Well, almost.
I pull away from her lips and stare into her eyes. They shine brightly at me with wonder. The sound of clapping from the backof the church straddles us both, and we both look to see three men in suits.
“Congratulazioni, Don Romano. We are here to witness and deliver this gift for your bride.” The man standing closest to the door approaches with a large white box with a red bow and tries to hand it to Rosario.
I push her behind my back and point to the front pew.
“We have some paperwork to take care of. Thank you, but your presence is no longer needed.” I try to keep my voice civil, but the priest picks up on the tension and steps forward with his hands up.
“There will be no violence in the house of God. Go now in peace.” The guy with the box drops it on the pew and purposefully adjusts his suit jacket so that his gun harness shows before he buttons it.
“Your grandfather sends his regards, and he wishes you a fruitful union.” He winks at my wife before turning to leave, and it takes everything in me not to follow them out of the church.
“What did that mean?” I take her hand in mine and notice her shivering worse than when I found her half frozen.
“The clock has started.” I nod at the priest, and we follow him to his office, where I rush him through the paperwork while avoiding all his questions about the men who got into his locked church.
I need to get my wife home and figure out what’s in that fucking box cause the Famiglia doesn’t just give normal presents. Rosario must be thinking along the same lines cause as soon as we get back in the truck, she rips the bow off the box and tears into the package.
Eleven white long-stem roses with red tips, tied with a red ribbon, with a rattle hanging from it. Rosario runs her fingers around the tiny silver toy before letting out a little snort.
“Subtle,” she slams the lid back on the roses and sighs.
She only gets half the meaning, but I got the message loud and clear.
We have an heir to make.
Chapter Eight
Bruno
She’s closed off and quiet the whole way back to the cabin. We never discussed how tonight would go. We were both so caught up in the actual marriage that the wedding night never came up.
After that kiss earlier, I thought for sure it would be a traditional night of us consummating the union.
God, that sounds awful.
Fucking, mating, breeding all seem like better terms for what I want to do to her, but as I glance at her again, my libido goes cold. I’ve already taken too much from her, and no matter how attracted we are to one another, this is being forced on us both.
I hate that I can’t change this for her.
Sighing, I turn onto the service road that runs up the mountain to my property. The snow is starting to fall again, and the weather forecast is bleak. We’re going to be snowed in the entire weekend together.
I won’t have my usual escapes like chopping wood, checking the fences and cameras, or hunting with this much snow on theground. Other than keeping the generator running, which only takes a few minutes, I won’t be able to avoid her.
I sigh as I run my hand through my hair infrustration.
“I’m sorry.” I grind my teeth at her apology.
“You have no reason to be sorry, sweetheart. None of this is your fault. If anything, I should be sorry.” I shake my head as I maneuver the truck into the carport.
“But you’re not.” Her words take me off guard.
I’m sorry she’s in this situation, but not that she’s here with me.
“No, I guess I’m not. A better man would be, and you deserve way better than this.” I keep the more serious and important part of what I’m thinking silent.
You deserve better than me.
