Page 61 of Runaway in the Mafia (The shadows of Cosa Nostra Chronicles #3)

CHAPTER FORTY-FOUR

AHANA

I was tired. The kind of bone tired that you get from sleepless nights and a mental marathon.

And a husband too far away. Jetlag and intense emotion plagued me, and I couldn’t tell if it was day or night.

Not that it mattered, anyway. I got that I couldn’t go home.

Didn’t want to either. When Pāpā said he’d take care of everything, I knew it wasn’t at the snap of his fingers.

He’d need time. I didn’t know how long. But one thing was certain.

I couldn’t visit home before he resolved the mess I’d made of my life.

On the bright side, though… at least this way I wouldn’t be around when Maa blew a fuse.

Did you really think me that weak, Ahana?

His words played like audio clips in my head.

Didn’t you know I’d choose your happiness?

I didn’t know what I’d thought. All I knew was I’d hurt the man I’d left behind. And the one I’d come back to. While I’d tried to keep them both safe.

I stepped into the elevator and leaned my back against it. I’d been in this hotel so many times for a lunch or a dinner when I lived in Delhi. But this time felt different. Probably because the carelessness I’d carried around of an unspoiled life wasn’t there to provide a rosy cloud over reality.

Go back to Italy to your husband.

I closed my eyes. If he’d accept me.

The door pinged. My eyes opened, and a mixed couple with a kid entered.

She looked like the Indian mother with a short crop of curly hair but had the father’s grey, blue eyes.

She must have been around six or seven. I caught myself smiling at the kid.

Crossing to an unimagined territory. If Vitale and I had children, what would they look like?

I’ll take care of everything.

I hoped he could.

The door pinged again on my floor. With a parting smile at the cute kid, I staggered out of the lift.

My loafers sank into the royal blue and sunshine yellow carpeting as I took a turn to the right and went in search of my room.

I passed wallpapered, glossy, gold walls, that didn’t dish out compliments but reflected my sunken eyes.

I didn’t know what I’d tell him. How I’d beg him to let me back in. Despair tore at my heart that he never might, and that thought alone brought on another intense migraine.

There was no choice. He had to let me in. And this time, I’d never let him go again. If Pāpā was going to risk it all for my happiness, the least I could do was to go back to the man who’d captured my heartbeat.

I stopped at my door. Fumbled with the key card.

I just needed one good night of sleep, and then I’d get on the flight Pāpā had booked for me in the morning.

The door clicked open. The cardholder already held a card in it.

The door thudded shut behind me. My eyeline moved beyond it.

My chest heaved. The bag in my hand dropped to the floor.

There was a surprise in the corner of the room.

“I was wondering how long it would take for you to get here.”

Tears burned at the back of my eye sockets. My throat went dry.

This man. He was a sight for sore eyes. Good enough to devour.

He sat lounging in the chair like he wore a suit, but only a towel was tucked around his hips.

I’d missed the sharp planes of his face, the glint in his eyes.

I’d missed everything that made him mine.

I pinched my hand. Was it real or was I dreaming?

My eyes drifted to the glass of whiskey next to him and the half-smoked cigar in his hand. It seemed too real to be a dream.

I wanted to ask him when he got here. How he got here. Why? How he was in my hotel room. Why he was only wearing a towel. And all I could come up with was, “Trying out the local delicacies?”

He gave me a lop-sided smile, and in it I saw the heartbreak I’d caused him. All because I had assumed Pāpā couldn’t handle it.

“Something like it.”

“What’s the verdict?”

“Not bad. But not as sweet as you.”

My head fell back on the door. The soft thud didn’t even resonate in me. My heart skidded off my rib cage. It was beating somewhere else. Too far down to be appropriate.

He frowned. “You planning to hang around the door or you going to come and show me you missed me?”

I smiled. “Did you miss me?”

“Fuck. Yes.”

“It’s only been four days.”

“Forty hours and thirty-two minutes.”

Relief, heavy and warm, seeped into the hollow of my chest. It’s going to be all right.

