Ivo came to meet her later on and smiled when he found both Sofia and his mother asleep on the huge couch, Sofia with her head on his mother’s shoulder. He woke Sofia gently and together they helped his exhausted mother to bed. Sofia kissed Adria’s cheek. “I’ll call you tomorrow.”
“Please do,” Adria took Sofia’s hand. “I had fun today, after the you know.”
“What was my mother talking about when she said ‘you know’?” Ivo asked her in the cab back to his hotel. Sofia told him about her step-father and his threats.
“The thing is, he is right. I could be deported at any moment.”
“Not while I’m breathing.” Ivo sounded angry and she stroked his face.
“We’ll figure it out. I’m too tired to worry about it for tonight.”
At his hotel, they showered together and then made love. In the early hours of the morning, Ivo woke Sofia, his green eyes alive with excitement.
“What is it, my love?” She said sleepily.
His smile was triumphant. “I know a way you can stay in the country entirely legally.”
Sofia was awake now. “Really? How?”
Ivo kissed her, his mouth firm on hers, his tongue caressing hers, until she had to break away to breathe. “It’s simple,” he said, “You just have to say yes to my next question.”
The merriment in his eyes made her giggle. “Okay, yes to whatever you’re about to ask.”
“Good,” Ivo said, his hands stroking her body, his fingers tracing a pattern on her belly. “Sofia Amory?”
“Yes, Ivo Zacca?” She was enjoying his game.
“Would you do me the honor of becoming my wife?”
Chapter Seventeen
He was tiring of waiting around for an opportunity to seduce Sofia Amory. Grant moved through the Parisian night, his senses sharp, searching, searching for someone who looked like her. Someone he could fuck and pretend was her.
He found her in a nightclub and she easily fell for his charm – like they all did.
Except Sofia. The few times he had seen her since the gallery opening, she had been friendly but always kept him at a distance. That fucker Zacca was always around and now, he hadn’t seen Sofia at the apartment building in weeks. Maybe she had moved in with him?
He had taken to hanging around the gallery but she had been a no-show there too. Where the fuck was she?
He could feel the obsession with Sofia roiling around his gut, day and night. Tamara had seemingly lost interest, barely acknowledging him when they spoke on the phone. He had stopped calling after a few days and she hadn’t called him back.
Little matter. She had proved useful enough – without Tamara, he would never have known Sofia existed. He thought about her constantly. Her soft curves, the inky black hair falling in a sheet across her shoulders, that perfect little face. Those deep dark eyes. It took everything he had in him to control himself when he was around her. He dreamed of fucking her, hearing her gasp his name as he drove her towards orgasm.
The night she and Zacca had fucked for everyone to see. The way her tits and her belly were pressed hard against the glass had taken Grant’s breath away. He wanted her, he needed to have her. He would have her – by force if necessary.
It fueled his fantasies now as he fucked the girl he’d picked up in the club. He took her to a motel which rented rooms by the hour – saw the disappointment when she saw it. She soon got over it when he started to kiss her. He managed to conjure up Sofia’s face as he thrust hard into the girl, ignoring her small cry of pain. Sofia was all her could see and as he came, he groaned her name over and over. He collapsed on the girl, who shoved him away.
“My name isn’t Sofia.” She got up, pulling her dress over her naked body and grabbing her purse and coat. After she slammed the door, Grant lay on his back, imagining he could hear her crying. He grinned. Be grateful you’re not Sofia, whore, because instead of finding a taxi home right now, you’d be bleeding to death, with my knife in your belly.
He went to sleep dreaming of Sofia, breathing her last in his arms.
Chapter Eighteen
“Married?” Clemence stared at Adria with distress and horror. No. It couldn’t be true. Ivo and Sofia were married?
“They didn’t want anyone to know until afterward,” Adria said gently. She took Clemence’s hand. “I know this must a shock, dear, but you must know by now – Ivo has moved on.”
Clemence felt a stone lodge in her throat and she looked away from Adria’s gaze. “I’m happy for him. For them.”
