Page 26

Santino had been telling her he loved her and wanted to marry her pretty regularly after month one, but when he showed up one day with a ring and first-class tickets to Aruba in month two, she was still surprised.

They’d already gotten flak from his mom and hers because of his “tender age” so they decided to go for it somewhere without judgment, where they could celebrate their union freely without warnings of doom and catastrophe.

They’d shared the news later, at the villa in Italy during San Gennaro a month after the marriage, where Nonno and Gina had thrown them a big party, ignoring Lina’s simmering anger the whole time.

There was always a plan to have a bigger, proper wedding sometime down the line, but it never happened.

Vanessa shrugged it off. “It would have ended up being a big waste of money since we didn’t stay together, so it’s cool. I flew out of town to a wedding once, paid my own flight and hotel. When they broke up less than two years later, I was so annoyed. I was about to ask for my money back.”

She was joking, but that stung. Ignoring the sensation, and her dismissiveness, Santino squared his shoulders. “Next time.”

“You mean next time you get married? Yes, you definitely should do that with your next bride,” she said with a taunting smile.

“Next time we get married,” he corrected her.

“No, I was right the first time. I can picture it. You, a beautiful girl. Petite, with long wavy hair down to her butt.” She gave him the side-eye as she stepped carefully on the cobblestones. That was Antoinette’s description to a T. “If not her, then your mom probably has someone lined up.”

“She doesn’t, actually,” Santino said, and grinned when her eyebrow rose in surprise. “She knows better than to even try it, but she hasn’t tried.”

“Huh. She’s finally learned not to interfere in your love lives.

Well, good for you. Choose your own adventure,” Vanessa said, raising her chin and tossing one of her braids behind her.

“Get someone your own age or maybe even a little younger. Make sure she can give you lots of babies.” Her snark was teasing, but there was an edge to it.

“What about you? Were you really gonna cheat on me with that guy if I hadn’t stepped in? Because I can’t picture you with red-headed kids.”

“Cheat on you?” she said, stopping in her tracks amid a passing wave of German-speaking tourists. The tourists parted like a grumbly Red Sea as they streamed past. “How would I be cheating on you when we’re legally separated and haven’t lived together for three years?”

“It’s still cheating,” he insisted. “But I’m willing to let it go since he’s out of the picture. At least, I’m assuming he is since you went back on the app. Which one of you broke it off?”

“That’s none of your business, but you can guess who, after the stunt you pulled.

” Vanessa resumed walking, fanning her face with her hat as if hot and annoyed.

“And I was going to have me a bunch of babies with the biggest, kinkiest red hair and a ton of freckles. They would have been adorable. Thanks for fucking that whole thing up.”

Normally, it would have made him angry picturing her ripe with another man’s baby, but the way she put it made him laugh instead.

“You’re welcome. But you needed the reminder that this is mine and the only baby that’s coming out of here will also be mine,” he said, reaching over and putting his hand on her belly.

“And the only acceptable hair colors will be brown or blond.

I think a big blond ‘fro would be a lot cuter than red, anyway.”

She pushed his hand off after a moment, but he grasped her fingers in his. She tried to let go. He wouldn’t let her. He locked their fingers together and kept walking.

“I am curious…maybe I don’t want to know,” she resumed after a short silence, hands still intertwined. Her fingers relaxed from clawed to comfortable. It felt natural, the way it used to, as their footsteps fell into the same rhythm.

“What?”

“You really haven’t dated anybody in all this time that you could see yourself getting serious with?”

Santino quirked an eyebrow. “I haven’t dated anybody, period. I’m already married, remember?” He lifted his free left hand to indicate the ring. “No dates. No sex.”

“You’re seriously telling me you haven’t dated and haven’t had sex with anybody else besides her ?”

They were passing more shops and cafés as music drifted over them. The warmth of the day contributed to the rising heat in his face at her question. He tamped down the frustration; he’d known at some point that topic would come up.

“I never slept with Antoinette, not before you or when we were together. And no, there hasn’t been anybody else after you.

I’m not gonna lie and say I haven’t had offers, but even thinking about it made me want what I was missing even more.

And what I was missing was you. Us.” He exhaled briskly.

“I never understood why you thought I’d want anybody else after what it was like with us.

I call you tesoro for a reason. You’re a diamond.

My diamond. Anything after you? It’s just a rock. ”

Vanessa laughed, but her eyes flared with warmth. Her fingers tightened around his.

“Okay, that was good. I’m gonna have to give you points for that one,” she said, her voice still filled with amusement. “I kinda…” Her laughter gave way to a wistful expression.

“You miss it too,” he said, filling in the blanks for her. “Want me to take you back to the room and refresh your recollection, like you say in court?”

Oh shit. She wasn’t supposed to know he’d been doing that, sneaking in to sit in the back at trials where she performed her magic.

Apparently, she’d taken his words to mean a general “you” when she rolled her eyes. “I’m pleading the Fifth.”

The day passed pleasantly after that. They spent time at a local museum checking out the statues, sculptures, and paintings, which he thought were pretty interesting. Vanessa had always encouraged him to take a formal drawing class just for the hell of it.

When she asked him if he’d done so, he replied, “Not yet. But I have been working on some shit. They’re not that good.”

That wasn’t true. Not to brag, but he thought they were pretty good. The problem was what he’d been drawing.

“Show me when we get back to the room,” she urged him.

