by Wendy Rosnau
The muscle in Lucky’s jaw tightened and his heart started to pound heavily inside his chest. He followed the stone path past Chansu on his perch surrounded by the fragrant jasmine. The bird’s eyes opened, and he said, “Sweet dreams, moron.”
Lucky ignored the bird and entered the water. Forgetting about the bandage on his arm, he headed for the waterfall and passed through it to the other side.
When he stepped out of the waterfall, Elena sighed in relief. Benito had told her that Lucky was all right, but after seeing the blood on his arm and knowing what Joey had gone through, she’d been anxious to see for herself.
Seated on the rock where they’d made love the night before, she bit her lip and waited for him to speak. She’d gone against his wishes and returned to Chicago. What would he say about that? What would he do?
He approached her, his eyes drifting to the small cut on her lip. “Where have you been, Elena?”
His voice was deep, her name so thick on his tongue that it made Elena shiver. “I rode with Frank to the airport,” she said. “We talked.”
He left the water, walking slowly toward the rock. “That was hours ago.”
“We had a lot to discuss. How’s your arm?”
“It’s fine. You told Frank it was Vinnie who hurt your mother.”
“Yes. I thought he deserved to know the truth.”
He pulled himself up onto the rock, his pants clinging to his muscular thighs as he sat down beside her. The strength he radiated was so potent it made Elena want to melt into him.
He asked softly, “Was there another reason you told him?”
Heart pounding, Elena angled her head to look at him. He was so handsome sitting there half-naked with the silver cross nestled into the damp hair on his chest. His strong jaw was unshaven, his eyes black as midnight.
“The truth, Elena.”
“All right. Yes, there was another reason. I know you promised my father that you would avenge my mother for him. But it wasn’t your responsibility. I tried to do it the other night and failed.” She paused, lowered her head. “I knew Frank wouldn’t fail if he knew the truth.”
“So you came back to finish what you’d started. But you’re still here, and the job is done. What else is there left to do, Elena? If you’re wondering about your father’s money, it’s in a trust fund with your name on it.”
Confused, Elena frowned. “You think I came back for money?”
He shrugged. “As you know, I have no interest in it. I set up the trust fund at the same time I agreed to become Vito’s heir. You can access the money whenever you want.”
Elena straightened her spine. “Listen, you, I didn’t come back for my father’s money.”
Angry, she started to get up off the rock, but Lucky grabbed her arms, and towering over her, he forced her onto her back. “So, Elena, why did you come back if it wasn’t for Vito’s money?”
“I came back to—” she swallowed hard “—to thank you.”
“Thank me?”
His dark eyes narrowed, and Elena felt the lump in her throat swell. She tried to clear it away. Tried again. “You’re making this difficult, Lucky.”
“On purpose, Elena. My life is difficult. It will get even more difficult in the years to come.”
“Yes, I know. Frank told me you’ve agreed to take Carlo Talupa’s place in the famiglia.”
“And how do you feel about that?”
“I know you will do your best to change things. After all, you are the American Armanno. My father liked calling you that. I didn’t understand why until…”
“Until?”
“Until I got to know you.”
His scowl deepened, and Elena raised her hand to smooth it away. “Grazie. Thank you for showing me by example what it means to be a true mafioso, Lucky. That’s what I came back to tell you.”
She waited for him to say something. He wasn’t going to ask her to stay, she decided. He wasn’t going to say the words she longed to hear. She was in love with him. Had been from the moment she’d seen him at Santa Palazzo standing by the bar, his scarred hand clasping his famous glass of Scotch.
His gaze shifted to her breasts, where the wet satin clung to her dark nipples. “Elena,” he murmured, lowering his head to brush a light kiss on her lips, “do you think that maybe you and I could—”
“Yes.”
He frowned. “You say yes, even though you don’t know what I was going to ask you?”
Elena took a deep breath, felt her cheeks turn hot. “Yes, I would love to feel you there,” she admitted. “That’s what you want, right? I can feel you hard against me.”
