by Laura Sutton
“I guess ‘pretty’ will work, but I personally think ‘short and sexy’ would work better,” Roxy teased and Sam laughed.
“What do you know? You’re an old married lady now.” Roxy’s wedding had been a few months earlier, and Sam had been her maid of honor.
“I may be married, but I’m not dead. Just ask Carlos what I wore for him the other night,”
“I’d rather not, Roxanne.”
“Oh, you’re no fun,” Roxy chided just as Sam’s doorbell rang. “Is that him?” She sounded almost as excited as Sam felt.
“I think so. Gotta go,” Sam said and after a quick goodbye from Roxy, she hung up the phone, took a deep breath, and opened the door.
Eli looked breathtakingly handsome, as always. Dark jeans lovingly caressed his thighs, and a white button-down shirt with the sleeves rolled up showed off sinewy, caramel-toned forearms. Her mouth went dry at the sight. Was that normal, Sam wondered? To be turned on by the sight of a man’s forearms? Because she definitely was.
“Hi,” he said, and she finally dragged her eyes up his body to his devastatingly attractive face. She wondered if she would ever become immune from the cut of his jaw, or his lips, or his smoldering brown eyes. It didn’t seem possible.
“Hi, come in. I just gotta grab my purse,” she said with a smile and he followed her into the apartment. When she returned from the kitchen with her purse, Eli was holding a small square box in his hand.
“Here, I got you something,” he said, sounding self-conscious. She smiled and took the box from him, pulling on the small white bow.
“I thought about getting you flowers because that’s the quintessential first-date gift and then I thought, ‘no, this isn’t a first date’, and so I stopped at the little jewelry store close to my place and I was walking around and thought, ‘oh, I’ll get her a nice pen’, but that felt too impersonal and then I saw this,” he rambled.
Sam opened the box to find a beautiful gold necklace with a single diamond solitaire. She pulled the necklace free of the box and held the delicate jewelry in her hands, blinking in shock. In all their years together, Rick hadn’t gotten her anything nicer than a coffee mug for Christmas. And this was way nicer than any coffee mug.
She apparently took too long staring at the necklace in shock, because Eli’s hand entered her line of vision, reaching for the necklace and the box.
“It’s okay if you don’t like it, we can stop at the jeweler and pick something you do like,” he told her in a rush, and she had to yank her hands away to keep Eli from snatching it from her.
“No! I love it!” she said quickly and smiled up at him and his shoulders sagged in what looked like relief. “It’s beautiful, Eli, thank you.” She leaned up and kissed his cheek. “Will you help me with it?”
She handed him the necklace and turned her back to him. He lifted the necklace over her head and then did up the clasp, then kissed the back of her neck, making her shiver. The single diamond fell right below her throat, sparkling and throwing rainbows.
“How does it look?” she asked turning to face him, and instead of answering he kissed her lips.
“Not nearly as beautiful as you, bimba, but it will do,” he said, grinning. “You ready? Let’s go.”
The rest of the afternoon was like something out of a movie for Sam. First, Eli took her to a special Edgar Degas exhibit that the National Gallery of Art that was hosting.
“Did you really want to come to this, or was it just something you thought I might like?” she asked as they perused the paintings of ballet dancers that Degas was so famous for, her hand in Eli’s.
“No, I wanted to see it. Art was something my mother enjoyed a lot. She went to boarding school in France, so she would drag all her sons to almost every show in Dallas. I enjoyed it long after my brothers stopped,” he answered softly as they examined a painting featuring a dancer with a bright blue bow around her tiny waist.
“Your mother sounds like a fascinating woman,” she said and burrowed closer to his side, laying her head on his shoulder.
“She was, but don’t get me wrong, she was a ruthless businesswoman. She didn’t shy away from the dark parts of our family; in fact she flourished in it. She ran the businesses that laundered the money, and she had no qualms about hurting anyone who was a threat to our family. That wasn’t the woman who raised me, though. The woman who raised me loved art and read poetry and danced to 80s pop music,” he finished with a smile and Sam shivered a bit. She had never met anyone like the woman he was describing, simultaneously merciless and cultured.