After dinner, they had their fair share of drinks at a local bar, listening to some good bands before heading back up.

“Okay, I didn’t forget what you said about your stuff. Show me,” she said expectantly, sitting on the bed and crossing her legs.

“I told you, they’re not that great.”

“Since when has that stopped you? Show me.”

Santino hesitated, but now there was a look of suspicion on her face.

If he said flat out refused, she might think he was hiding something, and they’d be back to square fucking one in the trust department.

So, he bit the bullet and retrieved his sketchbook.

He got settled on the bed opposite her, flipping through the first set of pages slowly to stall for time.

Maybe she’d get bored and agree to skip the rest.

“I’ve been working on this superhero series. This dude, who I don’t have a name for yet.”

The man was big, muscular, blond, and bearing an axe. He had drawn motion lines indicating the hero could fly.

“He’s hot,” she giggled. Most likely, the drinks they’d had were still making her tipsy. “You should call him Joey Badass.”

“Cool, glad you like him.” He attempted to pull the book away, but she held on with determined fingers.

“What are you not trying to show me?” Vanessa asked, the suspicion dawning in her eyes all over again.

Fuck it. Let her see.

At first, he kept his eyes on the page, and she began flipping through the next set of drawings, glancing up to gauge her reaction when she paused and stared at the female character.

It wasn’t an accident that she looked like Vanessa in a form-fitting spandex suit and short cape.

His heart ticked away like a clock as she traced the character with her long, elegant fingers.

“She looks cool,” she remarked softly. The air was suddenly charged with electricity.

He nodded. “Yeah. I’m still working on her name, but I know what her traits are. She’s powerful, sexy. Real smart. Has this strong sense of right and wrong.”

“What’s her Kryptonite?” Vanessa was still looking at the drawing, not at him. “They always have to have some vulnerability, right? Perfect characters are boring. They don’t keep your attention for long.”

“She’s far from boring. And no, she’s not perfect.

She’s got a couple flaws.” Santino was dying to reach over and touch her, but he fought the urge.

She still wasn’t looking at him. The scent of her honeysuckle hair hit him right in the gut.

“Her problem is, she’s trapped in this invisible force field that goes wherever she goes.

It won’t let anyone in, and she can’t figure her way out. ”

Vanessa exhaled slowly, shakily. “Sounds intense for her.”

“Yeah. This guy,” he said, pointing to the page with the tall, built hero, “this guy’s quest is to defeat some bad guys who are out to hurt her.

I guess that plot needs more work but that’s basically it.

And then he has to figure out how to deactivate the force field so they can be together. So he can just love her.”

“Oh,” she said with a shaky breath. “What happens if he can’t?”

“Well, see, that can’t happen. The last time he tried, and it didn’t work, it almost killed him. He has to win. If he doesn’t, I don’t know what’s gonna happen to him.”

He’d spoken quietly, but his heart was thundering so loudly it was vibrating through his entire body.

Fit as he was, his chest was hardly strong enough to contain it or the surge of emotion flooding him while he waited to hear her response, suspended between wild hope and a sudden desperation.

He wished he could look into her eyes and see what she was feeling.

“She never asked for any of that,” she said.

Her voice was unsteady. “She never asked him to save her.” Vanessa swiped at her face, and that’s when he couldn’t hold back anymore.

He reached to touch her cheek and lean in for a kiss, but she pulled back.

“I’ve gotta pee. Too many shots.” Quickly, she got up, giving him a trembling smile, and raced to the bathroom.

Fuck. He hadn’t meant to say all that. It was clearly too much, too soon.

Trying not to be discouraged, he put the sketchpad away, put the lights on low, and stretched out as he heard the shower run.

It took willpower to stop himself from going in there and offering her his body for comfort, but he knew that would be an even bigger mistake.

Sure enough, when she emerged, she was wearing the full “don’t touch me” outfit again, from the bonnet to the scarf and robe.

Slipping in on the other side of the bed, she was still quiet. He assumed she was already asleep until she said, “I love your characters. You should publish it.”

That surprised him. She really thought that highly of his drawings? Before he could reach for her again, she said, “Good night.”

So close. He felt her heat, her energy, reaching out to him even if the rest of her was shutting down again.

His body flushing, he turned over to face the opposite direction.

Coiling tension heightened inside him at having to restrain himself yet again.

Every bit of him was hard, at the ready, but after what seemed like hours of listening to her breathing, he slowly wound down. Somehow, he managed to sleep.

Then there was softness and warmth against his jawline, something round in his hand, and something else firm and plump pressing into his hips.

Rhythmic breaths went from sleepy and slow to faster as his hard morning wood pressed deeper into that inviting plumpness.

A hard point pressed into his palm, and instinctively, he pincered it between two fingertips.

He came awake more fully, realizing the soft, cloth-covered globes cradling his hard dick was moving, and he was sliding up and down the crease.

Through her back, the vibrations of Vanessa’s heartbeat were stronger and faster.

Leaning forward, Santino pulled that scarf down and off, and it fluttered off the side of the bed.

Her breath fanned out in an unsteady rush.

Santino turned over abruptly. Vanella’s eyes widened when he trapped her between his hands on the bed and wouldn’t let her flee. Not this time.

“I—” she tried to say.

He leaned down and kissed her, not a gentle let’s-get-to-know-each-other-again kiss. This was rough, open-mouthed, his tongue invading, conquering, reclaiming what had already been his.

Resistance was not only futile. It was fucking over.