He concentrated on rubbing her bottom. “I love your ass.” He did. He was an ass man; well, he was also a breast man. Right now, he could see that bitable, spankable bottom, so he was all about her ass, but if she rolled over, his fickle cock would be all about her breasts.
“Good, because I’m madly in love with your cock. I love how it feels right now, pressed against me. I’m thinking about going to sleep with it in my mouth. I used to suck my thumb when I was little. It drove my mother crazy. I might have to have a substitute to get to sleep.”
“You’re supposed to be so exhausted you can’t move.”
“Well, I can’t. I’m contemplating whether or not I have the energy to put my plan into action, or whether I’ll have to wait until tomorrow night.”
“While you’re contemplating, consider marrying me immediately. We’ll get a license and get Goodman to agree. He will. He wants a new wing and more equipment. He also wants a Ferraro on their board. It always helps with fund-raisers.”
“He’s gouging you for money because my brother’s there. That’s not right.”
“That’s the way the game is played. We could do some good though, baby. I’ve been thinking about it. I hate that you’ve had to work so much just so your brother could have decent care. There are so many families that can’t afford the Center, families with loved ones that really could benefit from the therapy. We could establish a scholarship in your brother’s name and pay for the care and therapy of recipients.”
He felt her swift intake of breath. Her eyes met his again. Liquid turned the sapphires to sparkling gems. “You would do that?”
“We would do that, Sasha. What’s mine is yours. Remember? There isn’t a divorce in the conventional sense of the word. If our shadows are pulled apart, you would never remember being married to me. All the pictures in the world won’t allow you to remember. The money belongs to my family. We might be wealthy and have the ability to use the money any way we want, but in a divorce, the family trust can’t be broken. What that means is, there isn’t a prenup. Once we’re married, all you have to do is say, I would like to build another wing onto the Center, and we get the people in place to make it happen.”
“I don’t know if I’m ready for that.” Reluctance was clear in her voice.
“Then put the money aside. Are you ready for being with me? Living here with me? Being part of my crazy family?”
“I want to be with you more than anything, Giovanni. Tonight really showed me that trying to stay away from you wasn’t going to work. And I hated that I put you and everyone else in danger because I was so confused.”
“You’re allowed. Marriage with someone like me is a big step. I know coming into my world can seem overwhelming, but I swear to you, baby, I’ll take care of you. I’ll be with you every step of the way.”
“I want to keep working.”
“In the club?”
“Maybe not there, but I like working.”
“Have you considered a stable of horses? We could put riding trails in the park and you could take kids out occasionally, kids with disabilities who might not be able to ride otherwise. The world is open to you, Sasha. Once we’re married, if you want to quit the club, whatever dream you have, you can do.”
“I never thought of something like that here in Chicago. You’re amazing. Horses actually are very good for therapy. I had been taking classes before my parents’ accident with the idea of using horses for therapy, but then I stopped just short of my degree when they were killed and Sandlin was injured. You must be psychic.”
He wasn’t about to tell her the investigators, both teams, had been digging up everything they could on her once he showed real interest. “Say you’ll marry me immediately, and then we have to get some sleep.” He was one to take advantage when he knew he had it.
She laughed softly. “You have a one-track mind.”
“Is there a reason you’re hesitating?”
“Everyone is going to think I’m pregnant.”
His cock jerked. She laughed. “Oh my God, you’re hoping I’m pregnant.”
“Then you’ll have to marry me.”
“No one has to marry in this day and age. Women can cope with having a child without marriage.”
He smacked her ass hard. “You are deliberately making me suffer. Admit it.”
She laughed again, her body squirming over his, rubbing deliciously over his growing cock. “Absolutely I am. Yes, I’ll marry you, because if I don’t say yes, we’ll never get any sleep.”
“We’ll get sleep,” he said and rolled her to her side. “Because I’m going to make sure your mouth is so stuffed full you can’t talk anymore now that I’ve got your promise.”
She laughed softly, and slid her body down just enough in the bed that when he turned on his side, she could slide his cock into the hot haven of her mouth.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
“The rifle was registered to Aaron,” Stefano said, reaching across the table to pull the bowl of pasta to him. “He was arrested and taken into custody this afternoon.”
Sasha gasped and looked up at Giovanni. His face was absolutely blank. He could have been carved from stone. She put her hand on his arm. It felt like a block of marble, not real flesh and blood. “I’m sorry, I know you didn’t want it to be him.”
“It isn’t him.” Giovanni’s voice held absolute conviction. “No way would he ever use that rifle and then drop it. It wasn’t his. His friend was a sharpshooter. They went through boot camp together and deployed together. His friend was killed in a shootout when they were on a routine patrol. Aaron hauled his body back and that rifle. The widow gave Aaron the rifle. She kept his tags and the flag. Aaron might have used a different rifle to try to kill me, but not that one. He showed it to me and told me it was the only rifle he kept in his house.”
There was silence while his brothers and sisters all let that sink in. Taviano handed Stefano the spaghetti sauce. It was Taviano’s recipe, and Sasha thought it could win awards.
“He has no alibi for any of the times something happened,” Stefano continued very calmly. “He claimed in each case, he’d either been alone asleep or he’d been alone in his home gym training.”
