Revenge (24 page)

Kate woke up in her lounge chair; from the
position of the sun, it was now late afternoon. She looked over at
Enrico, reading in his chair. He’d obviously been moving the
umbrella around to keep her shaded as the sun crossed the sky.

She could almost still feel his hands on her
body. She’d nearly said no to the sunscreen, but the hopeful look
on his face had made her change her mind.

Fortunately
. Warmth filled her chest.
When he’d stopped and asked if she wanted to do the rest—it was a
small thing, but it was everything. Because he’d asked. Because he
always would.

Though he had pushed her to accept his touch
again. Once his hands were on her, they raised a hunger for him,
for more. A hunger she wasn’t ready for. She hadn’t wanted the
massage to turn to sex, but she hadn’t wanted it to end either.

The cordless phone on the table between them
rang. Enrico picked it up, spoke briefly, then seeing she was
awake, handed it to her. “It is for you.”

She took the phone. “Who is this?”

The man introduced himself, but she didn’t
register the name because of what he said next. “I am the director
of the city morgue.”

“Oh.” Her stomach flipped, and she pressed a
hand into her abdomen. She forced her voice to stay neutral. “I
suppose you’re calling about my husband.”

“Yes. His uncle is here. He is insisting on
taking the body.”

“He can have it.” She didn’t suffer a
second’s debate.

She heard a hand slide over the receiver and
a muffled discussion. Then a new voice came on the line. “I am glad
you are seeing reason,
mia cara.
”

As she recognized Carlo’s cool, dry voice,
her heart sped up. “I want nothing further to do with Vince. He’s
all yours.”

“You
are
Lucchesi’s whore then. I had
wondered if my nephew was being hasty.”

Every inch of her skin blazed white-hot. “He
was. I was never unfaithful to him, until
after
he accused
me of it. And I am no one’s whore.”

“That is between you and God.”

“You have a lot of nerve, Carlo, invoking God
with me. You of
all
people.” Enrico motioned for the phone,
his face angry, but she shook her head. The last thing she wanted
was Carlo thinking he’d cowed her.

He chuckled. “Such fire,
signora
. Or
should I say
signorina
, now that you are without a
husband?”

His tone was almost flirtatious. “You don’t
seem all that angry with me. I thought you’d want me dead.”

“Oh, I assure you, I do want that… and more.
Beforehand of course. I have no interest in a cold body.” An icy
wash of fear coursed through her as his hints hit home. “However, I
have read the police report and have seen the photos of what my
nephew did to you, and I disapprove.” Kate shuddered.
Carlo—
Carlo
!—had seen those pictures. “Such lovely…
flesh
should not be marked so.” His voice lingered obscenely
on “flesh,” the sound conjuring disturbing images of Vince’s
attack, images she did not want to visit, but could not stop
seeing.

Her hand went numb from gripping the phone
too hard. “You son of a bitch,” she finally whispered.

Carlo tsked at her. “Such language. You
Americans can be so crude.”

“You called me a whore.”

Carlo laughed. “So I did.” He paused for a
second, and when he spoke again, his voice was harder. “But you
earned that.”

“Didn’t you?” She fought to keep her voice
from trembling with anger.

“What lies has Lucchesi been filling your
head with?”

“You killed his mother, his brothers.”

“Not that I am admitting anything, but did he
tell you
why
I might have done such a thing?”

She frowned. “A business dispute.”

Carlo barked with laughter. “He would put it
that way.” He paused. “His father kidnapped my son.”

“What?” She laughed in surprise. “That’s
preposterous.”

“Ask him.”

“No. This conversation is over.”

“If you say so. But do ask him,
signorina
. And watch him closely when you do.”

The phone clicked in her ear, the line going
dead. Kate stared at the phone for a few seconds, then absently
placed it on the table.

“You are shaking,” Enrico said. “Did he
threaten you?”

“Sort of. Not really.”

Enrico took her hands in both of his. “Then
what has you so upset?”

“He saw…” Her voice trembled, broke. She took
a deep breath. “He saw the police report. The photos of me.”

He winced. “I am sorry.”

She shook her head. “It’s not that he saw
them. It was his reaction.”

“What do you mean?”

