Winkelmatten, the quaint homestead where our chalet was, spread out beneath us, as though we were in heaven, and all the tiny lights below were stars hovering close to the grassy knoll the hamlet sat atop.
My husband always brought me to the clouds.
Always.
I kept my eyes closed as he floated me around the pool, steaming rising around us.
He cleared his throat. “In the ninth month, you will appreciate the water and how it will defy gravity for your benefit.”
My eyes blinked open, and he was staring down at me. From the humid feel of the room, perspiration dripped down his face in crystal droplets, turning into ribbons further down his skin. My husband had smooth skin, but not perfect. He had enough scars on him that I could count. Especially where that wretched woman had sliced an X on his chest that almost killed him—she was trying to carve out his heart but didn’t have the courage to.
“Each of your scars are mine, Rocco Fausti,” I whispered, gazing into his sea-green eyes as I used my fingertip to tracethe uneven textures. I did that at times. Healed him this way. Replaced a violent touch with my soft one.
“As healing as the sun, you are to me,” he whispered, his eyes closing some. “In the dead of any winter. I have lived countless lives for you, Amora. I would die countless deaths to keep you. There is no life without my wife.”
I wrapped my arms around his neck, keeping eye contact, until my eyes closed and I placed a soft kiss on his lips. “I knew it,” I breathed out. “I knew you wouldn’t have hurt me.” My bones trembled from the strain of worrying about it all. The only thing left was to prove who the father of her baby was.
“‘A capable, intelligent, and virtuous woman—who is he who can find her? She is far more precious than jewels, and her value is far above rubies or pearls.’My entire being has always agreed about who you are to me. Aria Amora Bella Fausti. My beautiful love song. I would not jeopardize what has always been meant for me. What I stand to lose is vital to me.”
“Amen,” I whispered against his pulse. “Because I refuse to accept anything less.”
“You are priceless to me. Not even entrance into heaven is acceptable unless you are there with me.”
We stared at each other as Rocco swam us around.
“Your words break my heart, Rocco. Those are words a writer would use to paint her book with beautiful prose.”
He bowed his head to me, closing his eyes, kissing my forehead. “My wife,” he whispered. “My life.”
“Forever.”
“Per sempre.”
I cleared my throat. “What will happen now?” I’d made a threat that I wasn’t sure I could go through with. The lying bitch was pregnant. I couldn’t feed her a poisonous dish, knowing she was carrying someone’s child and would be the child’s mother.
However, I wasn’t spewing an empty threat when I’d made it. I knew she was going to be trouble if I didn’t, and not only for me and my husband, but maybe for our child. That wasn’t a threat I could live with.
Just the thought of her hurting my husband or my baby made me feel ferocious. Those feelings would forever come back to me when I thought of the moment she pointed at him and aimed her false accusations at the both of us.
Rocco shrugged. “She will be dealt with. Mac believes whoever the father is has been in on the coup d'état. I thought this as well. The father shall be found and dealt with as well. As of this moment, she is still claiming it is me.”
“Luca wouldn’t doubt Massimo, would he?”
“No,” he answered instantly. “My son is dealing with personal issues, but not once has his word come into question. This is a high offense in our world.”
“A death sentence.”
He nodded seriously.
“Do you believe to lie should be punished by death?”
“It is our way. To lie is to fear. To be a Fausti means we do not fear—who shall we fear on the earth? No man. We are men. Soldiers. Lovers. Knights.” He didn’t answer plainly, but the answer he gave was one that could have been used in a court of law to defend his feelings on the matter. It was said clearly, precisely, but with enough conviction that, to deny him would be to challenge him.
“Basically,” I said, summing it up, “the Fausti men should be considered an endangered species.” I sighed.
I was still getting used to walking the line between the rest of the world and the Fausti family. I didn’t think everyone could walk ir. It was fine. That made me think of Chloe.
I dipped my hand in the pool and let my fingers linger on my husband’s skin, watching as the water slid down hisbroad shoulders, to his muscular chest, to his slim waist. It disappeared after that, and I almost wanted to drink the water—it had touched his skin.
