Love in Purgatory (De La Fuente #2)

by Lexi Buchanan

  “Fuck, Emelia.”

  Minutes passed while he held her and eventually her sobs turned to hiccups, and Diego laughed.

  “I’m sorry.” She wiped at her tears, blew her nose and laughed when Diego winced.

  “I needed that.”

  “Dammit, Sis, you’re like a faucet recently. I know I promised you not to keep asking what’s wrong,” he stood, and moved her back to her bed before he ran his fingers through his hair, “but I need to know. I’ll keep it to myself, but I want to know.”

  When Diego got in one of his moods, she knew that he really wouldn’t let it go. She certainly couldn’t tell him everything, but she could give him a bit to keep him happy, at least for now.

  “Does this have anything to do with Dante?” he asked, but she sensed anger behind his question.

  “Kind of.”

  “Shit. What is it with you two? You both have an argument and then sulk like teenagers until one of you makes the first move to make up.” He moved and stood directly in front of her, his hand reached out and tipped her face up to meet his gaze. “This has to stop because it makes you so damn sad.” He frowned. “You don’t get like this when we fall out. You get pissed. What’s different?”

  “I don’t want to cry again. Let’s leave it for now, I’m going to follow Dante to Denver and get our differences sorted out.”

  “About time,” Diego grumbled, and as he looked out of her window, started to grin. “Come and look.” He reached his hand out to her, his gaze stayed focused outside the window.

  She jumped from the bed, grabbed her robe and let him drag her in front of him. “What are we looking at?”

  “Aiden.” He smirked.

  Aiden leaned against the vet’s SUV and talked to her as she loaded her gear into the back. A foal had been born earlier and their father had called Sarah, the vet, to assist. But why would Diego be interested in watching Aiden with her?

  Emelia turned to look at Diego. “I don’t get what I’m looking at.”

  “Emelia, you frighten me sometimes with how naive you are. Look!”

  She watched and realized their older brother was interested in the vet. “She’s married.”

  “I know, and so does he. I’ve seen him watching her a few times, and she blushes whenever he’s close. She hasn’t once mentioned her husband so I’m not sure what’s going on.”

  Emelia lightly punched her brother in his stomach. “Behave.”

  “What me?” He grinned. “I’m always on my best behavior.”

  “Yeah, right.” She was about to add more when there was a knock at her bedroom door. “Come in.”

  Mateo walked in and said, “I knew you’d be in here,” to Diego. “You’re both nearly thirty and still invade each other’s personal space.” He shook his head, but she didn’t miss the smile that hovered on his lips as he moved toward them.

  “Hey, Mateo.” She wrapped her arms around his waist and held him to her as his arms went around her shoulders.

  He kissed the top of her head and, keeping an arm around her, dragged her with him as he joined Diego at the window. He peered out and smirked. “Only heartbreak in that direction.”

  “She wears a wedding band, but is she actually married?” Diego wondered out loud.

  “She’s married. I bumped into them at one of the glittery events I had to attend a few weeks ago, and her husband is an arrogant asshole. But Aiden needs to stay away from her and to stop thinking with his dick,” Mateo added.

  “Hey,” Emelia elbowed Mateo in the stomach.

  He let go of her and rubbed where she nailed him. “What’s wrong with you?”

  “He’s thinking with more than his dick,” Emelia answered.

  “Can we change the subject?” Diego moaned, “I don’t want to think about Emelia and dicks. In fact, I think I’m going to puke.”

  She rolled her eyes. “Grow up.”

  Diego laughed until Mateo interrupted, “We’re wanted downstairs in Dad’s office. He has something to tell us.”

  Diego frowned and turned to her. “You better get dressed.”

  She shook her head. “It’s not me that’s needed.”

  “What do you mean?” Diego frowned.

  “I know what they have to say, and I don’t want to be there...but I’ll be waiting.” She reached up and kissed Diego on the cheek. “I love you.” She turned to Mateo, “I love you as well.”

