They stopped at an Italian restaurant in Pismo Beach on the way back to Santa Barbara. It was late for lunch, but Elena was hungry again—Santo, too, as he hadn’t eaten since early morning.
The antipasto came first, and she munched on the marinated peppers and some of the olives, leaving Santo the various meats and cheeses. Pizza romana was the main course, and the smell alone made her mouth water. So simple and yet so delicious. After that, they shared a tiramisu for dessert, one of her favorites. She’d planned to stop eating after two bites, but Santo had tempted her with several more.
There was something mesmerizing about looking into a man’s face as he fed you a little piece of Heaven. It made Elena think of long nights loving each other, and by the glitter in Santo’s eyes, it was obvious he thought the same—especially when he leaned over and licked a dab of cream from her lips.
On the drive back to Santa Barbara, traffic was heavy. They talked about inconsequential things for a while before Santo pushed a button on the consul and an old-time jazz singer crooned from the speakers—nothing too loud or jarring—and Elena drifted off to sleep.
She woke when he lifted her from the car as if she weighed less than a feather, strode with her past the fountain in the courtyard, and toward his home. It was the second time he’d carried her that day—something she could get used to.
Raising her head from his shoulder, she opened her mouth to tell him she could walk, but the words wouldn’t come. The caring gesture made her feel cherished and safe and she wanted to hold onto that for a while.
The sun had just set and the sky was a brilliant orangey-pink—a beautiful backdrop for the home’s pale terracotta walls. It was dark the last time he’d brought her here and the exterior lights hadn’t shown the exquisite detail of the façade: the fluted Corinthian columns, the arched doorway and windows, the wrought iron railings around balconies supported by carved, stone corbels.
The home had been recently restored to look like an Italian villa, built on a cliff over the ocean with a trail leading down to a private beach restricted to residents. It wasn’t as vast as the Berrucci estate where she’d grown up, but it was a mansion compared to her large, two bedroom apartment in New York.
The perfect size for a family, she thought, making her heart skip a beat.
“You can put me down,” she said, as he stepped over the threshold.
He touched his lips to her forehead and crossed the marble floor to the curved staircase. “I like carrying you.”
So did she. Too much
The décor of his home was simple yet ornate. Simple in that it wasn’t overcrowded with furniture and knick knacks, but the details he had indulged in were almost decadent. The walls were cream-colored and the floor beyond the foyer a rich, gleaming oak. Above the entrance hung a grand, crystal chandelier and to the left was a sunken living room with a central fireplace surrounded by pristine, white couches.
When he ascended the stairs, she noticed the banister was made of marble with a gold hand rail on top.
Stunning.
She’d missed the sumptuous details the last time she’d been here. They’d been in a sexual frenzy on the way to his bedroom, and she’d only had eyes for him. After he’d fallen asleep, she’d crept out in the dark like a thief…their child conceived in her womb.
Their first child, according to him.
The thought made her shiver.
The hallway at the top of the stairs was wide with decorative half columns that held sculptures and vases spaced evenly along the curved wall. Worth a fortune, she was sure. Unless he’d done as he’d counseled Lorenzo and had fakes made before putting the real ones in a vault.
She recognized his bedroom at the far end. “Are you hoping to get lucky? Because I have to tell you, I’m pretty easy.”
He snorted. “Always. And you are not easy, Kitten. Anything but.” His hands squeezed her body where they held her. “I was bringing you up to finish your nap. You’ve had a difficult day.”
“Anytime my parents are involved, it’s difficult.”
God, wasn’t that the truth. The fresh air and nap had done her wonders, however, and she felt lighter than she had in ages. She snuck a glance at Santo and wondered how much of that freedom had to do with him. Sarika would probably say a lot, but Elena wasn’t so sure. He may have defended her against her parents, but he couldn’t wipe away years of childhood angst and trauma.
That had to come from deep inside herself.
But it sure had been nice to have someone in her corner.
As they stepped into the bedroom, she grabbed the doorframe with her hand. “Put me down, please.”
