We were both sore as hell. But fuck me, how could I pass up a chance to drown in her.
I stepped out of Amalia’s ensuite, towel-drying my hair from a shower and fully expecting her to be already dressed since she’d gone in before me. But there were no signs of my girl. Tossing the towel on the bed and foregoing a shirt, I crossed into the living area and searched around the condo for her. Nothing. A surge of panic rose in my chest, but before I let my imagination get the best of me, I checked one last room at the end of a long corridor. The black wooden door was slightly ajar, and I pushed it open.
My heart thundered for entirely different reasons. I had probably seen and tasted every gorgeous inch of this woman. Still, something about her sitting behind her easel, paintbrush in hand, a sheer shirt covering nothing but her elbows as it had fallen to the crook of her forearms, made the moment nearly magical.
“Your breakfast is on the table.”
“I’m looking at my breakfast.”
“Kai, I love you, but…” Her eyes widened in panic, but my chest warmed. “It’s just a saying…I didn’t—”
“Didn’t mean it?” I asked with a smile, moving toward her as those three words echoed in my mind.
“Of course. You know that you and I—”
I reached down a hand on either side of her torso and lifted her before slipping into the seat and setting her down over my lap. “Are just temporary?”
“No,” she said, so matter-of-fact that I snapped my eyes to hers, waiting, my heart pounding harder. “That you and I are so good together. And maybe someday we could get there.”
Nothing else needed to be said, and I watched as she continued painting. It was a portrait of a young child with a toothless grin and dimples on each side.
“Valentina,” I said. It was a statement, not a question. Her eyes were unmistakable, even in this older version of my niece. Amalia nodded. “It’s beautiful. Your talent is amazing.”
“I’m a woman of many trades.”
“Indeed.”
She snickered.
“Eva would love to see it.”
“There’s something about that little girl. A beautiful soul despite her…” She hesitated.
“Since when do you bite your tongue for anyone?” I said with a laugh. “Say it. Despite a father like Derek?”
“Nail on the head, Cain.”
“Well, she has Eva. And Derek’s not so bad,” I joked.
She was quiet and focused on her art. “My mom is convinced she’ll never have grandbabies. Not any time soon anyway.”
The thought of Amalia carrying my child made my stomach fucking fluttery.
Fuck. I was the one down bad.
“Someday?” I asked, and her hand froze mid-stroke.
“Someday.”
I kissed her shoulder and inhaled the fresh scent of something sweet on her skin.
“What happens today?
“We have to get back home. Face my father. And fix this mess I caused by killing Rojas.”
“He deserved it.”
“Of course he did. But dead men don’t speak, Kai. And we’re not any closer to figuring out who the rat is or what this person or persons want from me besides having me killed.” I knew of her suspicions where Rocco was concerned, and I could only assume her hesitation in taking his head was because he was a family friend and didn’t have the evidence to prove his involvement. But he was no one to me, and if Rocco Solis ended up hanging from a bridge, innocent or guilty, the world would be better for it.