He stared at her for a long moment, his frown fading. Then slowly he stood and shoved his black satin pants down his body. He returned to her, slipping between her legs, asking, “How long can you stay?”
She felt the hot tip of him move into position. “I could stay for a while. I could—”
“Share my bed?”
Oh, yes, she thought. Yes, she would love to wake up next to him. “It’s a big bed,” she sighed as his lips played with her mouth.
“Sì, it is a big bed,” he agreed. “A big house.” He raised his head, looked down at her. “There would be a condition you would need to consider.”
Here it comes, she thought. He was going to stipulate that when he asked her to leave, she would go without hesitation or argument. Whether it was tomorrow or next week. But what Lucky didn’t understand was that she would agree to whatever he wanted as long as she could see him for an hour or a week. “I agree to the condition,” she said softly.
“You do? Again, without hearing what it is?”
“Yes.”
“Then should I call a priest tonight, or do you want a double wedding with Jacky and Sunni?”
“What?”
“The choice is yours.”
Stunned, Elena asked stupidly, “That’s the condition? You want me to marry you?”
“What did you think the condition was going to be, Elena?”
“I… You want me to live here with you as your wife?”
“That’s what a wife usually does.” He moved his body, slid halfway into her. “No condom, Elena. Just me, huh? Say yes. I love you, and I will keep you safe. It is my promise to you. You can trust that. You trust me, huh?”
Yes, she trusted him. Would trust him with her life. With their children’s lives. She said, “Say the words again, Lucky. Say them slowly and use my name.”
He sank into her fully, deeply. “I love you, Elena. I love you with my heart and my body.” He bent his head and kissed her lips as the heat built between them. “Marry me and live here at Dante Armanno with me. Live with me until…forever.”
Elena ran her hands over his hips, then up his back, caressing the scar along his spine. “I love you until I ache. You are everything to me. Yes, my sexy mafioso. Yes, I will marry you and live with you forever.”
“Sexy?” He grinned, then began to move his hips. “Grazie, Elena. Grazie. I promise you won’t be sorry. I never go back on a promise. You know this, huh?”
“Because you are a man of honor.” She sighed heavily, loving the feel of him so deep.
“Sì, Elena. A man of honor.”
Epilogue
Lucky carried the box out of the house and slid it into the back of a company van from Masado Towers. “That’s the last of it,” he told Joey, closing the door. “The house is empty. I have officially moved out.”
Joey asked, “You’re sure you want to do this?”
“I’m sure.” Lucky leaned against the van next to his brother. “You said you could use another vacant house. And this one’s vacant.”
“Well, it won’t be like we’re selling it,” Joey stressed. “We’re just using it for the shelter. I got three boys at the moment without beds.”
Lucky glanced back at the old house where they’d grown up. “There are three vacant beds upstairs. Room for more if you need it. The house could handle six or eight boys.”
“Well, it just might come to that. There are new kids showing up at the shelter daily.”
Joey’s shelter for teenagers in need of a safe home and a warm meal had turned into a twenty-house project, a recreation center, with an educated staff determined to make a difference in Little Italy—all of it funded by the Masado brothers.
Lucky blew out a breath. It was barely dawn. New Year’s Day. Another two inches of fresh snow lay on the ground, and the temperature was sixteen degrees. This winter would go down in the record books as being one of Chicago’s most memorable. Snowbanks four feet high, and windchills of minus twenty.
Yes, memorable in more ways than one, Lucky mused, feeling better than he had in years—in body and in spirit.
“Things are going well at the house?” Joey asked.
“Things are interesting,” Lucky supplied.
“Interesting?”
“I think Palone is putting the moves on Summ.”
Joey grinned. “You don’t say. And Elena, how is she doing? Keeping warm on these cold Chicago nights?”
His brother was grinning at him, and Lucky grinned back, reminded of how he’d awoken around 4 a.m. to Elena swimming naked in the pool, coaxing him with that look that promised him another euphoric experience behind the waterfall. He’d been having a lot of those experiences lately and loving every minute. He said, “She hasn’t been complaining. How’s Rhea feeling?”