“It isn’t him,” Giovanni said stubbornly.
“If not Aaron,” Vittorio said, “then who?”
“And why?” Emmanuelle asked. “None of this makes sense, especially if it isn’t Aaron. Who is targeting Sasha and you? Even Sandlin?”
“Sasha, are you very certain you have no enemies? Sandlin? Could the driver of the other vehicle blame him and want the two of you dead?” Ricco asked.
She gave it some thought. She hadn’t lived a fast-lane lifestyle. “My life was easy and uncomplicated. I worked on the ranch, went to school and barrel raced. I didn’t leave a string of broken hearts behind me. I grew up with the boys there. We were more like brother and sister than sweethearts. I swear, there isn’t anything I did that could have prompted this kind of retaliation.”
“Sandlin?” Stefano prompted, heaping pasta and spaghetti sauce on Francesca’s plate.
“Stop.” Francesca caught his arm. “That’s too much.”
“No, it isn’t.” His voice brooked no argument.
Instantly, all eyes were on Francesca. She moved closer to her husband. “I can’t possibly eat that much, and all of you stop staring at me.”
“You’re so pregnant,” Emmanuelle said. “Aren’t you?”
“It’s too early to get excited,” Francesca protested. “I’ve lost two already. The doctor says there’s no reason, but I didn’t want anyone to know because it’s so horrible when I don’t carry …” Her eyes filled with tears.
“That’s why it was so much easier to say she hadn’t gotten pregnant,” Stefano said. “Or,” he corrected, “to imply it. She’s edging toward the three-month mark. She lost the others at six weeks so I think we’re past the crisis point.”
“Maybe she should be lying down,” Vittorio said.
Francesca groaned. “None of you start. You know Stefano’s bad enough. I’m not going on bed rest unless the doctor says it’s necessary. Which he hasn’t.”
“Yeah, well, not all doctors are bright,” Taviano said. “Some of them pay no real attention to their patients. We should make this decision, not the doctor who probably can’t remember her name.”
Sasha nearly stuffed her napkin in her mouth to keep from laughing. They were all insane. She was very glad she wasn’t Francesca. Stefano was bad enough, but if all the brothers were going to have an opinion on the pregnancy, it was going to be a very long nine months.
“The doctor knows her name,” Stefano assured. “He’s being paid to care for Francesca, day or night, at home. He’s one of the best in his field.”
Sasha was fairly certain that translated into being the very best. Her eyes met Francesca’s, and the two women smiled and shook their heads at the same time.
“What do you think about bed rest?” Vittorio asked Stefano. His tone implied all kinds of things—the doctor was crazy and Vittorio’s woman would already be lounging in a bed.
Sasha raised her eyebrow at Giovanni. He had to see Vittorio wasn’t as laid-back as they all thought him to be. He might be their diplomat, but she suspected he could be the diplomat because he was in control at all times. He was that disciplined.
“I believed bed rest was needed,” Stefano conceded, “but Dr. Hanson convinced me that there was an entire set of new problems with bed rest. So far, she’s had a little spotting, but that’s cleared up and the baby is growing at the correct pace. He doesn’t see any complications so far.”
“What about with Francesca? Does he say she can carry without risk to her?” Vittorio asked. Again, his tone implied that would have been his first question to the doctor, and if there was a risk, his woman wouldn’t be pregnant.
Sasha rolled her eyes, and Mariko hid a smile. Francesca hissed out a breath of exasperation. “Francesca is right here, Vittorio. You could ask me.”
“You wouldn’t tell me the truth, or at least you’d soft-soap it. What did the doctor say, Stefano?”
Francesca half-heartedly threw a piece of sourdough bread at Vittorio. He picked it out of the air without even looking her way.
“He said we would evaluate more as she gets further along. So far, there are no complications or dangers to her.”
“I’m very sorry about the two losses,” Sasha said to both parents. “That must have been so difficult on both of you, especially since you didn’t tell anyone.” She couldn’t help remembering that Giovanni had told her how cruel Eloisa had been to Francesca. Of course, she had no way of knowing Francesca had suffered two miscarriages. It was no wonder Stefano wanted to protect his wife from his mother. She couldn’t imagine how painful that must have been for both when they wanted children so badly.
“Thank you,” Stefano said, reaching out to take Francesca’s hand. “Getting back to the subject at hand, we were talking about this thing with Aaron and whether or not the attacks could be coming from something in your past.”
Sasha shook her head as she finished chewing another bite of spaghetti. She really had to watch her weight if she was going to eat Taviano’s cooking. It was that good. “Definitely not me. My life has been pretty unremarkable. Well …” she hedged. “Until I met Giovanni.”
She couldn’t help looking at him. They’d spent two days in his house, worshiping each other’s body, sleeping and eating and starting the cycle all over again. Sometimes they skipped eating and sometimes they skipped sleeping. She hadn’t tired of him. Or them. Not for a moment. Just looking at him brought those memories into her mind. All the images. The ways he’d taken her. The things he’d introduced her to, all of which she’d loved, even those she’d been a little intimidated by.
