I pulled back, still inside her, and looked into her eyes. “I’ve never gone raw. I’m clean,” I assured her.
Her eyes were wide as she bit her lip. “Well I mean, I am too. It was just that one guy years ago. But I’m not on birth control.”
I slid out of her, pulling her into my body. “If it happens, it happens,” I replied easily. Truth be told, the idea of her round with my baby wasn’t at all an unwelcome thought.
She smacked my chest. “We just started dating!”
I chuckled. “I’ll use one next time,” I assured her. “And we’re not dating.”
She looked at me, her brow pinched in adorable confusion. “Then what are we?”
I shrugged. “I don’t know, something way more fuckin’ serious than dating.”
She rolled her eyes but I could tell my comment pleased her. I nuzzled her neck. “Rest up, baby. After the months I’ve spent dreaming about what it would be like to get inside you, and having it be ten times better than that, I’m nowhere near done.”
****
My fingers traced down her spine as she lay with her back to me, her calves entwined with mine. Even after hours of making her mine, I couldn’t seem to stop touching her.
“My parents would have liked you,” she murmured.
I fought like hell to keep my movements fluid, my fingers continuing their journey as I waited for her to continue.
“I was ten when they were killed. I fight so hard to remember them but every day it gets harder.” Her voice was thick with emotion as she continued. “I remember some things so vividly. The smell of my mother’s perfume—a lady came into the bakery a few months ago with the same scent, and I had to shut down for the day,” she admitted. “Or the way my father’s elbows would rest on the edge of my bed when he’d tell me stories before bed. That weight, it was so comforting.” She sighed, burrowing deeper into me.
Understanding dawned. “It’s why the Rossi name still matters to you so much,” I murmured.
She nodded. “Being a Rossi used to be a point of pride. It was important to my father that it meant something more than the mob.”
“What happened to them, baby?” I asked gently.
“My father had different ideas for the Rossi family. He didn’t have the same dark intentions as my uncle. Of course, I didn’t know any of this at the time, my nonna explained it later. The men respected my father—he was a natural leader. And therefore, a threat. My parents were going out to a movie—I was supposed to go but I wasn’t feeling well, so my grandparents came to stay with me.”
My entire body went rigid at the realization that I could have lost her before I’d ever had the chance to have her.
“The car exploded a mile from the house.” Her tone was dull and remote as she continued. “There wasn’t anything left to identify.”
“So you’re telling me that not only did he murder two innocent people, one of them a mother, but he’d intended for you, a ten-year-old little girl to be in the car?” I demanded, unable to quell my fury.
She turned in my arms, staring at me with resignation. “I don’t know that he intended to kill me too. I just don’t think he cared.” She shrugged, her acceptance piercing my heart. “My father was the target. Anyone happening to be with him when the order was carried out was just unlucky. That’s how he operates.”
“Not for long,” I snarled. “I swear to you, and it’s not just because I’m so fucking in love with you I can’t see straight, I will take care of that piece of shit because he doesn’t deserve to walk this earth.”
Her eyes popped wide. “You—you love me?” she squeaked.
“With every part of me,” I decreed, staring into her gorgeous brown eyes.
Her delicious lips formed a sweet little O I couldn’t help but kiss. It didn’t matter to me if she said it back, not yet anyway. I just needed her to know. I took her mouth in an all-consuming kiss. Now that I’d said the words, I was ready to show her—again.
Chapter 18
FRANCESCA
“I’m sorry, Miss Rossi, I really am,” the insurance adjuster was saying the next morning as I held Maddox’s phone to my ear. Maddox was watching me intently, a cup of coffee in his hands as he leaned against the counter across from me.
The police had determined the fire was arson, no shock there, and since the investigation was open, I’d hit a wall with receiving any insurance payout. I gritted my teeth in frustration. The Las Vegas PD weren’t going to be in a real hurry to work this case with my uncle at their beck and call.
“But I haven’t been identified as a suspect,” I argued. “I had nothing to do with this.”
