by Sofia Tate
“Having tests. It’s been quite an experience sharing a room with him. He snores like a fucking buzz saw.”
I laugh. “I’ll take your word for it.”
The curtain flutters, and Dr. Chapin, the one who operated on Davison, appears in front of us, this time in his white lab coat.
“Good morning, Mr. Berkeley. How are you feeling?”
“Fine. Ready to go home. How soon will that happen, Doc?”
I can tell from the frown on Dr. Chapin’s face he’s not used to being addressed so casually or seeing a patient’s girlfriend lying in the same bed as the patient.
“You need to heal, Mr. Berkeley,” he admonishes us, not so passive-aggressively.
Davison hugs me tighter and kisses my forehead. “Allegra is the only cure I need, Doctor Chapin.”
“Yes, well, just take it easy.” He huffs. “Once all of your tests are clear, you should be released in the next twenty-four hours.”
“That’s exactly what I needed to hear. Thanks, Doc.”
Dr. Chapin nods. “I’ll check on you later,” he mutters, leaving as quickly as he entered.
Once we hear the door shut firmly, I dissolve into laughter, burying my head in his right shoulder. “Oh my God! What is it with you today? Is it your goal to embarrass me in front of everyone you come into contact with?”
He laughs in return. “No, that’s just a bonus.”
I shake my head amusedly. “If I’ll be seeing to your needs, should I purchase a nurse’s uniform?”
“No, that won’t be necessary,” he says with a straight face, “since you’ll be naked the entire time during my convalescence back at my apartment.”
“Christ, you’re impossible,” I sigh, dropping my head on his healthy shoulder.
A few silent minutes pass between us when a realization strikes me.
“Oh my God…”
“What’s wrong, baby?” he asks, his voice raised in concern.
I grip his body tighter. “Remember when I went to see Ashton to ask if she knew anything about what was going on with you?”
He grunts in acknowledgment. “Yes. What about it?”
“Before I left, she said she didn’t know until that moment how much I really loved you…”
“And?”
“I told…I told her that I’d take a bullet for you.”
I start to cry, and Davison holds me closer to him. “Oh, Allegra, please don’t cry. Do you feel guilty that what you said came true and you couldn’t protect me?”
He knows me so damn well.
I nod through my tears.
“Well, don’t. That’s crazy. None of us knew that was going to happen, so stop with the tears, got it?” he pleads with me.
“Okay,” I acquiesce, wiping my eyes with my fingers.
“Look at me, baby,” he asks softly.
I shift my eyes to his. He stares back at me tenderly. “I’m shatterproof. We both are. You’re stuck with me, Orsini. For better or worse.”
“I wouldn’t mind more of the better from this point on.”
“Too right, Venus. Now kiss me.”
My smile stretches across my face as I lean in to kiss him. His mouth is warm and comforting as his tongue tangles with mine, and I revel in the taste of him.
When I pull away, he lays his head back and shuts his eyes, while I rest my head between his hard pecs so I can listen to his heartbeat, grateful for the strong, steady sound of it, pumping away in his broad, muscled chest.
He is still here. With me.
Chapter Twenty-Three
Davison
I’m not going to lie. I grew up in a very privileged manner. I attended private schools and the finest university in the world. I spent my summer vacations at our family chalet in Switzerland. There was nothing that couldn’t be had with a swipe of a credit card or bank transfer. I rarely heard the word “no.”
But as I sit at my dining room table one week later after being released from the hospital watching Leonard Preston complete final negotiations of my father’s surrender and penalty with the two federal agents across from him, I realize the trappings I grew up with are worthless. They are things that could’ve been taken away just like that. And everything that my father ever taught me was based on lies and shallow morals.
As the last points are made and confirmed, I think of how the one good thing in my life, the only thing of worth, is in my bedroom right now, sleeping peacefully after our marathon night of smoking-hot sex. Ever since I got home from the hospital, we’ve been beasts with each other, partly because of the thought that we came so close to losing each other again and also because, well, my Venus is a fucking goddess and I can’t keep my hands off her. We’ve had to be careful at times because my shoulder is still healing, but we work around my injury. We’re very considerate and accommodating of one another, but nothing will ever keep us from fucking until we’re both spent and sated.