“Clemence, I know what you must be feeling. I know you told Sofia about my cancer against Ivo’s wishes. I’m going to pretend that wasn’t deliberate.”
Clemence flushed. “I can’t help myself. She’s so beautiful and kind and…he never looked at me the way he looks at her, Adria. It hurts. Especially when I’m carrying his child. I’m sorry.”
She dashed away the hot tears that were spilling down her cheeks. “I miss him. But the strange thing is, I actually like Sofia a lot. I can see they are perfect for each other. That just makes the pain worse.”
Adria hugged her tightly. “Darling, we are all family now. You still have your friend, you still have Ivo in your life. But it’s time to move on.”
When Clemence was alone, she sat at the window of her apartment in the Marias, and people-watched. Adria was right. She felt bad for putting Sofia in an awkward position, for setting her up to cause trouble. It was beneath her. Clemence hoped she could salvage that friendship, when Ivo and Sofia returned from their honeymoon.
God. Honeymoon. Ivo was married. For the last time, Clemence allowed herself to mourn, weeping until she was exhausted and fell asleep.
When she woke, she decided that today would be the day she finally moved on.
Tamara waited until Penn Black left the apartment building before she went inside. She waited until he was driven away in a cab and there were no more than a few people on the street, then she slipped into the building, avoiding the cameras and quickly moving to the staircase. There was too much chance of her being spotted in the elevator’s. Penn lived on the top floor of the ten-story block – that much she had gleaned from him during one of their post-sex talks.
And it was sex – or even love-making now. No more Dom/Sub for them – it was now the beginnings of a full-blown relationship and Tamara could only see one obstacle to their being together. Penn’s girlfriend. The answer, to Tamara, was simple.
She knocked at the door and waited. Soon enough, a gorgeous young dark-haired woman opened the door and smiled at her. “Can I help you?”
“Hey there, I’m so sorry to bother you, but my friend lives downstairs and I can’t get her to open the door. I know she’s home, but she’s elderly and I’m concerned.”
“You mean Mrs. Kasovitch?”
Tamara nodded. “I know I shouldn’t panic but…”
“No, it’s okay. Actually, you came to the right door. I look after her cat when she’s away so I have a spare key.”
Tamara smiled. Bingo. “I hate to ask because I can see you’re pregnant and the elevator seems to be out of order.”
“Again? Dang it.” The woman grabbed a bunch of keys. “Damn thing is never working. Okay, it’s no problem. This little one needs some exercise anyway.” She wrapped a sweater around her shoulders. “Let’s go see Milly, check on her.”
It was so easy then. Tamara followed her to the stairs, then as the woman started to descend, one almighty shove. The pregnant woman didn’t have time to scream as she was propelled down the flight of concrete steps. Tamara watched dispassionately as the woman tumbled, her head connecting with the concrete and blood spurted as her head split open. After the woman landed, in an impossibly mangled heap, Tamara waited, listening for any moans, any signs of life. After a moment, she slowly descended. The pregnant woman’s eyes were open and staring, blood trickled from her mouth. No breath sounds. Tamara could see brain material on the concrete. From between the woman’s legs, bl
ood began to flood out. She was miscarrying, her child disconnecting from its dead mother. Tamara felt nothing but satisfaction.
She carefully side-stepped the dead woman and ran quickly and quietly down the rest of the stairs. Problem solved. It had taken less than five minutes and Tamara was satisfied. It had been just like the first time she had killed someone. Taken their legs out from under them, and like that time, she had gotten away with it.
The only difference this time was that the dead woman wasn’t her own mother.
Chapter Nineteen
Ivo trailed his lips along the length of his wife’s spine before biting gently down on her shoulder. “Wake up, sleepyhead.”
Sofia grinned, her eyes still closed. “I’m sleepy.”
Ivo chuckled, pushing her legs apart gently and thrust his diamond-hard cock into her from behind. Sofia laughed and moaned at the feel of him. “You are insatiable.”
She turned her head so he could kiss her lips. He withdrew and flipped her onto her back. “I want to look at you.”