“He wants me.” She looked away from Enrico.
“I think he always has.”

“I will not let him touch you.”

She closed her eyes and shivered, picturing
Carlo’s avid eyes tracking her when she was with Vince. “He never
said anything directly. But now I know for sure.”

“You were his nephew’s wife.”

“And now I’m not.” She was quiet for a
moment. “I never realized being with Vince protected me from
him.”

“I will protect you.”

She turned angry eyes on him. “Will you?”

Enrico swallowed down his natural response.
He deserved her scorn. “I swear it.”

“The only way you can protect me is if you
know who’s betrayed you.”

He hoped he was right about Trucco. “Ruggero
is working on it.”

“Can you trust him?”

“With my life.”

“I trust Antonio.”

“So do I.” Jealousy jabbed a knife in him,
hard. So she trusted Antonio, but not him. And if she knew how he’d
lied to her…. He squeezed her hand, looking into her eyes.

After a moment, she returned the squeeze,
exhaling slowly. “I’m sorry.”

“Why?”

“For blaming you. If it’s anyone’s fault,
it’s mine.”

He shook his head. “This whole… mess has been
going on for a long time. You just got caught in the middle.”

“Carlo said something strange.”

“What?” Her tone raised the hair on the back
of his neck.

“He said your father kidnapped his son. That
that was why he killed your mother and brothers.”

Enrico sucked in a breath, trying not to show
how rattled he was. What could he say?

When he didn’t immediately answer, she
continued. “I told him that was preposterous.” She hesitated,
studying his face. “Isn’t it?”

He looked down at their feet for a second,
then up at her. “I wish it was.”

“How can this be? Unless—”

“Unless my father was in the Mafia? That is
what you were going to say, yes?”

She nodded, holding his eyes.

Tell her. Tell her now
. He searched
her face, saw the dread in her eyes.
Not yet.
“He did
arrange to have Dario kidnapped. My father had contacts—Carlo’s
enemies—and they helped. You know the saying, ‘The enemy of my
enemy is my friend’?” She nodded. “My father very much believed
that. But it was a mistake.”

“What happened?”

“They took him too seriously, or maybe they
just hated Carlo too much. They cut off one of Dario’s fingers and
sent it to Carlo.” Enrico damned himself for the lie. It had been
his father who had done the cutting. If only he could tell her the
truth about the situation. The whole truth.

Kate gasped. “That’s horrible.”

“Carlo thought Dario was dead. That is why he
ordered the attack on my family.” He hated making Carlo look
reasonable, but saying anything else would make her suspicious.

“How do you live like this?”

He shrugged. “You get used to it.”

“I never want to get used to this. I just
want my life back.” Kate withdrew her hand from his and hugged
herself.

An ache started deep in his chest. How would
she ever accept him, and the
malavita
?

He needed some advice, and there was only one
person he wanted to consult. He leaned toward her. “We need to get
away from all this for a few days.”

“How?”

“We could go to Capri and get you a new
wardrobe.”

Her lips curved into a smile. “I’ve always
wanted to go there. It looks so pretty in the pictures I’ve
seen.”

“It is.” He hesitated. “And there is someone
I want you to meet.”

“Who?”

“My godfather, Vittorio Battista. Aside from
Dom and my father, he is all the family I have left.”

“But he’s not related by blood?”

Enrico shook his head. “It does not matter.
He is like my own father.” He couldn’t explain it, not yet. But
Vittorio was more than just a godfather. He was Enrico’s
compare
, his co-father. He’d taken the vow of
comparaggio
in front of the
cosca
when Enrico was
born. He’d sworn that he would watch over Enrico, that he would
never betray him. That he would regard him as a son. As his own
blood.

She looked up at the house. “It’s a shame you
have no family living with you. You strike me as being rather
lonely.”

His throat constricted. How she cut right
through him. “I am surrounded by people.”

“Employees. Not family. Not friends.” She
paused. “Do you even have any friends?”

“Dom.”

“Your cousin. Anyone you’re not related to,
that you’re not in business with?”

He shook his head.

“That’s not healthy.”

