I wanted to slam my fists against his chest, all of my anger contained there. “For all your wisdom,” I seethed, “you're not that smart. When you enter a bargain, it not only binds one but two. You might be mycapo, but I own you, too, don’t I? I’m your territory, so you’remyproperty.”
We were still navigating the real word, the one outside of Rocco’s office filled with terms and legal papers, but we seemed to be circling around something personal I couldn’t figure out.
After a few minutes, he finally spoke. “I didn’t like what I saw. Or what I heard.”
There it was. The eddy that kept sucking us under. He didn’t like seeing Harrison and me together. Why? It made no sense. Capo had me, all of the parts of me he requested at the table. What difference did it make how Harrison felt or what he said to me? They were just words, unless I made them more. Still, it seemed to take a lot to get Capo to admit that.
“All you have to do is say that. Use all the words, Capo. I’ll understand. You don’t have to hurt me to get what you want.”
He watched me for a few intense seconds, and then he nodded once. “Concordato.”But his look didn’t cool. It turned into something else, and the maddening desire in me responded automatically when he did something with his hips, pressing even harder into me, so hard that I sucked in a breath and a noise that I’d never heard before slipped from my lips.
Fucka me,I bet he was going to be good in bed. He wouldn’t only touch me; he’d consume me. Still. There was hesitation. I wasn’t ready to go all the way with him. That severe craving would have to eat at me until every defense had been gnawed away.
Hands on my mouth so I won’t scream. Sweat. From him and me. Fingers. Nasty fingers. Disgusting. Wicked. Kindness. Owing.
Capo stopped touching me, and when I opened my eyes, his were on my face.Seeing right through me.I didn’t flinch from his knowing. I appreciated the fact that he seemed to understand without me having to speak the words again.
Please don’t hurt me.
He released my wrists, taking my hand in his—his hand practically engulfed mine—and started to lead me back toward his car.
The haze slipped a little after he put space between us, and his words from earlier made full entry into my mind.Come tomorrow, you’ll be the only one I’ll be fucking for good. Plans and dates and times can go to hell.
“We’re not supposed to get married until next weekend in New York,” I said, my voice the opposite of my body. Steady. A few seconds went by and he didn’t answer me. “Next weekend,Capo. What happened to next weekend?”
“Too long,” he said. “It’s happening tomorrow. I’ll talk to Rocco in the morning about changing the terms. We’ll get married in the evening.”
“The dress you spent a lot of money on! It won’t be ready.”
“Have Giada call the designer. Tell them I’ll pay triple to have it finished. If not, wearpaperjeans.”
With that settled, I’d be a married woman the next day.Monday.Who gets married on a Monday? That thought flew right out of my head when the next one kicked it out.
I’d be married to Capo Macchiavello in less than twenty-four hours. A force of a man who had me right where he wanted me, locked down in his field for the rest of my life.
11
Capo
The air in City Hall was cool. It smelled of old papers, my cologne, and something that smelled a lot like love and loyalty, and if I was taking Mariposa’s ridiculous song into consideration, friendship. Three different reasons for a man to be standing in the same spot I was, waiting on a woman to commit her life to him.
I looked at Rocco and narrowed my eyes. He had a cat-that-ate-the-canary grin on his face. He was all too curious as to why I was taking my bride today, and not on the original date planned.
Fuck dates.
It was a done deal; there was no reason to wait. The wedding in Italy needed time. Things had to be planned; it had to be meaningful for my grandfather. He deserved to see his grandson married. It was one of his worries. It should be put to rest before he left this world.
However, there was no reason this wedding had to be postponed until later. Another day, another time, were unpredictable. And when I wanted something, I made it happen.
I wanted Mariposa as my wife today.
I lifted my arm, the sleeve of my suit pushing back, and checked my watch. She was running late.Three minutes.
“Guido said ten minutes,” Rocco said. He and his wife, Rosaria, were standing as witnesses. She sat next to him, rolling her bracelet around her wrist, watching me.
I met his eyes, not one to prolong the inevitable. His smirk was starting to irk me. “Parla.”Speak.
Rocco rolled his shoulders, getting more comfortable in his suit. “I did not expect this,” he said in Italian.