“She’s decorating a nursery. She’s not even showing yet, and she’s buying baby quilts. I have to admit I’m anxious, too. I missed seeing her pregnant with Niccolo.” Joey shrugged. “We told him he was going to get a playmate.”
“And how did that go over?”
“He ordered a brother.”
Lucky chuckled, checked his watch. “We better get going if we’re going to meet Jacky for breakfast downtown. We don’t want him to be late for his wedding. Sunni will skin both of us.”
“Jacky wants Mac to come to the wedding. Sunni says no. She doesn’t trust the dog to behave himself,” Joey offered. “Father Andrew agreed. He told Jacky that the church has never had a dog in it, and it never will.”
They climbed into the van, Lucky behind the wheel and Joey in the passenger seat. Lucky took one last look at the house, then started the engine. “Let’s drive by Vina’s house and make sure her sidewalk’s been shoveled. She doesn’t need one more thing to think about today. She’s been in a cooking frenzy for two days.”
They were only five minutes late when they pulled into the underground garage below Masado Towers. Jacky was already there waiting next to the elevator and talking to the night watchman. As they approached him, he turned and grinned. “Well, this is it. My last meal as a free man.”
They entered the elevator, all three of them wearing jeans and leather jackets, their silver crosses inside their shirts.
As the elevator started to climb, Joey asked, “How’s Sunni this morning?”
“She’ll be fine once I stop by Silks and pick her up a few things.”
Lucky raised an eyebrow, then glanced at Joey. “Sounds like Mac’s been up to his old tricks again.”
Jackson made a face. “He took one of Sunni’s bras to bed with him last night. It’s in two pieces this morning. It’s happened before, but this time it was the one she’d special-ordered to fit the neckline of her wedding dress. All I can say is it’s a good thing she’s started ordering three of the same thing at a time.”
“So I guess Mac won’t be going to the wedding,” Lucky supplied.
“No. He’s going to spend a quiet day in front of the TV. I’ve ordered him Westminster’s Most Memorable Moments.”
“So when’s our next meeting at the house?” Jackson asked. “Hank’s got a new project he wants to discuss with us. He says it’s rumored another cartel wants to move in.”
Joey looked at Lucky. “Did you know about that?”
“Sì, I know.”
“I suppose you’ve already got it under control.”
Lucky’s smile answered Joey’s statement. “Tell Hank you’ll pick him up Tuesday at nine, Jacky. But tell him not to worry about this new cartel moving in. They’ve changed their minds.”
“A dog in church. Did you see the look on Father Andrew’s face?” Rhea bit her lip, but her laughter escaped, anyway.
“I took pictures,” Elena said.
“I want copies, okay?”
“Copies of what?” Lucky asked as he followed Lavina into the kitchen at Caponelli’s.
“Pictures of Jackson and Sunni’s wedding ceremony.” Rhea grinned. “All of it.”
“Where in heaven’s name did I put the caponata?” Lavina fussed. “Lucky, did you open the wine so it can breathe? And the punch, is the ice ring the bowl?”
“Wine’s breathing, Vina,” he assured. “And the ice is floating. Relax. From here on out, things will go smoothly.”
“I wouldn’t bet on it. The day has been one disaster after another.”
Elena watched her husband saunter toward her wearing a black tux and a sexy smile. Yes, her husband. They had called Father Andrew the very next day after Lucky had asked her to marry him. They’d been married in a small ceremony at Dante Armanno, surrounded by Joey and Rhea and Jackson and Sunni. And of course, Lavina and Nicci, Summ and Benito, and Chansu and Mac.
Lucky slipped past Rhea and wrapped his arm around Elena. “So this is where my wife’s been hiding.”
She angled her head to accept his kiss. “Miss me?”
“Always.”
“There will be time for that later,” Lavina chastised as she located the last entrée for the buffet table. “Now come along, you three, and no more Godfather jokes, Lucky. Sunni’s father is the chief of police in New Orleans.”
“Sì, Vina. I know this.”