  After she’d planted a kiss to Mateo’s cheek, she shoved them out of her room with puzzled expressions on their faces.

  They’d know what was wrong with her soon enough.

  Emelia forced herself to walk inside her bathroom and closed the door.

  She hoped the conversation would be easier this time around for her parents, but she had her doubts. They were up against four of them, and they all had a right to be pissed with their confession. It was Diego who worried her the most. He was about to find out that Emiliano wasn’t their biological father, and she wasn’t sure how well he’d take that bit of information.

  As she stepped into the shower, she let the hot water pound into her skin while she emptied her mind of everything for a brief period of time.

  It had been an hour since Diego and Mateo had gone downstairs, and Emelia hadn’t heard any raised voices or doors being slammed. So that was good, at least, she hoped it was. Part of her wished that she’d insisted on being there, but the other part was relieved.

  She didn’t want to see Diego look at her accusingly because she’d known and hadn’t told him. But she knew that he’d root her out once their parents had answered his questions. She and Diego would always look for the other when upset.

  It was so much bigger than anything they’d dealt with before, so she hoped that Diego handled it well. She wasn’t sure how she’d be able to help him otherwise.

  But she knew what she had to do with Dante, and once she knew her twin was okay, she’d be with the man she loved. It wouldn’t be easy because Dante was stubborn as hell, but she was optimistic for a future with him. She honestly didn’t want to think about a future without him because that wouldn’t be something that she could accept.

  Sudden shuffling outside her bedroom door drew her attention so, without waiting, she moved and yanked the door open and found Diego. She pulled him into her room and led him over to the chair, pushing him into it, as she perched on the edge of her bed.

  He looked shell-shocked and she didn’t know what to do to snap him out of it, but then he met her worried gaze.

  “You knew,” he accused, quietly.

  She nodded, and felt that all fight had left him.

  “Aiden’s known since he was a kid...how long have you known?”

  “What? What do you mean that Aiden’s known? I don’t understand.” Her mind was spinning. How could he have known? He was only a child when it all happened.

  “Aiden was hiding in the closet when his mom begged Dad and Mom to marry. He heard everything but didn’t really understand. He admitted to forgetting about it after his mother’s death, and that it had been a long time until he thought about it. When he did, he wasn’t sure whether or not he’d dreamed it up so he left it.”

  “Poor Aiden...how are you? You’re too quiet and that’s frightening.”

  He sat back and looked relaxed, but she didn’t let that fool her. Diego was the brother to act first, instead of thinking.

  “I’m numb...I’m also old enough to know that Emiliano is still our father. He put his name on our birth certificates; he’s never treated us differently than the others. There’s a small piece of my heart that hurts because he didn’t father us, but I know he loves us and always has. It’s weird but it isn’t, if that makes any sense?”

  “It does,” Emelia whispered.

  “How long have you known?” Diego raised a brow and waited.

  She might as well go for broke. “I overheard them talking when I was eighteen,” she admitted. “I wanted to tell you so badly, but I wasn’t one hundred percent
sure that what I heard was fact so I kept quiet. Then it just went on and it became harder to talk to anyone, so I didn’t bother and tried to ignore it. I couldn’t anymore, which is why I asked them about it two days ago.”

  “So that’s why we got the call and they told us now.”

  Emelia nodded and braced herself for her brother’s anger, which never came. It still could, but he really was quiet.

  Her anger and upset had happened so long ago, and the other day, it was Dante’s rejection that had broken her heart more than anything their parents had to say.

  Unable to keep her distance from Diego, Emelia stood and climbed onto his lap. He hesitated and then wrapped his arms around her.

  “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you. I was upset at the time and didn’t want you to suffer as well, especially as you were going through an ‘I hate everything’ time. I didn’t want to risk you rejecting Father, and then, like I said, it had been left so long that I didn’t want to bring it up...do you forgive me?”