Sofia wrapped her legs around his waist as he entered her again, kissing his lips, gazing at his gorgeous face. “Feels so good,” she murmured and Ivo thrust harder, laughing at her moan. “God, I love Mr. Zacca.”
“As I love you, Mrs. Zacca.”
They had been on Crete for a week now, a luxurious private villa on the beach and although they spent days out exploring the island, all of their evenings, nights and early mornings were spent making love, talking about their future. Here in their little Greek bubble, Sofia could imagine that they were the only two people I the world and that suited her just fine.
Married. That didn’t seem real to her. After Ivo had proposed, her instinct was to say yes but afterward, when they talked properly, she began to wondered if it was the right thing. “I don’t want you to feel trapped into marriage because of me,” she had told him, kissing him to soften the blow, “So I’m giving you an out. We can figure another way for me to stay in the country.”
Ivo had merely grinned. “Sofia, Bella, taking away ever other consideration, would you still marry me?”
Sofia had smiled. “Oh god, yes. Maybe not so quickly, but yes, yes, yes.”
“Then that’s all that counts. I love you, I want to be your husband – end of conversation.”
They had married quietly with just Ivo’s parents as witnesses. Walter and Adria, to Sofia’s surprise, had been genuinely delighted. Walter had flown into Paris to be with Adria during her treatment, and Sofia was delighted that Adria seemed okay with that. She felt as if they were family now. Adria had given her a ring to be married in. A simple white gold band. “It was my mother’s, darling. I want you to have it.”
The small band had fitted so perfectly on Sofia’s finger she knew it was the right thing to do to accept it and she had hugged her new mother-in-law. “Thank you. For everything.”
Now, as she and Ivo made love in the early light of dawn, Sofia felt as if she had finally found her home. She pressed her lips to his, tangling her fingers in his dark curls. “I love you so much,” she whispered and Ivo kissed her back passionately.
“You are my life,” he said simply. He began to thrust harder, deeper, and Sofia arched her back as she came, feeling him cum inside her, his seed pumping deep into her belly. Her husband. This remarkable gorgeous, generous man was her husband.
After showering together, they dressed and Sofia wandered into the kitchen. “I’m starving. You hungry, babe?”
Ivo grinned at her, and she thought again how handsome he was, just in his white shirts, and his blue t-shirt, he put shame to most other men. “Always.” He pretended to bite her neck.
Sofia giggled. “Lunatic. Sit, husband. Wife will cook.”
While she made them breakfast, Ivo flicked through his emails as they chatted. “Hey, Maceo has finally gotten around to planning a showing. Says he’d like some of your work.”
“That’s cool.” Sofia flipped the eggs she was cooking onto a plate for him. “When I think of where I was a year ago to now, it seems otherworldly, Ivo. All down to you.”
He shook his head. “Not true. Down to your talent.”
“We’ll have to agree to disagree on that one,” she smiled at him, “Eat your eggs, bub.”
Ivo shoveled a forkful of eggs down his throat. “Nice, thanks. Listen, I was thinking we should think about whether we want to stay in Paris for the long term. I’m happy there but it depends on what you want.”
Sofia nodded. “Honestly, as long as I’m with you, I’ll be happy anywhere. I would rather not go back to the States for an extended period, but if that’s what you want or need, okay then. You know what’s weird?” She sat down with her own plate and started to eat. “I’ve never even asked where you lived before Paris.”
Ivo smiled. “I guess we don’t know each other that well, yet, even though we think we do.”
“I guess not.”
Ivo reached over and stroked her cheek. “To answer your question, I moved around so much I have never had a permanent home anywhere. I moved from Los Angeles over to Europe after college and since then, I’ve rented places for maybe six months tops. Paris, Venice, Rome, Naples, Vienna, Berlin, Barcelona…you name it.”
“A nomad?”
He grinned. “More or less. Now, of course, Paris has been my home for nearly a year.”
Sofia chewed her lip. “I don’t want you to feel like you’re being caged with me. I could live that life with you – travelling here and there.”