“Do you think you take after her or your father?” she asked as they wandered the gallery.
“I don’t know. I can be just as ruthless and cold-hearted as both my parents were, given the right motivation, or even just in the courtroom, but I don’t have the lust for power and wealth and domination they shared. Part of what made their marriage so strong was that they both wanted to rule. If we had lived in a different century, they would’ve been a king and queen somewhere, but instead they worked to amass power in a criminal organization. I’m not that way. I want a simpler life, safety and warmth and honesty– something that was never a part of their lives or, by extension, mine.”
“Well, maybe you could have that now,” she whispered, and he smiled down at her and brought her hand up to his lips and kissed her fingers.
“That’s what I’m planning for, bimba,” he answered and the look on his face made Sam’s breath catch.
“Come on, let’s walk around the gardens for a bit and then head to dinner,” he said, tugging on their joined hands.
“Where are you taking me for dinner? You never said,” she said with a laugh as they made their way out the museum’s garden.
“It’s a surprise,” he told her, and she rolled her eyes.
“Well, I hope the food is good, at least.”
“Oh. I don’t think you’ll be disappointed. It’s my favorite place.”
They spent all afternoon enjoying the beauty that the art gallery and DC had to offer, and they had talked. She told Eli about Roxy getting married.
“I’m sorry I missed it,” he said, peering at a few of the photos from the reception on her phone.
“It was a good party, but it’s okay. You’ll be at the next wedding I’m invited to.” She looked up at him, a question in her glance, and he smiled.
“Yes, I will,” he replied, and her heart filled at those words.
When afternoon faded into evening, and DC was just beginning to light up, they got into the car to go to dinner. The weather was beautiful and Eli was holding her hand as he drove. Sam basked in the happiness that had suffused the entire day thus far; she had never felt so loved in all her life. Even though he had yet to say the words, she felt his love radiating off of him. He could take his time telling her; she was patient, and he was worth the wait.
Eli pulled up to a building in downtown DC, and a valet opened her door.
“Welcome to di Ruggiero’s,” the young man said, offering his hand to help her out of the car.
“Thank you,” she said, sending Eli a dumbfounded glance, but he just grinned.
“Are you related to the owner?” she whispered as they walked into the restaurant and the aroma of garlic, oil, spices, and herbs hit her senses.
“Elias!” she heard someone call and Eli turned towards the voice with a wide smile.
“Uncle Nico!” Eli let go of her hand to hug an older, shorter version of himself. They shared the same build and same shape of the face, even if there were a few more lines around Nico's face and a little more weight around his middle. He was still a very handsome man.
“Elias, it’s good to see you, kid! It’s been too long,” the man said, pulling out of Eli’s hug. “And who is this lovely lady?”
“Uncle Nico, this is my girlfriend, Samantha. Sam, my Uncle Nico,”
“It’s wonderful to meet you.” Sam put out her hand for Nico to shake and he took it in both of his with a
warm, genuine smile.
“I am so happy to finally meet you. Eli has spoken about you in the past, and I’m so happy he removed his head from his ass and brought you to meet me.”
Sam couldn’t help but laugh at his antics, and Eli rolled his eyes dramatically.
“Get your grubby hands off my girl, don’t you have a new wife? What is this, wife number four?” Eli asked with a grin. Nico tucked Sam’s arm in the crook of his and started walking towards a table in the far corner of the restaurant, Eli left to trail behind.
“Tiffany is wife number three and I think I got it right this time, but rest assured, if I didn’t and if this meat-head lawyer isn’t what you want, come see me, dear Samantha.”
Sam laughed again at the banter and Nico’s outrageous flirting. “I’ll keep that in mind.”
“Sit, and I’ll be right back with my best wine and some meatballs for an appetizer.” Nico pulled out a chair for her. “I hope you brought your appetite, bellissima.”