He did, reluctantly. “Aren’t you sleepy?”
“Not anymore.” Slipping off her sandy shoes, she placed them on the hardwood floor rather than dirtying the blue and green Turkish rug that lay over it. The drapes were the same midnight blue as the quilt, and his furniture a dark cherry wood. Touches of green splashed in the artwork and the pillows on the quilt. A striking combination.
Aware of his eyes scorching a fiery trail down her spine and settling on her hips, she put an extra sway in her walk as she sauntered past the bed to the French windows that overlooked the garden.
Grasping the edge of the heavy drapes, she drew them across the panes of glass, then caught Santo’s gaze. “It’s dark. You wouldn’t want anyone to see me naked, would you?”
He stepped further into the room and shut the door. “Not unless it’s me.”
“Well then, I guess you’re getting lucky after all.”
She dropped her shawl onto a cream-colored leather ottoman in front of a matching chair and moved toward the bathroom. His eyes followed her every step and darkened as she released the buttons on her jacket and tossed it onto the bed, revealing a black, lace bra. Her breasts swelled beneath the material.
When she reached the bathroom, she shot him a look, unhooked her bra, and hung it on the doorknob as she walked through.
The bathroom was large and predominantly white with gold swirls in the huge marble tub and vanity. The fixtures and accessories were gold plated, the towels and mats fluffy white cotton.
Unzipping her pants, she dropped them to the floor and bent over to peel down her nude stockings, leaving her in a black lace G-string and nothing else.
“Beautiful,” Santo said reverently from the door.
She rose slowly, her back arched, and turned to him, her hands covering her bare breasts. Then she released them, raised her fingers to the clip in her hair and freed it to tumble over her shoulders and down her back.
Santo strode toward her, eyes bright as they traveled from her hips, to her breasts, to her face, then back again. She tossed the clip onto the vanity before stopping him with a hand on his chest. “Can you run me a bath, please?”
His hands fisted before he spun to the tub and turned on the water, testing it to make sure it was the perfect temperature before closing the drain. His care for her comfort caused heat to bloom around her heart, and she moved up behind him.
He’d shed his shoes and jacket in the bedroom, revealing a periwinkle blue silk shirt tucked into black pants. Running her hands along his spine as he bent over, she tugged the shirt loose and pushed it to his shoulders. He grabbed it as he turned to her and yanked it over his head. A button popped loose and flew onto the marble.
Her eyes feasted on his chest. Hard, muscled, and covered with crisp dark hair. She dug her fingers in and dragged them over his nipples. He groaned as he pulled her tight into his body.
“Do you have any bubble bath?” she asked.
“I have no idea. I’ve never used the tub before.”
“Never? Not even with…someone else?”
“No. There’s been no one but you, Elena, since the day I ran into you at Sarika’s apartment in New York. I moved into the house shortly after.”
Her breath caught at his admission. “But that was more than two years ago.”
“I know. You have no idea how difficult it was to send you away when you snuck into my bedroom the night before Rafe and Sarika’s wedding. It just about killed me.”
She wiggled closer, hands dropping to his belt and loosening it. She loved the way his eyes sparked and his pelvis rocked against her—hot and hard. “You were far from dead the next day. All I had to do was look at you the right way, and you came trotting after me for a romp in the pool house.”
“Believe me, anyway you looked at me would’ve been the right way.” He kissed her brow then the tip of her nose. “You know I’d follow you anywhere if it meant having you with me.” His hands slipped over the curves of her bare bottom and squeezed as he lowered his lips to her neck. “And for the chance of getting some of this, of course.”
She giggled, her heart so full it felt like it might burst. Maybe this was what it felt like to know you belonged with someone. Like you’d finally come home.
Raising her hands to his head, she pulled him down for a kiss. Their lips met in a shower of sparks. Excited and driven, but also gentle and tender.
She didn’t know where the softer emotions came from. She’d worked hard to squash that side of herself long ago.
But this time she couldn’t stop the feelings. Didn’t want to stop them.