“If that’s it, gentlemen, I’ll show you out,” Preston says commandingly. “My client will turn himself over tomorrow. We’ll be at your offices at nine a.m.”
I stand from my chair and escort the three men out. Once the elevator doors shut behind them, I fall back against the wall, exhaling deeply.
“Are they gone?” a sweet voice asks from the kitchen.
I turn and smile at the sound that I want to hear for the rest of my life.
“Yes, baby.”
I walk toward Allegra, wrapping her tightly in my arms. I inhale her wet hair, intoxicated by the familiar coconut scent.
“How did it go?”
“Come with me. I’ll tell you everything.”
I take her by the hand and lead her to the living room sofa. I sit down first, then settle her comfortably on my lap.
“Dominic will be spending the rest of his life behind the walls of a prison cell for his crimes. We still don’t know who sent Ian that prospectus letter, but I think it might’ve been Dominic’s assistant, since Dominic was a total asshole to work for. My dad and Ashton’s father will have to do some time as well, but minimum security. The Feds were more lenient with them since they were going to turn themselves in. No supermax prison for Hartwell Berkeley and Malcolm Canterbury. And, of course, there are the financial penalties.”
“Meaning what?”
“The Feds are seizing the house in Sutton Square and the chalet in Gstaad. And the company will become insolvent.”
She gently loops her arms around my neck, nuzzling my cheek with her nose. “I’m so sorry, Davison. I know how much that company meant to you. It’s your family legacy. You’re the strongest man I’ve ever met, but this must be killing you.”
I’ve never been more grateful for this woman than I am at this very moment.
“I thought I’d pass it on to my son one day,” I confess wistfully. “My great-grandfather built the company from nothing. He had a miserable childhood, so he came over from England in the late eighteen hundreds to explore America and decided to stay.”
“That’s him in the portrait in your office, right?”
I smile slightly. “I can’t believe you remember that. Yes, that’s him. Mason Hartwell Berkeley. And now it’s gone.”
“What about your mother?”
“She’s going to stay in Europe for a while until the media circus dies down. She hasn’t decided yet on London or Paris. Once she decides to come back, I’ll find an apartment for her.”
“Davison, what are you going to do now?” she asks softly.
I tilt her head so I can look into her warm brown eyes. “Don’t worry about me, baby. I’m already thinking ahead. The wheels are turning.”
“Do you mean you’re going to start your own company?”
“Something like that,” I hint with a smile.
“I don’t know much about business, but if there’s any way I can help—”
I cut her off with a hard kiss. “That is how you help me the most.”
She laughs aloud. “That’s easy enough.�
�� She pulls herself off my lap. “How about a late breakfast? I’m starving.”
“You start without me. I’ll be right there.”
“Don’t take too long,” she calls over her shoulder as she makes her way back to the kitchen.
Once I hear her puttering around, opening and shutting cabinets, I sit back on the couch, smiling to myself.
She thinks I was talking about business when I said I was already thinking ahead.
Good. Then she has no idea what I have planned for her.
* * *
Allegra
“Are you coming or not?”
“Will you cool your jets, Harvard?”
“I swear to God, woman, if you don’t get out here in the next five seconds, I’m opening this without you.”
“Davison, so help me if I hear the sound of tearing paper out there, no sex for you tonight, buddy boy!”
I hear him groan in frustration in his living room, making me smile wickedly. I step over to the floor-length mirror to check myself out. Everything is in place.
I walk over to the bedroom door. “Okay, now!” I shout out to him down the hallway.
I hear the rustle of tearing paper, and then, “No fucking way!” coming from Davison.
That’s my cue.
With the greatest of pain, I strut down the hallway to the living room in the six-inch knee-high leather boots that Lucy insisted I get to match the rest of my outfit.
Davison doesn’t see me right away because his back is to me and he’s studying the gift I gave him—a karaoke machine. I cough to gain his attention.