His position, his business, made it
impossible to have friends other than family. Family was all he
had, and very little of that left now. His skin burned under the
pity in her gaze. He’d never chosen this life. It had been forced
upon him. It and all the consequences—no friends, a dead family, a
target on his back, no respite, no rest, only constant vigilance.
When was the last time he hadn’t felt exhausted? He rubbed his
hands over his face.

“I’m sorry. It’s none of my business.”

Anger flashed through him. He just wanted to
be honest with her for once. But he couldn’t. “I do not need your
pity.” He jumped from the chair and strode to the house, his feet
carrying him without conscious thought. He’d wanted her, and even
though he’d had her, he was no closer to what he really wanted. He
was well past mere lust. He wanted her to be his. Maybe even,
someday, his wife. He wanted her to understand, and accept, him.
Him and the
malavita
. And that was never going to happen.
Hell, he probably couldn’t even make her his mistress, much less
his wife. No, he had to marry Delfina fucking Andretti.

Her feet slapped on the flagstones as she ran
up to him. She grabbed his arm outside the French doors that led
inside. “Forgive me,” she said. “I’m upset and frustrated and still
more than a little drunk, and I’m taking everything out on
you.”

“That makes two of us.”

“I really don’t want to fight.”

He smirked. “That seems to be all you have
wanted to do since you came here.”

She looked at the stones beneath their feet.
“I’m scared. I don’t handle it well.”

He took a breath, then blew it out. He could
be honest with her on this point. “I am scared too. I want so much
from you, and I am afraid I cannot have it.”

Kate’s stomach filled with a hard lump of
shame. She had no intention of staying. She had no intention of
letting him break her heart when he realized she was no substitute
for Antonella. “I’m sorry.”

He put a finger on her lips. “Stop
apologizing.”

“I should say the same to you.”

His expression was grave. “I am not sure how
I can ever make amends for failing to protect you. But I want to
try. Will you let me?”

She made her tone teasing when she answered.
“As long as it involves a trip to Capri.”

He smiled. “You will love it. It is one of my
favorite places on earth.”

Rising on tiptoe, she kissed his cheek. Going
on this trip was probably not the best idea. But she was loath to
leave his side. Not with Carlo out there, thinking about her.
Making his plans. Dreaming his obscene dreams.

Better to choose the lesser of two evils. She
looked at Enrico, the tenderness in his gaze squeezing her heart.
She didn’t want to think of him that way, but he had just as much
potential to hurt her as Carlo. The difference was, Enrico wouldn’t
enjoy it.

But he would hurt her just the same.

Ever since he’d massaged her by the pool the
day before, Enrico hadn’t been able to stop fantasizing about Kate.
The memory of touching her hit him hard that evening as he was
lathering up in the shower. He’d put himself through a grueling
workout, but it hadn’t helped.

He ran the bar of soap over his arms, unable
to stop picturing her there with him. He wanted
her
hands
touching him, not his own. When he’d rubbed the sunscreen on her,
she was all softness, all curves, her body pliable, yielding. He
closed his eyes. His hands kneaded her thighs, his eyes glued to
the fleshy mound of her sex. He cupped it with his hand, then
pushed the thin fabric aside, his fingers parting the lips of her
slick little
figa
, his mouth on her high ripe breasts, her
hard nipples rolling under his tongue. Her lush body beneath his,
opening up to him.

He soaped up his cock, the length going rigid
as he imagined her mouth on him, his cock moving in and out between
her ripe lips, the little moans in her throat as she swallowed him
down, her tongue swirling over the head, again and again, driving
him mad.

Now he was taking her on her hands and knees,
thrusting into her from behind. She was so tight, gripping him like
a glove, and he was fucking her like it was the last thing he was
going to do on this earth. His hand slid up and down in a desperate
rhythm.
Cristo
. Her ass jiggled as she pressed back into
him, as his hips slapped against hers, her moans deepening as he
slammed his cock into her.

He came with a groan, his heart pounding, his
breathing ragged, momentarily spent as he leaned against the creamy
white marble wall of the shower.
Dio
, he’d fantasized about
her before, but it had never been that good. Now that he knew what
she felt like, what she tasted like.... He took a deep breath. He
couldn’t spend all day in the shower. And he couldn’t make love to
Kate right now. Maybe not for quite a while, maybe not ever again.
His chest ached.