most beautiful specimen of man I’d ever seen in my life. His lean, hard muscles finally started to relax and lose their tension as his back heaved with harsh breaths.

Lifting his head, he flashed a crooked smile that gave me all the flutters and said, “Give me about a month to recover, and we’ll do that again.”

Of course it didn’t take nearly that long. After we dressed and had dinner in our room, Dane was ready for round two, but this time was in our spacious bed beneath the crisp, sky-blue sheets. I was on top, my body flush with his as we made slow, sensual love together.

After we were done and my husband was snoozing lightly beside me, I crawled from the bed and retrieved the white rose he’d placed in my hair earlier. Finding the small stack of books I’d brought, I opened one of them and put the flower in the back before closing it and stacking the other books on top to press it into a keepsake.

I knew it was only an impromptu “ceremony,” but that made it even more special to me because Dane was not exactly known as the king of spontaneity. I wanted to remember it. Forever.