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Nero held out his hands for Tatiana, and I reluctantly handed her over. Okay, so maybe I was broody. The kid had a way of making all of us completely soft for her, and I prayed to fuck Emilia didn’t give me a daughter just like her. I’d never survive it.
“Have fun on your honeymoon, Emi,” Renzo said.
She looked from him to me, her eyes widening. “We’re going on a honeymoon?”
“Yeah.”
“Why?”
“Because you never had one, and I want to take you.” Ah, my sweet little mafia princess. So confounded by the smallest things. “We have peace. This lot can handle everything here.”
The smile that slowly split her face was blinding. “We’re leaving the country?”
“We are.”
“Oh my God.” She threw herself at me, wrapping her arms around my neck.
Fuck, I’d take her to every damn country if it made her smile like that.
28
EMILIA
I sat cross-legged on the lounger and closed my eyes as I tilted my face toward the burning sun. The sound of waves gently lapping against the yacht's hull was like a balm to my soul, and I thought I could happily stay here forever. The boat was ultimate freedom, following the wind anywhere in the world.
Opening my eyes once more, I glanced down at the pad in my lap, trying to draw from memory. There was no way to capture the charm of the little Greek island of Mykonos with pencil and paper. The white buildings that sat clustered against the backdrop of the mountain. The jewel green of the Mediterranean ocean that gave way to frothy waves that lapped mercilessly at stony shores. It had been one of my favorite places so far, with its picturesque streets and lively bars.
I’d loved everywhere we’d been in the last two weeks, though.
We’d started in the Greek islands, then Athens and Italy, because Gio deemed it tragic for me to never have been to our motherland. At each stop, he indulged me in museums and art galleries. Greek statues and masterpieces from the Italian Renaissance had blown me away with their beauty.
Then we went to Sicily and stayed for two days with Una’s friend, Sasha, and his wife, Adelina. Sasha was a strange character, and to be honest, the guy scared me. But Adelina was nice, even if she did head up the Sicilian mafia.
From there, we’d cut across the Med until last night, when we’d reached Egypt. We were currently anchored about a mile off the Egyptian coast, waiting to travel down the Nile to Cairo. Why? Because I told Gio I wanted to see a camel one day. Not pyramids or mummies. A camel. Well, now I was getting all three, and I was so excited.
The man would do anything to please me. I didn’t know why or how I had gotten so lucky, but I loved him more than I ever thought I could love another person. If there was such a thing as a soul mate, then I thought he was mine because he fed my soul with every action, every word, every kiss.
I felt like I was living in a Disney movie, between all these places and him, though Gio would be both the villain and Prince Charming.
I swept my pencil over the paper once more, trying to capture the wildness of the sea.
A warm breeze stirred my hair before I felt rough fingers glide over my bare back. “Amore mio, you’re up early.”
Gio moved to the lounger beside me, a towel wrapped around his waist and a mug of coffee in his hand. It was winter, and though Europe hadn’t been the warmest, it was still sunny. The closer we got to Egypt over the last couple of days, the hotter it became. Gio’s skin was already a deep sun-kissed gold, and if the man looked good before, he looked like every dirty fantasy I’d ever had now.
I watched as a drop of water fell from his wet hair, sliding over his pec and jumping over each row of abs. I was jealous of that drop of water. My gaze dropped lower, stopping on the pronounced tent of his towel.
“Keep looking at me like that, Emilia, and I’m going to fuck you right here on the deck.”
I smirked. “You wouldn’t. One of the crew might see.” I knew from experience that he had no qualms about fucking in the middle of the ocean when the crew slept. But in broad daylight, when they were going about their duties… He was far too possessive.
“See what? That you’re mine?”
“No.” I tossed my sketchbook onto the lounger and pushed to my feet before straddling him. I yanked his towel free and wrapped my fingers around the hard length of him. “That you’re mine.”
He was warm in my hand, his skin velvet soft. He groaned when I stroked over him, and I glanced down. He really was impossibly beautiful like this. Bare, sun playing over his muscles, relaxed. I’d never seen him so calm and playful.