“Why did you come?”

“Why did you leave?”

“I had to talk to my father.”

“So did I.”

I stepped into the room. “He called you?”

He shrugged. “Might have.”

My heart skipped. Pāpā had arranged for the same room. “So he called you, like when?”

He gave an irritated sigh. “What’s with all the details?”

“When?” I insisted.

“Just before eight.”

“Sicilian time?”

He nodded.

“So,” I glanced at my watch. “You are here eighteen hours later?”

“I was here in fifteen.”

A quick jerk jump started my heart. “I love you.”

His gaze sparked. He sat up and leaned his elbows on his knees. “Come closer and tell that to me.”

With my heart on a platter, I walked up to him. Ran. He yanked me down on his lap and gripped my face in his hand. His tone was low, warm and rough. “Now tell me that again.”

“I love you.”

He buried his face in my neck and inhaled. “Good.”

“Good?” He sank his teeth into my skin, and I yelped. “Good is all you have?” I pulled his face off my shoulder and held it in my hands. “Anything you want to tell me?”

“Yes. If you ever run away again, I’m fucking you till next Sunday.”

“I didn’t run. You let me go.” He only growled at me. “You love me too?”

“No, I fucking don’t.” He gripped my hair and yanked it back. It bit painfully into my scalp. “But you need to stop seeping into my veins and crackling in my heart. You need to stop this fucking insanity from pounding in my pulse.”

A delicious smile spread across my lips. “Sounds like you love me.”

“Fuck no.” He smashed his lips onto mine. He did a good job of sucking the life out of me. Lifting off the chair, he walked us to the bed, tongue fucking me the whole time like there was no tomorrow to be had.

His erection nudged me, and then I lost touch with it and landed on the bed.

“Why won’t you say it?” I asked, frustrated.

A frown marred his forehead. “Don’t want to ruin it.”

“You won’t.”

“Carlo loved Mamma too.”

I sat up and crawled up to him. With my hand on his, I pulled him to the bed. “That’s not what you said.”

He didn’t budge. “Well, he did, in his own way.”

“Doesn’t matter. You’re not him.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah,” I confirmed.

A devilish smile crossed his lips. “How about I pretend I don’t?”

Why did I fight for this man again? “Okay.” I crawled away. “I’ll do the same.”

A hand cuffed my ankle and yanked me back to him. His gaze burned with dark irritation. “No fucking way.”

“So you love me?”

He gripped my chin and gazed into my soul. “I’d kill for you, mia ammaliatrice. In fact, I already have. Twice,” he proclaimed. Smugly.

I scrunched my nose up. “You’re such a romantic.” I kicked away from him and crawled up to the bedhead. “And I love you too.”

He answered by straddling me and ripping my dress in half.

I gaped at him. “Why would you—” He ripped my panties, ducked, and buried his head between.

“Never mind,” I moaned. His dark chuckle vibrated on my lips.

Then he sucked my clit and ate me out like a six-course meal, and I forgot what I was going to say.

“Fuck, I missed this,” he murmured against my lips and stuck two digits inside.

My hands pulled at his hair as I rocked against his head.

When he put his mouth on me again and set his fingers to work, I exploded around him, much like the fireworks on Independence Day.

He didn’t wait until I’d come down before he yanked the towel off him.

Then he settled between me with his thick erection in his hand and a question in his eyes.

“No need,” I confirmed.

His eyes set me on fire when he gripped my ass and sank all the way in. The way he groaned made me feel like I was his heaven. He held still. “Guess what?”

“What?”

He pulled my hands and locked them with his above my head.

His lips grazed my ear, and in the stillness of the room, he whispered three magical words.

For my ears only. “I fucking love you.” Well, four.

Then he lifted my leg and drove into me.

He was thick and hard. He pulsed and throbbed.

He was all mine. I pulled him in deeper and crawled my nails along his back.

He was as much mine as I was his. There really wasn’t a better tradition we could uphold.