Total pages in book: 76
Estimated words: 74765 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 374(@200wpm)___ 299(@250wpm)___ 249(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 74765 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 374(@200wpm)___ 299(@250wpm)___ 249(@300wpm)
I gasp, smile. “Where is he?” But then my mood darkens. “Is he okay?”
“He’s fine. He recognized one of my men at the square in Naples.”
“So, he found you?” my eyebrows rise up on my forehead. So much for my brother disappearing like he promised. For the first time, I’m glad he didn’t listen to me.
“I guess so. He’s on the island now. You can call him when I’m done.” He excuses himself so it’s just Dante and me in the room.
There’s an awkward moment of silence before Dante speaks. “I’m sorry I let David take you. I’m sorry for the way I’ve been to you.”
“You were protecting your brother. I know that.”
“Still. I’m sorry, Scarlett. You didn’t deserve anything you’ve had to deal with. I know that. I knew it all along.”
Warm tears fill my eyes. “It’s forgotten. Just get better so we can go home.”
Home.
We both smile.
Epilogue 1
Cristiano
Eight weeks later and Scarlett and I are back home. I moved Dante into a private facility where they can deal with the burns. Cerberus won’t leave Scarlett’s side.
When we told Lenore about Mara, she was momentarily beside herself happy. But only momentarily. Because she understands the kind of life Mara could be living. The life she’d have been made to endure to survive as long as she has.
I visit Dante daily. I think his singular task—no, his obsession—is keeping him from depression. Maybe keeping him alive.
Find Mara. Bring her home.
He was her protector when she was little and I’m worried about him. Maybe because he’s like I was about Marcus Rinaldi. Like I was before Scarlett.
“He’s just a big softie,” Scarlett says as I shove Cerberus out of our bedroom.
The dog is reluctant to leave and I hear him settle down directly outside the door.
“That’s exactly the opposite of his training,” I say, turning back to my wife. I look her over. She looks good. She looks happy, brushing out her long, dark hair. She’s wearing a soft lilac tank top and matching sleep shorts. She’s put on a couple of pounds finally so she’s not all skin and bones.
I walk toward her, pulling my shirt off over my head.
Her smile fades and she puts the brush down.
“I need to talk to you,” she says, her tone more serious than I expect.
“After.”
She licks her lips when I wrap my arms around her waist. I didn’t tell her I know what her uncle did to her. It serves no purpose. I have a feeling she left out some things about Mara, but she probably did it for the same reason.
I look down at her, into her soft caramel eyes. She is so beautiful, my wife.
Walking her backward to the wall, I kiss her, taking her wrists from around my neck and dragging her arms up over her head.
“I don’t like these,” I say against her mouth, pushing the silk shorts down with one hand. “Skirts and dresses only.”
She kisses me back. “I’m not wearing underwear. You like that, don’t you?”
I cup her sex, feel the soft hairs that have grown back in since the terrible night of the auction.
“I do. Very much. But I’m still burning any jeans or pants you own.”
Her lips stretch into a smile as I kiss her. When I flick a finger over her clit, she gasps into my mouth.
I take her mouth in a deep kiss. Then dip my head to kiss her neck, releasing her arms only to pull the tank top off so she’s fully naked. I stand back to look at her, take in her fuller breasts with their darkened, hard nipples.
“Fuck,” I say, shaking my head, dropping to my knees before her. This woman, my goddess, my Fury, she deserves to be worshipped. “Spread yourself open for me.”
She puts her hands on either side of her lower lips and spreads herself open.
I look at her, at her swollen nub, her glistening pink pussy. I dip my head down and flick my tongue over her hard clit before taking it in my mouth. I need to catch her when her knees buckle as she wraps her hands around my head.
I stand, lift her with me and carry her to the bed. Drawing the blankets down, I lay her back on the pillows and spread her legs open. Feasting first with my eyes, then with my tongue and mouth, I taste every inch of her. Hearing her gasps, her cries, feeling her fingers in my hair, twisting it, curling into it, drawing me to her as she pulls her knees back offering me all of her. She’s mine. All mine. And I’ll never let her go again.
I dip my head down to taste her again and listen to the sound of my name on her lips as her body jerks, as she fists handfuls of the bedsheets, arching her back, giving me everything.