“You know the answer to this, but I’m going to say it any fucking way.” I kissed her finger above her engagement ring. The priceless blood diamond. It wasn’t worth anything to me unless it was on her left hand, left finger. “You are fucking gorgeous, Annie. Even before you got pregnant, you were always glowing. Like soft candlelight exists underneath your skin.”
She glanced down at herself in question, and this time I smoothed the wrinkle from her forehead. Her thick eyebrows were pulled in. Thick but not overdone. Everything about her was perfectly balanced. Her hair reminded me of a cappuccino, which reminded me of Grossetto in the fall. Her skin was still pale, but her coloring seemed to be a mixture of delicate pink and soothing olive.
Her hazel eyes danced in the light, and just as it did to her, it enhanced the pinwheel of colors. Her lips were the softpart of her face, balancing out what could have been considered cold. The sharp line of her nose. The high cheekbones that were almost cutting. I ran my fingers over the crease between her eyebrows again. Her eyebrows were a tad bit darker than the shade of her hair.
“You say this even when I am in plain clothes,” she whispered.
“Doesn’t matter what clothes you wear, Annie. I want to tear them off. They block my body from yours.”
She sighed. “I—” She looked away.
I turned her face back to mine. “Tell me.”
A chilled wind blew, and it rustled her hair. I moved the piece away from her eyes, my warm fingers lingering where the cold had touched her skin. Then I reached in my pocket and slipped her sunglasses over her eyes. Even in “ranch” clothes, they somehow worked.
In that moment, I knew the sunglasses were a representation of my wife.
Shecould work anywhere in the world.
She set her hand over my wrist. It was so tiny in comparison. A feeling of protectiveness like I had never known before seemed to rise in me. Just that view—how small her bones were in comparison to mine—made me feel like a man, the lion in my chest roaring, reminding me that, if she was ever in trouble, the man would disappear, and the hunter would rear his head.
“You are trembling,” she whispered. “Are you cold?” She almost looked concerned at that.
“No, Annie,” I breathed out. “I’m not cold. My feelings for you have me in a fucking choke hold.”
“Ah,” she breathed out, holding me tighter, keeping eye contact.
This woman knew. She was my feelings.
She released the pressure and said, “The clothes you wear around the ranch…the white shirt, usually rolled up on the arms, sometimes untucked and hanging from your pants, all your tattoos on display, sweat dripping down your tan skin, combined with the riding pants, the dirty boots…and when you wear the vest…dannazione.”She licked her lips.
Her eyes fluttered when a deep breath left my mouth. “Did you just say I’m your fantasy, Annie? Is that what I heard?”
She backed up, putting her hands up, smiling. “I did!”
I stopped short, and so did she. My hand went over my heart and I pretended to stumble.
“Mariano!” She rushed to me, setting her hands on me, asking in rapid Italian if I was okay.
“Yes,” I forced out, making my voice sound old and feeble. “I will live.”
“You will live?Dio!” She took me by the shoulders, her eyes frantically glancing around for help. “Dr. Musa!” she shouted.
“I will live,” I repeated, “but I cannot believe it has happened.” I took a labored breath.
“What?Whathas happened?”
“You.” I forced the word out. “Have. Admitted that to me!” I couldn’t hold back any longer. I exploded with laughter. “I.” My words were raspy and bumpy. “Can die a happy man!”
All the times she refused to admit how she felt about me. All the fucking spice and sass, even though her eyes were as hungry for me as I was for her. She had been fighting it.
She blinked at me, then she came after me with her slap hand ready. She was beating my ass. When she could not get to my ass, she flicked my ear. I shivered, making the noise to go with, running a hand along my chest. I liked when she beat my ass.
“Do you like that too, my wife?”
“Yes!” She slapped me one last time. “Your ass is like two chestnuts!” She rung her hand out, like my ass was so firm, it was hurting her palm.
“My ass?” I laughed even harder. I never remembered laughing that hard. “What about my balls?”