Closing her eyes, she tilted her head back and gloried in the feel of him kissing down her throat as if she were the most precious woman on earth.
He skimmed a hand over her hip, into the dip at her waist, and up to her breast. Cupping it gently, he rubbed his thumb over the tip, making her gasp.
“Does that hurt?” he asked.
“No. It feels good. Really good. They’re more sensitive than usual. Just don’t press too hard.”
“What about this?” He squeezed her distended nipple and in answer she groaned and hooked her leg around his thigh to grind against him.
“Lift me up,” she demanded breathlessly.
He did, one hand beneath the curve of her bottom, the other still playing with her breast. Frissons of heat and excitement shot down her stomach to her groin. She circled his waist with both legs, and rocked against the hard ridge of his erection.
His hand pressed her into him to stop the motion. “Elena, it’s been over a month since we’ve been together. I don’t know if I can do this slow, especially when you move like that.”
She nipped his chin. “We can do slow after. Now I just need you inside me.”
He swooped down to take her mouth, invading her, dominating her lips and tongue. When he retreated, she followed and nuzzled along his jaw to his ear, drawing the lobe into her mouth.
His hands gripped and squeezed her flesh, running up her back and into her hair, then down to knead the softer curves of her backside and thighs.
She was vaguely aware they moved before cool marble pressed against her bottom and he sat her on the edge of the counter. She felt a tug at her hip as he ripped away her black panties. Then his fingers found her, stroking up and down—the hot flesh slick and swollen. He rubbed, circled, rubbed again, sending her spiraling out of control.
A whimper escaped her throat, and she dug her heels into his backside, pulling her knees open and lifting her hips toward him.
“That’s it. Come for me, Kitten.”
“Not without you. Damn it, Santo. Now!”
The sound of his belt jiggling and zipper lowering almost sent her over the edge in anticipation. Then he was there, blunt and rigid, pushing at her entrance. He dropped his head to her breast and sucked hard on her nipple as he drove inside.
She came apart, muscles squeezing rhythmically around him as she screamed her release. He didn’t let it end, starting a pounding rhythm that pushed her further, higher. One hand tilted her pelvis for a better angle and the other pushed into her hair to hold her still for another kiss.
She was surrounded by him. Impaled by him. Every sense inflamed by him.
The hair on his chest teased her nipples; the hair on his legs rough against the inside of her thighs. At the back of his neck, her fingertips slipped through soft curls. Gripping firmly, she held on as he consumed her.
His thrusts were longer and harder now, and he loomed over her, holding her on an incline. He broke off the kiss with a groan and squeezed her tighter, hitting a spot deep inside that made her gasp. His breath grew ragged in her ear, matching her own. A wild keening broke from her throat as his rhythm fractured, became rough and wild.
Her climax hit hard and she arched backward, clamping down on him again and again as lights burst behind her closed eyelids. He shouted her name and jerked within her as he released, his fingers digging into the flesh of her backside and the strands of her hair; his mouth open and hot on her neck.
They shuddered against one another, panting and sweating, slowly coming back to earth.
No longer able to hold on, her legs fell away from his hips as he dropped onto one elbow.
After a long moment, he lifted his head and looked into her eyes. “Did I hurt you?”
She huffed out a breath. “No, but I will never be the same again.” Two orgasms of that magnitude were sure to sideline her for a week. She was utterly drained. Now would be a good time for—
“The tub!” She struggled to sit up and saw that the water had stopped on its own.
“There’s a sensor,” he said, kissing her lips then withdrawing from her body. The action made her shiver, and the air gushed from her lungs. He smiled and trailed a hand down to rest on her trembling thigh. “That good, huh?”
“Mmmm. Wanna go again?”
“I would if I could.”
She reached down and cupped his length. He twitched in her palm, making her smile. “Oh, ye of little faith.”
After another kiss, longer this time, he pulled away from her, kicked his pants to the side, and crouched down to look in the cupboards beneath the sink. She noticed he still wore his black socks and giggled.
“What?” he asked.
“Nothing.”
He pulled a bottle from below and showed it to her. Lavender scented bath oil. “Will this do?”
