When his phone rang, he grunted out of annoyance but tugged the phone from his pocket. After two seconds of debate, he turned the ringer off, shoving the instrument back into his pocket.
“Anything important?” I asked, more amused than anything.
“Nothing that needs my time right now. Only you do.” He grabbed his jacket from behind my seat, sliding into it. That’s when I noticed his weapon.
“I feel special and you’re not taking a loaded gun inside the church.”
“You should feel very special and yes, I am. But thank you for reminding me to grab a second magazine of ammunition. Did you bring your thigh holster as I asked?”
“Yeah, it was under your jacket. You are not going to make me wear it.” Why did I bother saying that? Of course he was.
With a grin on his face, he reached back into the car, pulling the holster into his hot hands. “Where’s your weapon?” When I didn’t answer right away, he cocked his head, giving methatlook.
“Fine.” I grumbled and yanked the small pistol from my purse. “And why should I feel oh-so special?”
Donatello’s dimples were showing. He’d shaved, turning the scruff haphazardly covering his stern jaw into a masterpiece. Leaning over me, I was reminded how much taller he was.
He checked the Beretta I was carrying, including the full magazine of ammo. Once satisfied, he slowly dropped to his knees, placing the weapon and holster on the ground beside him.When he slid his hands under the hem of my dress, I started to push him away, giggling from the ticklish sensations.
There went another one of his looks, only this time a bit more sensual. So I responded by bending my knee and placing the toe of my sandal on the gravel to make it easier for him.
As soon as he wrapped the leather around my thigh, I shuddered. His hands were creations of God above, heating my skin to a thousand degrees. “An excellent question,” he responded. “Because there’s never been another woman for whom I’m willing to risk everything I’ve worked so hard to achieve to achieve her happiness and make good on a promise.”
CHAPTER 25
Emmeline
Sweet music.
That’s the way the words affected me. His words.
The man I was about to marry.
Donatello took his time securing the weapon, ensuring that it wouldn’t suddenly drop off during the adventure we were about to take a leap into.
“A promise made to me?”
Before answering he stood, taking the opportunity to rub his hands along my legs and hips, slowly crawling his fingers along my arms. “No, one to myself.”
“And what’s that?”
His almost sheepish expression was a pleasant change. “That I’d marry you one day no matter the difficulties or the odds.”
Wow. Just… wow.
The way he was looking at me was entirely different.
He intertwined our fingers, his hold possessive and his stride long and full of purpose. Once inside, I was struck by the instant moment of concentrated silence. In my mind, the tiny chapel was a quiet refuge where redemption was made possible. I could sense how many sinners had walked through the massive set of ornate wooden doors seeking redemption.
I was allowed to take a step away from Donatello who was watching my reaction. The ceilings were low with dark wooden beams that seemed to perfectly embrace the hallowed space. Raised Catholic, I’d been taught that no matter the ugliness and severity of the sin, absolution was always possible.
As long as my heart revered the word of God, rebuking all acts of Satan. Here I was, ignoring the simplest rules of my family, all for the sake of fulfilling my own passion and desires. A subtle laugh slipped past my lips when noticing the confessionals.
Forgive me, Father, for I have sinned. I’ve fallen in love with a man considered all wrong for me, but he’s the only man I’ve ever wanted.
Those were the words I’d speak if there was a priest and if I was still a good, practicing Catholic girl. I’d left the church the day my father had been murdered without a single regret.
So why was being here so troublesome?