Eli groaned as he took a seat across from Sam, shooing his uncle away with a wave of the hand. “Stop flirting with my girlfriend, old man!”
“So this is your surprise? Your uncle’s restaurant?” Sam asked once Nico had left them. “Why didn’t you tell me I would be meeting your family?” She reached for a piece of bread on the table and dipped it in the dish of olive oil and spices.
“I didn’t want you to be nervous. Besides, Uncle Nico would love you if you had three eyes and an extra arm, because he knows how much you mean to me.”
Sam leaned across the table to kiss him. “Thank you,” she whispered against his cheek.
“For what?” he asked as she sat back down in her seat, and she shrugged.
“For being you, that’s all.”
He bowed his head at her words and Sam was sure that if he had her pale skin tone, he would have blushed.
The evening was spent with Nico regaling her with stories of Eli as a little boy: his first hunting trip, breaking his arm, playing peewee football, all the while plying her with copious amounts of fine wine and the most delicious Italian food she had ever enjoyed. By the time Nico brought out the espresso and tiramisu, she was sure they would have to roll her out of the restaurant, and said as much.
“Nonsense, you barely ate a thing. In fact, let me pack you up some goodies to take home.” Nico made for the kitchen before she could speak a word of protest.
Eli reached for her hand and threaded their fingers together. “Did you have a good time?” he asked.
“I did, thank you, and thank you for bringing me here and introducing me to Nico.”
“I’m happy you had a good time.”
“Tomorrow, I have to go through that box of discovery. I didn’t get to it last night,” she said, sighing. She loved her job, but that was a big box sitting on her coffee table at home.
“Well, what if I come over tomorrow and help you?” he asked.
She paused, considering, and then shot him a flirty look. “Orrrrr…” she drew out the word and rubbed her foot up and down his calf. “You could come over and stay the night, and then help me in the morning.” Her smile widened when his eyes darkened at her words.
“I like the sound of that,” Eli said, his voice deep and rough, and as soon as Nico brought out two bags full of to-go containers, Eli tugged her out of her chair.
“In such a rush to go already?” Nico teased as he kissed both her cheeks.
“Yes, I need to get home. I have a lot of work to get through for a case before Monday,” Sam said while Eli took the bags of food.
“I know you aren’t going to let her work the whole weekend, Elias. I will be disappointed if such a beautiful woman is left to just toil away,” Nico teased his nephew, who responded by rolling his eyes. The interactions between uncle and nephew made Sam laugh.
“I promise, she won’t be only toiling away,” he answered and pulled her gently to the door. With a wave, they were out into the crisp autumn air.
Between the food and the wine, Sam promptly fell asleep in the car, and by the time they got into her apartment, all thoughts of anything sexy were replaced with thoughts of her pillow and bed.
“I’m so sorry,” she mumbled into Eli’s shoulder as they laid in bed after stripping down, her in a loose T-shirt and him in his boxers.
“It’s okay bimba, sleep,” he answered, and his kiss on her forehead was the last thing she felt before she fell fast asleep.
Chapter Twenty
Samantha
Sam woke to the smell of coffee and an empty bed. She threw back the covers and padded barefoot into her kitchen, where she found Eli in his boxers at the stove making pancakes.
“Are you making me breakfast?” she asked, leaning her hip against the counter.
“I am,” he answered with a grin and a smacking kiss on her lips. “Make the coffee, and I’ll bring the pancakes and sausage.”
She yelped when he smacked her on the butt as she turned away from him. “Hey!” she cried.
He merely shrugged and grinned. “So how do you wanna go through the discovery?” he asked, placing a plate of pancakes topped with strawberries and cream and a side of sausage in front of her.
“Remind me to send your uncle a thank-you card,” she said, taking a bite of the decadent food. “I know I didn’t have strawberries or fresh cream in my fridge.” She scanned the inventory sheet from the discovery box, eyeing the considerable list of its contents. “I’ll take the warrants and interviews of the neighbor, and you take Debra’s interviews?”