She unscrewed the lid, and sniffed. Mmmm. Not too heavy on the perfume. “It’s lovely.”
Walking to the tub on wobbly legs, she tested the water to make sure it was still hot, then poured in the oil, recapped it, and placed it on the marble edge. After stepping into the Jacuzzi, she turned to find him watching her, socks off, so tall and heavily muscled, it sent a shaft of need through her belly.
The erotic intensity of his gaze made her feel womanly and sexy. “Can you pass me my hair clip?”
He brought it over and joined her in the bath, hands slipping around her waist. “This could be fun.”
As she secured her hair on top of her head, he sat in the tub and leaned against the molded, reclining wall. The bath was deep and the water splashed at his shoulders. When she finished, he grasped her hips and pulled her onto his lap. She squirmed around until her back rested against his chest.
Bliss.
“Too bad we don’t have any candles,” she said dreamily.
He reached toward a control panel on the wall. After fiddling with it, the lights dimmed and soft music filled the room. Then the water began to bubble.
“How’s that?” he asked.
“Perfect.”
And it was. Everything about it was perfect, especially him. Not that he didn’t drive her crazy sometimes, but in the afterglow of their lovemaking, wrapped in his arms with the warm water fizzing around them, he couldn’t be anything but wonderful.
Her hero.
Other people had said her parents had failed in the child raising department, but never to their faces as she’d watched. And never before had they listened—forced into it by Santo’s powerful presence.
He’d stood with her against them, and when it had turned really bad, he’d shielded her by standing in front of her. Hearing him say the words, shame on you, and knowing that he believed them and was outraged on her behalf had empowered and somehow validated her. She wasn’t crazy or a cry-baby, she had been hurt.
They had hurt her.
Santo had lifted his lance and struck a blow for children everywhere. Then he’d taken her to safety.
She turned on her side and leaned her cheek above the water line on his chest, wrapping her arms around his waist and up along his torso to his shoulders. He linked his fingers across her hip and held her in place.
“Thank you,” she said.
“My pleasure.” He sounded smug, like a man who had just loved his woman into the orgasmic stratosphere.
She smiled and traced a pattern with her fingertip on his arm. “No, I meant thank you for earlier with my parents. But thank you for the sex, too. You outdid yourself.”
He nuzzled the top of her head in front of the clip. “It’s not just me. It’s us. What we have together is unique.”
Uncertainty rose that she could be anything special to him, as well as jealousy at the reminder that he’d had sex with other women. She knew it was unreasonable, but she couldn’t help herself. “And you know this because of your vast sexual experience? Welcome aboard the Santo Sex Express?”
He snagged a finger beneath her chin and lifted her head. His gaze bore into her. “Don’t do that.”
“What?” But she knew exactly what she’d done.
“Lessen what we just shared. Stay with me, sweetheart, I promise I’m not going anywhere.”
Her chin wobbled, and she lowered her eyes, wanting to hide.
“Elena, look at me.”
It was a command—lovingly said, but still a command—and one she couldn’t refuse. She stared into his beautiful brown eyes, so thickly lashed, laugh lines at the corner, so gentle, caring and determined, and a part of her crumbled, causing tears to well and trickle down her cheeks.
“You take everything away and leave me nowhere to hide,” she said.
“Good. You don’t have to conceal anything from me.”
“But what if you don’t like who I really am?”
“I already do. Your softer side comes out all the time—you just don’t realize it. And I like the tough side, too. It protected you for many years. For that, I’m grateful. But you don’t need to protect yourself against me. You can tell me how you feel—show it to me—the good and the bad—and I won’t leave. I may fight with you about it, but I promise you, I’m here to stay.”
“I don’t want to fight.”
“Well, we will.” He nipped her lips. “And that’s all right.”
She leaned her head against his chest. “That’s what Sarika said, too, but I don’t know how to fight without…without…”
“Without what?”
“…ruining everything.”
“Then you’ll have to learn because I won’t let you go.” He raised his knees, so she was surrounded.