“I don’t feel caged. For the first time, I feel…settled. And I don’t mean that in a dull way, I mean, I have roots…no, I’m not explaining it very well. How about this…. imagine we’re two dirigibles.”
Sofia started to laugh as Ivo went on. “Two colorful dirigibles and we have the ability to fly anywhere but at the moment, we’re choosing to remain tethered to the Eiffel Tower for the moment. We still have the choice to go anywhere.”
“That was the best way to describe it?” Sofia was crying with laughter and Ivo chuckled.
“You know what I mean.”
“Lunatic.”
“Lunatic in love with you.”
Sofia put down her fork and came to sit on his knees, kissing him. “You would have to be certified to love me so I can believe that.”
“Who wouldn’t love you?” He whispered, his eyes soft. “Look at you…so beautiful, so kind, and loving sexy as all hell.”
They kissed, not caring that both of them tasted of scrambled egg. Catching her breath, Sofia leaned her forehead against his. “You have made me the happiest woman on the planet,” she said. “No-one could love you more than I do.”
“I feel the same. And we have so much time to really get to know each other. All the good stuff. All the bad.”
“I don’t believe you have a bad trait at all,” she grinned, but Ivo’ smile faded.
“Oh, I do.”
Sofia smiled at him. “Tell me. Unless you’re a serial killer with a mommy fetish, I can’t see it.”
Ivo grinned. “Well, now that you mention it…” He wrestled her to the ground started to tickle her, making her shriek with laughter. “I’m a serial tickle monster.”
“Divorce!” Sofia shouted, trying to fight him off, giggling furiously. He stopped and wrapped his arms around her. Sofia kissed his eyelids. “You are so silly. But seriously, Ivo, I can handle anything so all I ask is that you never hide anything from me. Promise me, I’ll always be the one you confide in from now on.”
“I promise that, with all my heart.”
She slid her hand down to his groin, feeling his cock harden through the linen shorts. “And this belongs to me now.”
Ivo groaned as she squeezed his cock. “It was yours from the moment we met, Sofia.”
“Remember the first time we saw each other at the pool?”
“How could I forget?”
Sofia stood and pulled her dress over her head, slipping out of her underwear. She held her han
d out to him and pulled him up, tugging his t-shirt over his head. “I remember seeing you in the pool, this glorious body swimming up and down, and my body just reacted.”
Ivo kissed her as she pulled at the drawstring of his shorts and he shed them, stepping out of them. Sofia stroked his cock against her belly, feeling it stiffen. She looked up at him from under her lashes, knowing that drove him crazy with desire. “I swam with you; do you remember that?”
“I do.”
“And all the time, I was imagining what it might be like to just reach out and touch you. When we paused for air at one end, and I saw your face for the first time, there was water clinging to your eyelashes.” She stroked a finger over his long, thick lashes now and kissed his eyelids. “I thought you were the most magical thing I’d ever seen. The way the pool lights made your eyes so green…”
Ivo pressed his lips to hers. “I remember the way you disobeyed the swim cap rule and this mane,” he fisted her dark hair in his hand, “It was like halo around your head. When I saw you, with it streaming around you under the water, I thought, ‘My god, she’s an angel.”
Sofia grinned. “Cheesy.”
Ivo laughed. “I know but that was my honest reaction. I thought I’d blown it afterward, broke the spell, when I asked you if you would be there the next night.”
Sofia kissed him, pressing her body to his, feeling his cock grow even more harder, his arms tighten around her. “It was all I could do from not running into your arms. But I was a street girl, a homeless girl and you were…”
“Just a boy.”
“No, I knew you were special even then. My merman. I knew it could never be but the fact you would be back there the next night…I floated through the rest of the night. I keep thinking what if I never got sick? Would we be here now?”
Ivo held her gaze steadily. “I truly believe we would. We were meant to find each other, Sofia, il mia amore. Now…I’m going to take you into the pool outside and I’m going to make love to you the way I wanted to when we met.”
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