  “God, Emelia.” He kissed her forehead. “I don’t even have to think about that because, of course, I forgive you. You’re my sister, my twin. That means more to me than anything.”

  She still felt uncertain by Diego’s lack of response to what he heard because she expected his volatile self to appear. But no, he was subdued.

  All she could hope for was that she was around when it really sank in with him.

  Chapter Twenty

  Dante had avoided the Bishop’s calls since he’d been back in Frederick and he knew that it wouldn’t be long before he received an unexpected visit from him. He didn’t know what to say or admit. He certainly couldn’t talk about Emelia to anyone, which drove him crazy, and he didn’t want to bring up with the bishop his thoughts on leaving the church. He’d never been so confused.

  But for the past three nights since he’d left his family’s home, he’d woken in the night sweating and tangled in his sheets with dreams of Emelia.

  He’d been a cold bastard to her when he found out the truth, but once he’d got himself under control, he’d talk to her. He had to. His conscience wouldn’t allow anything else. What he’d say, he had no clue, and he hoped the words would come when she stood in front of him.

  They didn’t…

  He came out of his office and was about to walk toward the kitchen when someone banged on the front door. With his foul mood, he was tempted to let Barbara get the door, but sighed and opened it wide...and there she stood. He closed his eyes and opened them again to make sure she wasn’t a figment of his imagination.

  “Let her in.” Barbara shuffled at the side of him, nudging him out of the way.

  Emelia blinked back tears as she turned to hang her coat on one of the pegs beside the door, he couldn’t stop his eyes from roaming over her soft curves. His body reacted like it usually did around Emelia, becoming hard and uncomfortable behind his zipper. He thanked his lucky stars that his sweatshirt dropped below his groin.

  Quickly averting his eyes before Barbara caught him, he let Emelia be fussed over by the older woman. They’d both gotten along in the past, but he wasn’t so sure what would happen this visit.

  With Emelia showing up like she had, Dante had an idea as to how she wanted the visit to go, he just needed to be certain that it was what he really wanted before he made such a huge decision. She made him afraid.

  What scared him was the knowledge that all Emelia would have to do was touch him, and then he wouldn’t be able to hold back when he knew they weren’t related by blood. He knew in his blood that the white collar around his neck wouldn’t make a difference in the end, he also knew that he’d fight it. He had to, otherwise, he wouldn’t be able to look anyone in the face at Mass. He certainly would never be able to preach about ‘sinning’ when he’d done just that.

  “Father, are you unwell?” Barbara asked, and reached for his forehead.

  “I’m fine. Please don’t fuss.”

  “Your sister looks like she could do with a hug about now.” She frowned. “So while you’re doing that, I’ll go and make a nice cup of tea.” She disappeared into the kitchen when he finally met Emelia’s gaze.

  Without a word said between them, he took that one step forward and pulled her against him. He wrapped his arms around her shoulders and buried his face in her neck, sighing in pleasure when she wrapped her arms around his waist and held tight.

  They stood wrapped together in a loving embrace for so long that even when the whistle blew on the old-fashioned teakettle, which Barbara insisted on using, it didn’t disturb them.

  Emelia felt so good in his arms that he feared he’d never be able to let her go. He needed to apologize to her, but not out in the hall. Barbara would leave shortly, maybe sooner if she thought Emelia needed to talk, and then they’d be alone.

  Not such a good idea.

  It didn’t matter. They’d be alone later, regardless of any intervention on Barbara’s part. He still couldn’t bring himself to release her. She smelled so good that his nose ran along her neck while he inhaled. Emelia gasped, and then pressed her mouth against his neck and moaned. The vibration sent desire racing to his dick, which swelled even more. He was afraid the thing would burst through his pants to get to her with how hard he was.

  So far he’d managed to keep himself in check while she was in his arms, but all it would take would be for her to move a tiny bit to the right and she’d feel every hard inch of him. That image caused his hold on her to slacken, and then he cleared his throat while stepping back.

