“What would you prefer?” Rocco cocked his head to the side.
“A fight.”
Rocco smirked. “You are quite barbaric. An asset. We do not call to arms any longer, unless forced, of course. It is against the rules, unless we go through the proper channels. A race. This is honorable.”
“It’ll do. Name your wager.”
“Ah.” Rocco’s smile was wide, almost taunting. His eyes danced almost dreamily with the thought. “One night with your wife.”
“Wha—” I began, about to jump off my stool, but Rosaria held me in place, shaking her head, though her eyes never left the two brothers.
Brando kept his stare firm. He shrugged, and something flickered in the depths of Rocco’s eyes. He knew the gesture. “Tell me what you would do with my wife.”
He can’t be seriously considering this!
Rocco turned his head toward me a fraction, licked his lips, their perfect shape glistening with the trail of his tongue, and then turned back to Brando. “She will dance for me. Then I will make love to her. For hours.” He turned to me again. “I will not hurt you,bella. Unless, of course, you desire it.”
I turned to Rosaria and whispered, “I’m sorry.”
She shrugged. “We have an agreement. He is pickier than me, but we do indulge in other lovers from time to time. This does not bother me. At the end of the day, I call him husband, he calls me wife, and we make our bed.”
Who was I to judge? Understanding their marriage, though, and comparing it to my own, I was suddenly very, very thankful. And the thought of those hands coming around my throat in passion, or in anger, seemed like a nightmare. I placed a hand to my throat, reminding myself that I was free.
The sound of two boulders colliding, the grunt of the force both expelled in growls, made all of the blood rush to my feet. In a move so swift that it seemed unreal, Brando had removed the knife from his back, pinning Rocco against the wall, steel to his throat.
“Br—”
Rosaria stopped me again. She took my hand, forcing me to sit back down. She put her mouth to my ear. “This is no pissing contest!” she hissed. “Your husband has to defend your honor. He has to claim you or someone else will. My husband is attempting to do so. You fell into step with him without fear. He is attracted to that. I have never seen anyone stand up to him the way you did, and for him to resign himself to the treatment. He is not a man accustomed to that behavior.”
“I don’t understand.”
She gave me a pitiful look. “Your beast does. He will explain.”
Brando spoke in Italian again, his words almost whispered, coming out in a hiss of breath. The brothers’ eyes connected, and it was intense. Apart from the love I felt between my husband and I, this was the second most intense feeling I had ever experienced.
A droplet of blood blossomed from Rocco’s throat, turning into a thin river that ran underneath the knife, streaming down his chest, his expensive white button-down shirt absorbing the flow.
“Rosaria!” Her name came out in a whispered panic.
“Aspettare!”Wait! she ordered. “Your beast is telling mine that he will kill him if he ever comes near you again without his permission. His word is as good ashisblood. You are his blood and bone. He will spill his own brother’s blood, and any other, that dares to come between him and his wife.” She smiled at me. “He really is romantic. And as viscous as they are.”
Viscous, yes, but I didn’t find anything remotely romantic about any of it. I didn’t like the vacant look in Brando’s eyes. I didn’t like where his mind was and where his soul was prepared to go.
And what had she meant—as vicious as they are?
“Capisci,mio fratello,” Brando said, the last two words stated like an insult rather than a familiar term.
Rocco’s eyes were serious. “If not your wife, name the stake.”
I thought, rather grimly, that any other man would have been trembling as this point, but this situation seemed acceptable to Rocco, expected even. What kind offamilywas this?
“Me,” Brando said, releasing him.
Rocco straightened up, shrugging off the assault. He ran his hands down his shirt, letting the slow drip of blood flow without issue. “Ah, let me guess. Fatherwantsyou.”
“Always has.”
Rocco considered this seriously for a few minutes. Finally, he nodded. “You will do. I am sure of it. Though,” he added, thoughtfully, “I will have to speak to him first.”
