Shadow Warrior (The Shadow Series Book 4)

by Christine Feehan

  He took the wrapping off a small bowl of salad. “This is tempeh salad with plum and charred artichoke hearts and bok choy. She went to a lot of trouble for us tonight.”

  She touched her tongue to her upper lip as he poured red wine into glasses. “I chose the wine. I think you’ll like it. If not, we can choose something else. There’s an extensive wine cellar here and we should be able to find you something.”

  Grace picked up her fork. The food did look delicious and sounded even better. She took a tentative taste of the salad, aware of Vittorio’s gaze on her. She sent him a small, embarrassed smile. “Are you going to keep watching me?”

  “Yes. Why?”

  “It’s a little unnerving. No one’s ever paid so much attention to me before.”

  “I like looking at you, especially right now, in your lingerie. I knew that color would be especially beautiful on you. The candles play over your breasts perfectly and light up your skin as well as throw flames in your hair.”

  The way he talked, so matter-of-factly, as if he was discussing the weather and not her body, made her hot all over again. He sounded as if he were stating facts, admiring a beautiful art object rather than a flesh and blood person.

  “You’ll have to get used to me looking at you all the time, gattina, because I intend to indulge myself as often as possible.”

  “You do?” She barely could croak out the question. Her voice didn’t sound like her own.

  He nodded slowly. “Just knowing you’re here in my home with me pleases me, but knowing I can look at your body anytime I ask, and you’ll indulge me, arouses me. Thinking about that gives me great pleasure.” He ate two more bites while she stared at him a little helplessly. “You would indulge me, wouldn’t you, Grace?”

  She knew she would. She knew she would be equally as aroused by giving him what he wanted. It was a powerful thing to be wanted with the kind of intensity Vittorio showered on her. She nodded. “Yes.” Her voice was very low, but to her astonishment, she sounded blatantly sexual. She felt sexy as hell sitting across from him when she’d never, not once, felt that way in her life. She knew he made her feel that way because he saw her that way.

  “I like the idea of walking into a room and you’re there, naked, waiting for me. Just waiting quietly.” He looked around him. “This house is all about peace. I like it quiet. I meditate often. Do you meditate?”

  “I’ve tried. I thought it might help me cope better with the stress of Haydon. I tried to learn from reading books.”

  “I rise early as a rule.” His gaze drifted over her, dwelling on her breasts and then sliding lower. The glass tabletop enabled him to look at the green lace pulled up to her hips.

  She pushed her thighs together almost involuntarily, her face burning. Her body was slick with need and with the candlelight playing over her, it would be impossible for him not to notice.

  “Don’t do that. Widen your thighs, Grace.” He spoke in that same low tone, the one that got to her, but also was more of a command than a statement.

  She found herself obeying and the moment she did, her sex clenched hotly, and more liquid slipped along her upper thighs.

  “So beautiful. I could eat you for breakfast, lunch and dinner. You’ve set up a craving that is never going away.” He leaned across the small table. “I would very much like another taste, bella.”

  She froze, uncertain what he meant her to do. He didn’t help her out at all, rather he lifted his wineglass to his fantastic mouth that she was now fantasizing over, and drank the red liquid, his eyes on her face.

  More than anything, Grace wanted to meet his every expectation, because every look, every gesture, every suggestion was so sexual, so intimate, she was more aroused by the moment. She wanted to feel beautiful, desirable, but it was more than that. He made her feel as if she belonged to him. That every single part of her belonged to him. She’d always wanted something different and more complex than she knew most people had in their relationships, but she hadn’t known what it was. Now she did.

  Vittorio didn’t ask again. He remained silent, but he set his glass down, his eyes on her face. Very slowly, Grace put down her fork, her gaze locking with his. Her hand moved to her neck, fingers feeling the pulse beating so frantically there. Her fingertips traveled down her body, between the curves of her breasts, lower along her belly, absently traced her belly button.

  The heat in his eyes flared. Smoldered. Lust was stark and raw. His gaze followed the movement of her hand as it slid over the green lace and then into the damp, fiery curls. He waited. Unmoving. Daringly, just to please him, because she knew that was what he wanted, she stroked her clit and then curled one finger inside the damp heat of her body.

  Her breath hitched as electricity sizzled through every nerve ending. His breath hitched as well, and she saw his face darken, lines of lust cut deep. He looked like sin itself—the devil tempting her when she was doing her best to tempt him.

  “All the way for me, Grace.” His voice was a little husky, but as commanding as ever.

  She pushed her finger deeper and then turned it, making certain to coat the digit with her liquid heat. She pulled it out slowly and held it out to him. The liquid glistened as the candlelight played over it.

  “Mia bella ragazza, sei cosi coraggioso. I never thought it would ever be possible to find you.” He circled her wrist with his hand to steady her arm. “In all honesty, I didn’t think there was a woman in the world for me. You couldn’t be more perfect.” He leaned closer and took the tip of her finger between his lips, his eyes on hers as he slowly sucked it deeper into the hot cavern of his mouth.

  The bottom of her stomach seemed to drop to the floor. She really was afraid she might spontaneously combust.