He nodded, sipping his orange juice. Breakfast was a relatively quiet affair, mainly because the pancakes tasted so heavenly that their mouths were constantly full.
“Ugh, I’m going to have to go to spin class five days instead of just three, next week,” Sam groaned and leaned back in her chair. She was stuffed.
“Bullshit, you’re beautiful no matter what. Besides…” He pulled on her hand, tugging her into his lap. “...I like that you’re soft here.” He slid his hand under the shirt to touch her stomach. “And I love your ass, I’m a big man and I love the fact I can fuck you hard and you won’t break and I won’t hurt you. And I like the way your ass moves when I’m fucking you from behind.” He grinned wickedly and Sam flushed at his dirty words.
“Go to spin class because you like it and it’s good for you, not because you think you need to look a certain way,” he told her seriously.
She couldn’t help but kiss him. “Thank you,” she whispered against his mouth and caressed his cheek, enjoying the rough texture of his stubble. He hadn’t shaved. He looked tousled and appealing, and he was hers. Sam’s attention was drawn to the intricate tattoo of the eagle on his chest.
“I never asked, but I noticed that Dante had this same tattoo on his neck,” Her finger was now tracing the crossed spears behind the eagle. “Does it have a special meaning?”
“It does,” He took her fingers off his chest and kissed them. “It’s been my family’s crest for centuries. ‘Ruggiero’ means ‘spear’, and these words,” his finger traced the writing in the ribbon under the eagle, “’In tenebris hasta’ translates to ‘I am a spear in the dark’. I guess… we were always dangerous,” he shrugged.
“I think it’s kinda hot,” she teased, and he grinned.
“Yeah? Well, I think you’re hot,” he shot back, and his hands started to move under her sleep shirt. She stood, and his hands clasped her hips to stop her from moving.
“Oh, no, we gotta get through this box. Sexy time later.” She danced out of his loose grasp, snatching up the inventory list and moving to her couch. Eli cleared the table, refreshed their coffee, and settled in next to her.
“Debra’s interviews for you,” she said, handing him two large file folders, “and I will start with the search warrants.”
The police had searched the Cork house five separate times, their church offices twice, and each of their vehicles once. It was a lot to go through, and she needed to be thorough as
she did it.
They settled in, and for the next few hours very few words were spoken as they combed through the evidence. Sam logged that they found nothing of use in the church offices or in their vehicles, but it was the search of the house that had her interest piqued. The computer and hard drives were on the warrant for the office, but it wasn’t mentioned on the warrant for their home. Sam searched, she looked to make sure another hadn’t been issued, but no, they used the same warrant to search multiple times and the family computer was not listed in the warrant, only the office computers.
“Eli, had Debra obtained counsel by the time the police executed the search warrants?” Sam asked.
“Yes, and she wasn’t present at any of the searches. She was staying with her sister with the kids,” he answered absently, still reading through the interviews.
She poked his shoulder, wanting his attention. “Eli, they didn’t have the family computer on the search warrant. That was where they found the internet search history about oleander, correct?” she asked, and he stared at her, eyes wide.
“Yes. Let me see the warrants.”
She handed over the papers for him to peruse and as she watched, as a smile broke out across his face.
“You’re fucking brilliant,” he said when he finally looked up from the documents.
“Not really, anyone would’ve found this,” she answered with a shrug, and he shook his head.
“I don’t know, it’s a lot of discovery. I’ve seen better lawyers miss bigger. I’ve missed bigger,” he told her. “I’ve got to call Richard. He needs to put in a motion to suppress the evidence based on the scope of the warrant,” he said, standing, but he stopped.
“What?” she asked, and he grabbed her phone and handed it to her.
“No, I’m not calling Richard. You do it. This is your find, bimba. I’m not stealing your glory.”
She dialed their boss’s phone number, and twenty minutes later, it was done. Richard would put in the motion with the clerk at the stroke of eight o’clock Monday morning, and they would be on the docket within the week.
