Brando Piero Fausti was Italian; he wore his heart on his sleeve after he found it. He was also a Fausti, so his blood demanded that he guard it with armor.
I had slipped past that armor long ago. Most people would assume once cleared, easier times would come. Slipping past had been the easiest for me—in fact, if asked how, I had no one, true answer. Speculation was all I had.
Making him comfortable with my place in his dark kingdom, though, had proved to be the toughest battle.
The connection between Mia and Saverio had worn my beast down.
The reality that his daughter could have the peculiar gift her mamma had never occurred to him. Or more specifically, that it could cause her to experience the connection that we shared.
It was a life-altering moment in time when our daughter’s life became fused to another—Saverio Macchiavello.
My husband had expected to have more time to prepare for Mia to find a connection like ours, or not to at all. He had expected to run them all off with his reputation alone, and when he wasn’t around, her brothers would.
He didn’t expect fate to pull a fast one on him.
Fate had put Saverio in his home, as a guard, one who slipped right through his well-crafted gates. Maybe to even prove that he was worthy of Brando Piero Fausti’s precious daughter.
Just another reminder that my husband was human, and being human means that we sometimes bleed for the things we love the most.
If he wanted to look on the bright side, Mia was not like me in a lot of ways. Meaning, where I cherished the connection, she seemed to resent it. Which in turn made her scowl at Saverio daily.
She was young, too, so whatever was going happen, it would happen years from then. She had so much growing left to do, and she wouldn’t make it easy on Saverio. He seemed to know this; in return, he scowled back at her.
It was like watching a doe stick her tongue out at a cat. A cat that had somehow fallen madly in love with one of the most innocent creatures.
Opposites attract and all of that.
None of this made my husband feel better, though. He had struggled when she’d said her first word, took her first steps, cut her first tooth, ate solid foods, first learned how to ride a bike with his help… Firsts meant growing, and growing meant someday leaving him.
Waiting in the shadows stood another great beast, one ready to take her hand and protect her for the rest of her life. To die for her even.
Slipping my arm around my husband’s shoulders, I took the picture from his hand, gazing at it. A black and white he took of me while I was pregnant with Mia. So close to my due date, I was as plump as ripe fruit. Against the open doors that led out to our patio in Tuscany, I stood naked, basking in the sun, hand on my stomach.
“One of my favorites,” I whispered, leaning in to kiss his neck. Then I kissed a trail up to his ear. “How much longer are you going to make me wait, ah?”
He pulled my hand to his mouth, kissing my wedding band. “Almost time.”
As much as I had asked him about the mystery woman in Italy, he continually told me towait. I asked for a specific date, and he gave me one. Our anniversary. December Eleventh. When I asked him to give me a hint, he said,she didn’t come cheap.The glass that whizzed by his head at his lame “joke” told him how funny I thought it was. He got the message and told me to have patience.
When he complained aboutwhythis had to happen to him—Mia and Saverio—I asked him if he wanted grandchildren someday. The look he gave me might have been worse than the glass.
We were even.
Today was our anniversary, and I refused to allow him to wallow any longer. Our children were healthy, growing, and, most of all, happy. He was going to miss out onthenif he didn’t start moving past what was going to happen in the future.
It was nearing dark, and if he didn’t show me soon, the ants in my pants were going to eat me alive.
Taking a deep breath, he released it in a rush and turned to face me. He really looked at me, and when Brando Fausti really saw, it made me shiver.
“Do you like it? I wanted to wear something special.”
He put his hands on my hips, pulling me forward. He kissed me until I was breathless. “Layers, Ballerina Girl. Your body is the most beautiful thing I could see.”
“Yes, but—” I inhaled the air he had stolen. “For now? I can’t go outside without clothes.”
“You can try it but be prepared to fight.”
I smiled.
