Page 74 of Sins of the Orchid

Coming from a kid that had experienced death at such a young age, it was a miracle she had so much happiness. But somehow it didn’t surprise me that she refused to let anything affect her mood. I knew she struggled those first few months living in New York.

It surprised me when she opened up about her time in South America. From what I knew, she never spoke about it. Not to Adriano, not to her brothers, nor her father. Her trust hit me deep in my chest, her sorrow seeped into my heart, and her distress saturated through my skin and touched my soul. I wanted to make it all better for her. When she was that young girl on the sidewalk with shimmering eyes, a runny nose, and tears streaming down her face, to now, as a young woman that remembered the death of her mother and still grieved, I wanted to make it all better for her, comfort her. Make her happy.

I remembered when we first found her, and we came to a truce with the Bennetti family. Her old man would come to my Pà shattered, talking about her nightmares and screams at night. He was at his wits end; she refused to talk about it with anyone. That first year with Amore, I saw Bennetti break down more times than I cared to count. Nobody could accuse him of not loving his daughter.

For the first time, I could understand him because the sadness that lurked in her eyes as she talked about her time in Colombia was a tearjerker. A lump formed in my throat at seeing her pain. I wanted to take it all away, bear it for her so she wouldn’t have to. She still came through it all with such strength.

Mine.

Fierce protectiveness welled in my chest over her and grew by the second. Fuck! I was almost tempted to drag her to the Justice of Peace and put a ring on her finger right now to ensure she was mine and mine alone. Talk about obsession. Nothing had ever gotten to me like her. Ever since that kiss in The Orchid, the irrational craving had seared through my veins.

I had ignored it while she was in Italy, convincing myself she was nothing but a kid. Yet, I couldn’t forget her nor our kiss. But a woman came back, and nothing would stop me now that she was mine. I had to tread carefully though. Amore wasn’t the daughter that would do what her father or any don of the Cosa Nostra demanded.

She knew her worth; her grandmother had helped her in that department. She had been groomed to take over her empire, and from the sounds of it, her grandmother already thought her ready.

There was no doubt Amore had come into her own. Nobody would make her do what she didn’t want to. Including me. Though for some reason, I couldn’t handle the idea of Amore with anyone else. It was a fucking first for me.

I watched her shove another spoonful of tiramisù into her mouth with little moaning sounds that made my cock stir to life. I could fuck her all day and night and still need more. Those little noises she made would be the death of me.

Her taste, the trust in her desire hazed eyes as I wrapped my hand around her slim neck, her tight pussy. I had found heaven, and she was it. Nothing on this earth compared to Amore Bennetti.

Her eagerness surprised me, and the way she responded to my touch was fucking exhilarating. Though for my own sanity, I had to get some control when it came to her. I had never been eager to fuck a woman in a fucking field where we could be caught. Yet with her, all I could think about was burying myself in her.

I was hung up on Amore. Probably more than she had been crushing on me during her teenage years. She had outgrown those years, and let me tell you, payback was a bitch because I was lusting after her like a teenage boy.

“You sure you don’t want a bite?” Amore offered. “I share.” Then her brows pulled together. “Well, some things at least. Dessert is one of them.”

Amusement filled me. Was she laying claim? It didn’t bother me at all.

“I’ll have my dessert later,” I told her, smirking. She raised an eyebrow, then shrugged and continued with her next bite, making her littlemmmmnoises. I liked that she had a healthy appetite. She’d need it to survive me.

“I’m done,” she murmured softly. “I didn’t realize how hungry I was.”

“I wonder why.” Our eyes connected and I couldn’t help my smirk. She flushed crimson understanding the meaning and I chuckled. Shy, wanton, submissive… she was the perfect package.

I placed several bills on the table, took her hand in mine, and we walked out of the restaurant. Our fingers interlocked, and I fucking swore my chest glowed. She was bewitching me.

“Should I take you home, or do you want to get some fresh air?” Fuck, I didn’t want to take her back to her father’s. I wouldn’t see her till June. Too damn long.

She mulled over my suggestion, then eventually lifted her head and grinned.

“Or we could get frisky in the back seat of your car?” she suggested, her green eyes twinkling with mischief.

I let out a breath of amusement. Not that I would ever refuse her.

“You are insatiable, Amore.”

* * *

We got dressed in silence, but I couldn’t help but flick my gaze her way. I was used to women announcing their undying love, but there was none of it from Amore. She gave me her virginity so there was no doubt that she wasn’t one to sleep around but words of love, devotion, tenderness… none of it slipped through her lips. Yet, I found that I craved those words. Only from her.

Just the idea of Italian boys buzzing around her had me feeling something peculiarly close to jealousy. It had my blood burn hotter and the need to kill stronger. I’d have to check in with Lorenzo every day.

I knew there were plenty of men from all social circles running after Amore; her father grumbled about it plenty. She was the whole package - smart, beautiful, with a body that was every man's wet dream, and richer than most humans on this earth. Ever since she had gone to Italy to study, anywhere she went became a mecca for models, actors, and fancy parties.

But none of it mattered to me. It was her heart and soul that mattered to me. She mattered to me.

Everyone was intrigued by a woman with connections to the underworld and one of the largest fashion empires in the world. I was intrigued byher. Her sharp mind, her soft heart, her strong will. There wasn’t a man on this earth that would be so stupid to be blind to her inner and outer beauty.