  “You’ll be chilled,” he started, “having been outside in the snow. Let’s go and warm you up.” He casually wrapped an arm around her shoulders and led her to the kitchen.

  He hadn’t missed the surprise on her face when he’d mentioned warming her up. He knew what she thought he meant, and it killed him because that was what he wished he’d meant.

  In the kitchen, Barbara had already poured her a cup of tea, which for some reason she thought Emelia liked when, in actual fact, she hated the stuff. There was a slice of chocolate cake on a plate beside the tea and, of course, that was the first thing Emelia zeroed in on.

  “Oh, my favorite.”

  He reluctantly let her go once she’d sat herself down at the table. Barbara beamed with having Emelia at her table and he knew it was because she had someone new to talk to. She obviously got bored with him after a while, but he couldn’t blame her when he’d hardly said two words to her since he’d returned home.

  “I must have known you’d be here today when I baked that cake. It’s funny though because, as I whisked the mixture, I was thinking about you and how it was your favorite cake.” Barbara shook her head, smiled and joined Emelia at the table.

  Emelia broke a piece of cake off and popped it into her mouth, and then she looked up at him and smiled. She reached for his hand. “Sit with us. Don’t rush off.” Her fingers grazed his wrist and his body broke out in goose bumps.

  He dropped into the seat beside her and tried to concentrate on the conversation going on, but all he could think about was that Emelia was in his home.

  Before he knew they weren’t related, he had better control over his body’s reaction to her, but since the big confession, not even the fact that he was a priest could subdue how he reacted to her closeness.

  “Father, are you alright?” Barbara asked again, her worry was clear in her tone.

  “I’m fine.” He picked his teacup up, took a sip, and tried not to wince.

  He was most certainly a coffee drinker.

  Emelia chuckled and, when their eyes met, hers were full of amusement. She offered him a small smile and he was transfixed. Her olive skin had more color from when he’d opened the door to her, and although she was amused at him for having to drink the tea, she looked happy.

  “That’s my ride.” Barbara interrupted his thoughts when she moved from the table.

  “I’ll walk you out,” he offered, and stood to help Barbara into her jacket.

>   “It was lovely seeing you again.” Emelia gave Barbara a hug. “Thank you for taking great care of him.”

  “You’re welcome...of course, he’s good on the eyes so that’s a bonus,” Barbara chuckled, and slid her arm into his so he could lead her to the front door.

  Emelia had glanced at him at Barbara’s comment and she’d looked...sad, maybe.

  He shook his thoughts from his head and opened the door. Once Barbara was settled inside her friend’s car, he inhaled and exhaled slowly while looking around at the whiteness that surrounded him.

  They’d had so much snow that the combination of snow and sun was blinding.

  It didn’t take long for the coldness to seep through his sweatshirt, so he turned and made his way back inside and shut the cold out.

  He rubbed his hands together and stamped his feet a couple of times to try and get the blood flowing. The few minutes outside had frozen him through. But then Emelia was there.

  She took his hands into hers and rubbed them back to life, although he thought it was probably the woman herself who warmed him because she certainly warmed his heart.

  “You’re just as cold as I was from being outside, and at least, I had a jacket on.”

  He smiled. “It’s been a very long time since I was chastised for not wearing a jacket outside.”

  She looked up, and when their eyes locked, the world spun for Dante. His heart pounded and he’d never been so tempted to take that last step to join their lips. His eyes drifted downwards and settled on her beautiful mouth. He watched as she licked her lips with nervousness, no doubt, but he couldn’t take his eyes from her.

  They were locked into a cocoon of their own making, and Dante wished that they could stay inside—away from the world and all the wrongfulness of what he craved with every beat of his heart.

  “Dante,” Emelia whispered so quietly that, if he hadn’t been so consumed with watching her lips, he probably wouldn’t have heard his name.

  His eyes snapped up to Emelia’s, and he cleared his throat. “We need to talk.”