He starts turning around to face me. “You are too—”
At the sight of me, his eyes widen like saucers and his mouth drops. Exactly the reaction I was hoping for.
I smirk as I watch his fiery eyes roam over my body, taking in my attire—the leather bustier that’s pushing my boobs together, the tight leather miniskirt that hits me at midthigh, and the fishnet stockings that cover my legs, all in black. Then, he focuses on my face—the liquid black liner drawn on my eyes, the smoky eye shadow, and cherry-red lipstick painted onto my lips. With my hair properly moussed and tousled, I’m transformed from a classically trained opera singer into a rock-and-roll sexpot, and I’m about to disprove a point Davison made back in the villa in Lake Como. Now that it’s been two weeks since he’s been home from the hospital, I decided the time was right for his surprise.
“Fuck, baby…” he murmurs under his breath.
“That’ll come later,” I purr. “You like?”
“Are you kidding, Venus? You are giving me such a hard-on right now. Why don’t you come over to see for yourself?” he asks enticingly.
“Later, Harvard. Right now, why don’t you use that Ivy League–educated brain of yours to set that thing up?” I command, gesturing to the machine. “I’m going to give you a special private performance.”
In a heartbeat, he’s prying the box open with his bare hands. I grab a knife from the kitchen to help him out, handing it to him handle first. I hold the box as he pulls out the machine.
While he plugs it into the wall and quickly skims the instructions, I grab a CD that I left on the kitchen counter. I walk back into the living room and insert it into the machine, searching for the right song, and then hitting “play.”
“Have a seat, Berkeley,” I command him, pointing to the love seat instead of the couch so nothing is obstructing my path to him.
I take the microphone in hand as the opening sounds of an electric guitar fill the room as I start to sing the opening notes to “Bad Reputation.”
Davison laughs out loud at me singing along with Joan Jett. As much as I’m trying to maintain the hard rocker persona, I’m trying to suppress the giggles that are attempting to divert me from my intentions of trying to prove to him that I can sing rock music, but also, to let him see a side of me that he’s never seen before because this is just not me. Even though I can tell the karaoke machine isn’t of the best quality, I’m having too much fun now, shaking my hair and swiveling my hips, making sure he’s keeping his eyes on me by pointing at him with my index finger, then at myself when the lyric calls for it.
The song ends with a burst of defiance, and I’m left standing with my breath panting, my face covered in perspiration, mostly from the pain of having my boobs bound together by the constricting leather.
Davison jumps to his feet and screams, “Yeah, baby!” with his arms raised into the air. He pulls me to him and hauls me into his arms, his hands on my ass, twirling me around as we both laugh aloud from astonishment and the pure joy of being together.
He finally releases me and sets me on the floor. “That was payback for Como, wasn’t it?”
“Not so much payback,” I counter. “Just wanted to prove a point.”
He slowly runs a finger over the tops of my breasts. “You’re always going to keep me on my toes, aren’t you?” he whispers.
The shift of the tone in his voice throws me off. “I hope so,” I reply nervously, shivering at his touch, not completely sure where he’s going with this.
“Have a seat, Allegra,” he tells me, pushing me gently back onto the love seat. “I’ll be right back.”
My eyebrows furrow with concern as I watch him walk down the hallway, then return with three small boxes, two square and one narrow and rectangular.
He hands me the narrow one. “I want you to open this one first.”
“Davison, this is too much,” I mutter under my breath.
“Nothing is ever too much for you, Venus,” he replies with a serious look across his face.
The box lies heavily in my lap as I untie the ribbon around the box and sift through the tissue paper. The cover of a book reveals itself to me, the title written in both Italian and English—“An Erotic History of Italy.”
I dissolve into laughter. “Oh my God! Is this how you found out about the places in Italy where we stayed? The palazzo in Venice and the villa in Lake Como?”
He smirks. “Yup. Now open the cover and look at the upper right-hand corner.”
I do as he says, and my mouth drops in shock, tears instantly forming in my eyes.
