Page 141 of Lupo

She jumps in and comes up laughing. "Did you see?"

"I saw!" I call back. "Very good!"

She does it again. And again. Perfecting her technique.

Emilia appears on the patio, wiping her hands on her apron. "Elena! Want to come help me gather eggs from the chickens? And we need to pick basil for tonight's pasta!"

Elena's face lights up. "Can I, Mama?"

"Of course, baby. Go ahead."

She scrambles out of the pool, wrapping herself in a towel. "I'm coming, Emilia!"

"Dry off first,” Emilia says. “Then we'll go together."

Elena dries off quickly, chattering to Emilia about which chickens laid eggs this morning. Emilia listens patiently, taking Elena's hand as they walk toward the chicken coop.

One of the guards follows at a discrete distance. Always watching. Always protecting.

Lupo swims over to me the moment they're gone, his movements smooth and powerful. When he reaches me, he wraps his arms around my waist, pulling me close.

"Perfect timing," he murmurs against my ear.

"Did you plan that interruption with Emilia?"

"Maybe." His hands slide along my back, his touch making me shiver despite the warm water. "Have I told you today how much I love you?"

"Twice. But I'll never get tired of hearing it."

"I love you." He kisses my temple. "Marry me."

I laugh. "I already did."

"Marry me again. Every day. Forever."

"You're ridiculous."

"I'm happy." He pulls back to look at me, his eyes serious now. "I never thought I could be this happy. Never thought I deserved it."

"You do deserve it."

"Maybe. Or maybe I just got lucky." He brushes a wet strand of hair from my face. "Either way, I'm keeping you."

"That’s good because I'm not going anywhere."

His hands move lower, his touch becoming less innocent. "Elena will be occupied with Emilia for at least twenty minutes."

"Lupo—"

"The pool house is right there." His lips trail along my neck. "And I want to be alone with my wife."

I glance toward the house nervously. "What if someone sees us heading to the pool house?"

"Let them see." His lips trail along my neck. "We're married. We're allowed to be bad."

"Still." I can feel myself blushing. "It's the middle of the afternoon."

"The best time." He grins wickedly. "No one expects it. That's what makes it perfect."