“Then I don’t know why you’re aggravating that poor man’s ulcer. He’s been rubbing his stomach since he arrived in town. Oh, dear, I hope it’s not my cooking.”
“I’m sure it’s not,” Rhea soothed, taking the caponata from Jackson’s mother. “I’ll finish setting up the buffet, Lavina, while you go round up everyone for the pictures.”
“Thank you, dear.” Lavina smiled at Lucky and Elena. “It was a beautiful wedding. At least it was until…” She sobered. “Do you think Sunni’s parents noticed him?”
Everyone had noticed him, Elena thought. How could anyone miss a hundred-pound German shepherd belly-crawling up a thirty-foot aisle, then up four steps to crawl beneath Sunni’s winter-white wedding dress, his tail sticking out one side and his nose the other.
Elena and Lucky followed Rhea and Lavina out of the kitchen. As they entered the dining room, Elena noticed Sunni on Jackson’s arm, greeting their guests. They were a beautiful couple, Jackson so tall in his black tux, and slender Sunni, her black hair piled on top of her head, in white silk.
Caponelli’s had occupied the same corner in Little Italy for thirty years, and the entire neighborhood had turned out for Jackson’s wedding.
“Do you wish you’d had a church wedding?” Lucky asked.
Elena looked up at him. “I think our wedding was perfect.” The fireplace had been blazing and she’d felt her father’s presence. Yes, it had been perfect. She said, “Our wedding night was perfect, too.”
“Euphoric.” Lucky’s hand slid over Elena’s backside and pulled her close. “I sure like the way this slippery dress feels. I like the color, too. You look good in red.” His gaze locked on her cleavage and the ruby that dangled between her breasts. “Wearing one of my favorite bras?” he asked softly.
Elena turned into him. “This dress,” she whispered sexily, “is cut too low in both front and back to wear a bra.”
He stared at her. “You mean you’re not wearing one?”
Today he smelled like spicy aftershave, or maybe it was orange-spice tea. She leaned forward and ran her tongue over his lower lip, then pressed herself into him. “You tell me.”
Before he could answer, Lavin
a called out, “I want a picture of my boys and their wives. Line up in front of the register. Come on now. Line up. Joey, get Niccolo. I want him in the picture, too.”
As Joey and Lucky stood on either side of Jackson, Sunni and Rhea stepped into place in front of their husbands. Elena followed, hesitating a moment to glance up at the photo that hung behind the cash register: three small smiling boys sitting on a green couch. Years later they were still smiling, still best friends.
Beneath the photo, Elena read, Friends to the end and beyond. Eternamente. Per sempre.
She stepped into her rightful place in front of Lucky, and when she felt his hands glide over her hips and draw her against him, she leaned back. She felt something solid brush her backside and she angled her head to look up at her husband. “Lucky?”
“What is it, Elena?”
She arched an eyebrow at him. “That’s what I’d like to know. What is it? Are you still thinking about what I’m not wearing, or do you have a gun in your pants?”
He smiled down at her, then gave her back her words from a moment ago. “You tell me. An experienced woman should be able to tell the difference. Especially one who knows her man as well as you do.”
He nudged her gently and gave her a wolf’s grin. Elena responded by parting her lips and offering him her sexiest smile. “A man of steel,” she whispered. “Every woman’s dream.”
“Lucky and Elena, you need to move in,” Lavina insisted. “That’s it. Jackson, put your arms around Joey and Lucky. Okay, now everyone smile. Good or not, this picture is going on my wall.”
And it did go on Lavina’s wall, her boys and their beautiful wives on Jackson’s wedding day—along with Mac sneaking into the picture at the last minute.
ISBN: 978-1-4268-8273-9
LAST MAN STANDING
Copyright © 2003 by Wendy Rosnau
All rights reserved. Except for use in any review, the reproduction or utilization of this work in whole or in part in any form by any electronic, mechanical or other means, now known or hereafter invented, including xerography, photocopying and recording, or in any information storage or retrieval system, is forbidden without the written permission of the editorial office, Silhouette Books, 233 Broadway, New York, NY 10279 U.S.A.