  He sank back into his chair and once again picked up his fork. “You have to eat, gattina, and we really have to talk.”

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  Vittorio watched the frustrated sexual need build in Grace’s eyes. He reached across the table to take her fork when she just sat there looking at him, a little dazed and as adorable as she could be. He forked a bite off her plate and held it to her lips until she opened. She could have been stubborn, but that wasn’t his woman. She tried for him.

  He’d made up his mind years earlier that he would never have the life he wanted or even needed. He would do his duty as a rider and he’d be faithful in a loveless marriage. That was a matter of honor. He had a code he lived by and he wouldn’t break it because he wasn’t happy.

  Now there was Grace. An unexpected gift. She was far more than he’d ever fantasized or dreamt about. She was courageous and beautiful. Intelligent and no pushover. He wanted a woman who could stimulate him intellectually. One who would run his home and see to those details. He also wanted a woman willing to follow him and, in their home, give over control to him. He had thought such a woman probably didn’t exist.

  “Before we take our relationship any further, Grace, I’d like to clarify a few things. I don’t want you to think I’m just controlling things in my household because I can. There are things that I’ve come to know I need in order to function. This isn’t about me imposing my will on you. It’s about me living in an environment I can handle, do my work and survive intact.”

  Just revealing that much could get him in trouble. He rubbed at the faint shadowing along his jaw. No matter how often he shaved, it was always there. Her gaze followed the motion of his fingers, but she took another bite of her tostada. He didn’t want her to question him too much about his work, but like most people, she bought into the fact that the family owned many businesses and those businesses had to be overseen.

  The fact was—he was virtually an assassin. Riders meted out justice, but at the end of the day, they were still sent out to kill—and they did. The safeguards were in place, several of them, to ensure no mistakes were made but, even knowing whomever they were sent after had committed horrendous crimes and gotten away with it, they had to live with the fact that they killed
. Over and over. They had to be apart from the rest of the world. They had to live a lie.

  “I need a certain balance in my world. My preference would be that my woman would want to adhere to my lifestyle. I want her by my side as much as possible. I’m not a man who would get tired of my woman because she was with me too much. There isn’t a ‘too much’ for me. When I get up in the morning to meditate, I would need my woman to also get up to meditate with me. I want her to eat breakfast with me. I want her to exercise when I do.”

  Grace’s expression didn’t change to one of alarm as he’d feared. She was listening, and he could see she was carefully thinking over everything he was telling her. He felt a little as if he was holding his breath. He already knew she was a match for him sexually. She’d just proved to him that she was. She sat wearing what he’d asked her, giving him everything he asked without question. She was a natural for him, as if she’d been made for him. Now he was asking even more of her. He couldn’t imagine that any woman would want to be with a man with his kind of needs, but she wasn’t running.

  “In other words, you would prefer that we do everything together.”

  He took a bite of his food before answering. “As much as possible, yes.” He barely tasted the tostada, and blackberry salsa was one of his favorites. He had years of practice keeping his expression blank. Although he felt as if he couldn’t keep his breath, it never showed on his body. If someone had taken his pulse, it would have been steady. He sounded matter-of-fact, but this was one of the most important conversations he’d ever have in his life.

  She nodded. “I have to admit, I would want a close relationship as well. I honestly didn’t think men and women wanted to spend time together once they were committed. The people I’ve talked to seem to think they have more to talk about if they go their separate ways.”

  “That could be, but it won’t work for me. I hope it doesn’t for you.”

  “And if we have children and I’m exhausted from staying up all night?”

  “We’re exhausted. You won’t be taking care of our children alone. Clearly things will change, but we’ll talk it over and manage the differences as they arise.”

  She smiled and tried the salad. “Merry is amazing.”

  “She is,” he agreed. “There’s more, Grace, and it’s important that you really think about what I’m asking of you before you commit to me. I’d rather lose you now than later, after we’re so entangled it’s a nightmare to separate. I don’t believe in divorce. It isn’t something my family easily does. If we take a vow, it means something. The consequences would be . . . brutal.” He knew she would think, as most people would, that he meant dividing their assets and if they had children, sorting that out.

  “I would never go into a relationship with the idea that I can easily get out,” Grace told him, putting her fork on the table in order to pick up her wineglass. Her hand was a little unsteady as she brought the glass to her lips.

  “When we’re alone in this house, and that will be most of the time, I would expect my woman to do as I ask her.” He watched her closely.

  She blinked. Looked up at him. “In what way?”

  “In every way. If I asked you to meet me outside wearing nothing but that little robe that’s lying across your bed right now, I would expect you to do it.”

  A soft rose flush slid over her skin and she pressed her thighs together. It was a subtle reaction, but one he’d hoped to see. She reacted in the best possible way. The idea didn’t make her want to talk about rights and equality but was seductive to her. He resisted the urge to scoop her up and kiss her until neither of them could breathe. He knew that wouldn’t be fair to her. His lifestyle wasn’t for a moment or two. It was what he would expect for their lifetime.