This morning, she’d surprised him by insisting he lie still while she had her wicked way with him, and she’d even used rope to tie his hands so he couldn’t move. He moved. He wasn’t a man easily kept down, especially when his body was hard and hot and very ready. Sasha blushed when their eyes met. He knew what she was thinking. That moment he’d flipped her over. The way he’d taken charge. Of course, she’d primed him. She knew at some point, if she kept teasing him, it was going to happen. The blush became a full body blush.
“What about Sandlin?” Stefano prompted.
Everyone was looking at her. Grinning. Her color deepened. “Well, he was very popular with the ladies, and he dated a lot. He was never engaged or even with one girl exclusively, at least not since high school. I don’t think it could be that. He had friends and very rarely got into arguments. Sandlin wasn’t like that.”
“The accident?” Ricco prompted. “Could someone blame him? You said he was driving.”
She took a deep breath, hating to think about that night. The call. The hospital. The sheriff trying to talk to her, to keep her calm when she wanted to go to her parents. Her brother. It had been a terrible nightmare. She pushed that aside and tried to remember the other family.
“The woman was drunk. Horribly drunk. She had children. I remember them being there. They weren’t crying. I was. I was sobbing so loud and I couldn’t stop. I’m pretty certain I was so loud no one in the hospital could possibly have been sleeping that night. The two of them, both boys, teens, I think, just stood there against the wall, their father telling me over and over how sorry he was. His wife walked away without so much as a broken bone.”
“We’ve already checked into the family,” Taviano said. “The report is, the woman is still a drunk, so much so that I doubt she could orchestrate any of this. The man moved away with his two sons and they live in Oregon now. They seem happy. We’re still keeping a close eye, but again, nothing adds up there.”
“That leads us back to Aaron,” Emmanuelle said. “I’m with Giovanni. I don’t think it’s him. I think it’s too much, all that evidence piling up against him.”
“Let’s look at this another way,” Mariko said suddenly. “If all this evidence against Aaron was manufactured, his credit card actually stolen to purchase bomb materials, the picture of Sasha stolen from his phone, the rifle that he had to have kept safe in his home, all of that kind of adds up to the fact that whoever is doing this is very close to him.”
Giovanni’s head jerked up. “Mariko, I want to kiss you right now.”
“Well don’t,” Ricco all but growled.
Laughter spilled around the table. Giovanni nearly crushed Sasha to him. He set her back in her chair and blew a kiss across the table at Mariko in defiance of his brother.
“It’s so fucking obvious now that you point it out. I wasn’t looking at that. To beat the shit out of Raimondo, he has to be a pro. What the hell was wrong with me? Aaron’s friends are all in the same profession. What if this isn’t about Sasha, Sandlin or me? What if this is about Aaron?”
There was a stunned silence. They had been so focused on Giovanni and Sasha that they hadn’t considered that at all.
“Aaron lived on the streets for years. He fought his way to the top. He’s disciplined and goal oriented. He would mow down anyone in his path trying to stop him. He had to have stepped on other mixed martial arts fighters’ careers. He defeated a number of really good fighters to get where he is. Any one of them could be an enemy.”
Giovanni sounded almost relieved, and Sasha put one hand on his thigh under the table in order to comfort him. She knew how he felt about Aaron. She knew he’d been hurt. He really didn’t want to think that his friend would orchestrate everything that had happened, including the fire that could have swept through multiple buildings, destroying livelihoods.
Giovanni smiled at her and put his hand over hers, pressing her palm deeper into the heated muscle of his thigh. “We’ve got to find this bastard and stop him.”
“Should we call Vinci and ask him to represent Aaron?” Taviano asked.
“Who would have motivation?” Sasha asked. The heat from Giovanni’s thigh nearly scorched her palm right through the material of his slacks. She began to rub her hand up and down his thigh.
“Any of the fighters he defeated on his way to the title,” Emmanuelle said.
“Aaron told Sasha I competed with him for women.”
“What the fuck?” Stefano snapped. “I should go pay that little asshole a visit. Teach him a lesson about lying to one of our women. We fuck up enough on our own without having that kind of shit spread around.”
The fact that Stefano was so outraged made Sasha realize that none of Giovanni’s brothers would compete for women and then drop them. It wouldn’t happen. She had believed Giovanni, but it was nice to know none of the others would, either.
“The point is, if he said that, did he do it? If he did and won, would the woman be angry with him? Would the loser? What if the woman was someone the loser really wanted?” Emmanuelle asked.
“If the loser really wanted a woman, would he risk her on a bet?” Vittorio asked. “He didn’t want her that bad if it happened and he deserved to lose her.”
“What about Meredith Benson?”
Everyone at the table turned to look at Sasha. She’d expected it, but she still blushed. “I’m not jealous just because Giovanni kissed her …”
“I didn’t kiss her,” he denied, just like she knew he would. “She kissed me.”
“Is there a difference?” She widened her eyes at him.
“There will be a discussion at home about this.”
A frisson of excitement crept down her spine and her sex clenched. Her fingers bit into his thigh and crept closer to his cock. She was very happy to think about what kind of discussion they’d be having once they got home.
Shadow Keeper Page 35