My mother’s signature—“Concetta Rossetti”—is scrawled across the top, written in her beautiful cursive penmanship.
I can’t look at Davison because I’m still too overcome by emotion, tears streaming down my cheeks. “Where did you get this?”
He sits down next to me, joining me on the loveseat. “When we first started dating, I asked your father to lend me some books about learning Italian, the culture of Italy, those kinds of things. He gave this one to me inadvertently, and when I pointed it out to him, he said I could keep it so I could give it to you one day.”
I smile. “Smart. I don’t think I could’ve handled having Papa give this to me as a gift, considering the subject matter.”
“Exactly,” he concurs.
I wipe my eyes, then lean in and kiss Davison softly on the lips. “Thank you. This means the world to me.”
“You’re welcome, baby, but we’re not done yet.”
He stands up and reaches for the next box, placing it in my lap. “One down, two to go.”
I sigh amusedly as I open it to reveal a black velvet ring box, the very one that Davison had presented to me before I left for Italy with the key to his apartment inside it.
I start to cry again when I open it, the key staring back at me.
“Will you, Allegra?” he asks.
I look up at him. My reply mirrors his question in its tender simplicity. “Yes.”
I jump from the seat into his arms, kissing him firmly, wrapping my arms around him tightly, never wanting to let go.
Then he unexpectedly uncoils my arms from his neck. “You need to be sitting down for the last one,” he declares, pushing me back into the love seat.
“Whatever you say, Mr. Bossy,” I reply, rolling my eyes, giving him an amused smile.
When he hands me the last box, I s
hake it just to bring some levity to the moment.
“Be careful,” he warns me sternly. When I glance at him, he seems anxious.
He’s unnerving me. “Are you all right?”
He takes a deep breath. “Never better, baby,” he replies confidently, all of his nervousness dissipated.
Okaaaay…
Under the thin layer of tissue, my hand comes into contact with another small box. Its corners have slanted edges, which raises my curiosity. I look up at Davison, who is staring back at me, his eyes dark and serious.
“Go on,” he commands in the low rumble of his voice that arouses me to my core.
I finally pull back the tissue to see what is hiding under it. I gasp, my hand flying to my mouth to cover it, stunned beyond belief.
It’s the Cartier ring box, the box that Ashton had told me held her newly purchased engagement ring from Davison, but which actually turned out to be an antique ring that had belonged to his grandmother and was never intended for Ashton.
And now…my hands are shaking from the mere thought of what’s about to happen.
Davison drops to one khaki-clad knee, taking my hand to turn it over so he can place the red Cartier box on my palm.
“Open it, Allegra,” he manages, his voice breaking from the heady feeling of this life-changing moment.
I press the gold button on the bottom of the box, revealing the stunning diamond ring inside it.
Through my blurred vision because of the tears that are now freely running down my face, I can see Davison take the ring and place it on the appropriate finger of my left hand.
“Oh my God, it’s so beautiful,” I murmur, barely able to speak, my throat choked up from the emotion pulsing throughout my body, my hands shaking in anticipation.
“Allegra Orsini, from the moment my eyes met yours that night at Le Bistro, I knew I was going to marry you—”
“You did not,” I mutter, shocking myself and Davison for breaking the moment.
I clamp my right hand over my mouth in disbelief, but then just as quickly, we both laugh, slightly lessening the weight of what’s happening but not taking away the joy of it.
Davison shakes his head and smiles, taking my hand, and caresses his thumb over it, just like that first night we met. “And that, my Venus, is why I’m doing this. Why I’m asking you to spend the rest of your life with me. You love me for who I am. You never cease to surprise me. You’re never afraid to tell me when I’m being an ass, but you’re always there for me when I need you. I want to be a better man because of you. You make me laugh until it hurts. And I want to be your constant, like you are for me, so you will know that I will always support you, no matter where your career takes you. I want to be there for your ups and downs. We’ve been through so much, all of which taught me that I want your face to be the first thing I see in the morning and the last thing when I lay my head down at night.”