  “The thing to think about, Grace, isn’t whether or not you need this lifestyle, too. Deep down, where it counts, before you ever commit to me, you have to know that this is something that will satisfy you sexually and in every other way. It can sound exciting, but then get old very fast. Sometimes it will feel one-sided. You won’t always agree with me. Or want to do the things I ask of you.”

  She put her wineglass down. He noted she’d drunk more than half. “I might be afraid.”

  Her voice quivered, and Vittorio wanted to gather her up and hold her on his lap to comfort her, but he forced himself to remain where he was. “I expect that you will. I also would expect your trust and your communication. You have to tell me that you’re afraid. You have to say when you don’t like something we do. For a relationship to work between us, I need to know how you’re feeling at all times.”

  She nodded, her gaze fixed on his face. He liked that she was giving him her full attention when he needed her to.

  “That being said, it doesn’t mean we won’t go there, only that we’ll discuss it more and we’ll take things slow until you get to a place you’re no longer afraid.”

  “What happens if I don’t do something that you want me to do?”

  “Then I would be very disappointed.”

  Her lashes lifted and she looked directly back into his eyes. His heart lurched at what he saw there. She didn’t like the idea of him being disappointed. He had to find a way to make certain she would always look at him that way.

  “So, no whips.”

  “I would never, in any way, hurt you. My woman is the one I love and respect more than any other and I would never want to see her hurt.” He meant that, but didn’t agree that there wouldn’t be whips.

  Vittorio wasn’t a man who would ever enjoy seeing tears in his woman’s eyes—Grace’s eyes. He had already passed being interested in her or falling for her, he was there. He’d been in her company for nearly six weeks now and he knew he wanted to spend a lifetime with her. He was giving her an out while he could, and it wasn’t easy. Listening to himself talk about his needs made him feel selfish, and he was afraid the things important to him would drive her away, especially since he couldn’t explain why he needed precise obedience and complete control in his home to keep him sane.

  “That’s a good thing.” She finished off her wine and put the glass down, once more picking up her fork to shove her salad around.

  Clearly the tempeh wasn’t her favorite and he made a mental note to tell Merry not to serve it to her again.

  “Having said I’m not into giving my woman pain, that doesn’t necessary mean there won’t be whips.” He poured a teasing note into his voice but watched her closely.

  She sat up straighter. “Vittorio, I’m not into pain at all.”

  “That’s a good thing. I just told you I’m not into inflicting it on my woman. I want to bring you pleasure, not hurt you. Sometimes, gattina, playing can be very sexy.”

  She was silent for a moment and then she visibly relaxed. “I’ll have to trust you on that.”

  He was very pleased with her answer. He took a sip of his wine, wondering what he’d done right for the universe to send him such a gift.

  “What about you, Grace? I’d like you to tell me the things that you feel you need in a relationship.”

  “I want to feel loved,” she said without hesitation. “I want to know that my man loves me and isn’t looking at other women when I’m not with him. You’re extremely wealthy and used to women throwing themselves at you. You’ve dated gorgeous women and had any number of them. I’m not so certain I can measure up. I’m not exactly experienced.”

  He sat back in his chair and studied her face. She was nervous about having sex with him and yet she’d still dressed the way he’d asked and when he’d made a very sexual demand of her, one most women might hesitate to do, she had been courageous enough to do it. She had really given thought to his deliberate mention of whips in the bedroom, and then put trust in him. He wanted to frame her beautiful face between his palms and kiss her senseless as a reward.

  “You’re so naturally sensual, bella, you never have to worry about inexperience. Haven’t you heard the things I’m telling you about me? I wan
t things my way in the bedroom. That means inexperience on your part is a plus. It allows me to teach you what I like and want. I can promise you that at the end of the day, I can give you everything you could ever want.”

  She rubbed at the sling holding her arm, something she did when she was growing tired of the weight on her sore shoulder.

  “Do you want dessert? Merry made her famous raspberry-lemon tart just for you.” He was tempting her on purpose, even though she was growing tired. He wanted her to get stronger and heal faster. The doctor had said she would need additional calories in order to not lose any more weight with the rigorous demands of physical therapy.

  She nodded. “And coffee?”

  He shook his head. “That would keep you up all night. You need to sleep.”

  She ducked her head. “I haven’t slept much since I asked you not to stay in my room.”

  He waited, deliberately not answering her. He had known she wasn’t sleeping. Even the doctor had commented on it, worried that she was wearing herself out. There was a short silence and finally she lifted her head.

  “Why didn’t you tell me?” He kept his voice pitched low, conveying his disappointment in her. “Your health is paramount, Grace. You know that.”

  “Yes, I know, I’m sorry. I was very confused about what your mother meant when she said I met some criteria that you needed for a partner. I was hurt,” she admitted.

  “I’m sorry that hurt you, but you should have told me you needed me in your room to sleep.” He collected her plates and put them in a small bin Merry had given him for the dishes. She had eaten little of the salad, but half of the tostada. “Just so you know, the criteria my mother referred to don’t hold a candle to all the requirements I just laid out for you. As for being faithful, I’ve told you, that is something that is part of my code I live by. I would never take a vow with a woman and break it. Tell me what else you need to make you happy.”