Cocooned.
“Elena, I want you to marry me.”
Everything inside her stilled. “For the baby?”
“No. For us. For the life we can build together. Two years ago, when I ran into you again after all those years, I decided it was time to find a wife and build a family. I don’t think that was a coincidence. Maybe I didn’t recognize it then, but something inside of you spoke to me—as it has since we were kids. Obviously my feelings for you have changed over the years, but in some way we’ve always been connected.”
“What if you just want to save me?”
“I’ll always be protective, I can’t change that, but what I feel for you is more than that. Every instinct I have tells me that we should be together. I want us to laugh, make love, and, yes, even argue, knowing that we’re a family. At the end of the day when we crawl into bed, even if we’ve had a fight and we’re mad at each other, we should still know that nothing can break us up.”
“But that’s not true. We can break us up. Break each other.”
He trailed his fingers across her brow and down her cheek. “I won’t ever break you. I promise. It would kill me to see you that way.”
God, could she trust him? Did she want to trust him?
She focused on her fingertips, still doodling on his skin, but on his chest, now, and realized she was tracing a tiny heart. Again and again.
A tiny heart over his big heart.
Her breath caught and she closed her eyes. She tried to calm her panic, her fear; to go below the chaos and doubt where she’d hidden her true desires long ago. Those childhood dreams of a happy family that she thought she’d never have—believed she couldn’t have.
But why not? Just because her parents hadn’t created a loving home, didn’t mean she couldn’t have that with Santo and the baby. Lorenzo had reached out to her, and she was certain he would do the same to her husband and children. Sarika, Rafe, and their children would be family, too. Plus Max, of course, and maybe a dog, later on. She’d always wanted a Golden Retriever.
All of them caring for one another, involved in each other’s lives.
Before she could stop herself, she wrapped her arms around his neck and whispered into his damp skin, “Okay…maybe.”
He stilled, and his hands gripped her body. “Maybe what?”
“Maybe I’ll marry you. Probably. Just…give me a day to think about it.”
As if he doubted her words, he pulled back his head and stared at her. Something in her face must have assured him, for he grinned and kissed her, saying, “I’ll take that as an almost ‘yes’.” Then he kissed her again—the tip of her nose, her eyelids, across her brow and down her cheeks to her chin—before molding her lips. This time delving deep.
Elena opened beneath his onslaught, welcomed him.
One of his arms shifted beneath her knees, and before she knew it, he’d risen to his feet with her still in his arms. She shrieked in surprise, amazed at his strength.
“You won’t be doing that for long,” she said, breathless with excitement and a pounding fear at what she’d practically agreed to.
He strode with her across the marble floor. “Why not?”
“Because I’m going to grow as big as a house, especially if the baby takes after you.” He passed into the bedroom and after several Santo-sized steps, laid her on the quilt. She sighed, knowing their wet bodies were going to soak the bedding.
He sat beside her and leaned down to kiss her belly as he talked to their child. “Listen, son, you are not to grow too big until you come out of your mama.”
“You think it’s going to be a boy?” she asked.
“Daughter, then. It doesn’t matter. Although a boy first would be good to take care of his sisters.”
“Who says they’ll need taking care of.”
“I do.”
He stretched out beside Elena, and his heavy erection pressed against her leg. She looked up and saw the desire in his eyes, making her shiver.
“I thought I wore you out?” she asked, hooking her heel over his hip, so he fit perfectly.
“You did. But saying you’ll probably marry me has rejuvenated things.”
Her hands slipped down, and she trailed her fingers along his shaft. “What kind of things?”
“Those kind of things.” He shifted to give her better access then rubbed his own fingers across her breasts. “Besides, I plan to take this slow. Give myself an hour or so to catch up.”
“An hour? I can’t last an hour.”
“You can, and you will.”
His arrogance astounded and aroused her. Rolling him onto his back, she crawled on top. Like a mountaineer ascending Everest.
“So sure of yourself, aren’t you? Well, let’s just see if you can last two hours.” Then she proceeded to kiss her way down his stomach.