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She parts her lips and I sweep my tongue inside. I kiss her deeply, lose myself in her, and draw her closer, until she’s pressed into my chest, and I can’t tell where she begins and I end. Her hair flows over my arm, her breath sears my skin, and the curve of her hip under the palm of my hand quivers and draws me in, seducing me, coaxing me to grab at her butt and squeeze. A moan bleeds from her lips, and lust detonates in my gut. I slide my palm under her shirt and flatten my fingers against the soft swell of her stomach. Her skin is so soft, I might as well have dipped my fingers in silken cream. I tilt my head and deepen the kiss even more, when there’s a rap on the window.
I tear my mouth from hers and swivel to face the window. The glass is dark, so our actions wouldn’t have been very visible, although the outline of our figures would have made it clear what we were up to. I know it’s Massimo outside. I pull my hand out from under her shirt and smooth it down. Then, I kiss her one last time. "Ready?"
"No," she breathes. "I don’t think I can do this."
"You’re stronger than you think,tesoro mio." I press a kiss to her forehead, tuck her hair behind her ear, and scan her face one last time to make sure she’s okay. Then I unhook my belt, push the door open, and step out with her in my arms.
Massimo moves back to give us space.
"You all set?" He glances from my face to hers, then back at me.
I nod.
"The jet’s fueled, the pilot’s waiting, and I think I can hold off for at least six hours before Michael discovers the jet is not where it’s supposed to be."
I wince.
"It’s better than what happened at Seb’s wedding, when everyone landed at the town hall for his supposedly secret wedding," Massimo points out.
"That’s what happens when you try to sneak away and get married under the nose of thefamiglia," I scoff.
"You’re certainly setting the bar high." He rubs his chin. "Although, looking at the trouble you’re going to, I’m glad I’m not going to be eloping."
"So, you’re going in for the arranged marriage with theCamorraprincess?"
"Not a chance." He scowls. "I won’t be pushed into something unless I am a hundred-percent sure of it. And right now, marriage isn’t on top of the agenda for me."
"But you did declare that you wouldn’t be opposed to an arranged marriage."
"That was then." He glances between me and Jeanne again. "Watching the lot of you find true love—"
"We’re not in love." Both Jeanne and I chorus together. Then we turn to look at each other, before turning to Massimo, who’s watching us with a bemused look on his face.
"What?" I growl.
"Nothing." His smile widens.
Fucker watches us with a secret gleam in his eyes like he knows something I don’t.
"Spit it out already," I grumble.
He chuckles. "Nothing the two of you don’t know already."
"Not sure what you’re trying to say here."
He grabs my shoulder with his massive paw and squeezes hard. Good thing we are equally matched in strength; a weaker guy might have keeled over with the pressure.
"Good luck,fratello." He grins. "If you want to beat the news of your elopement, which is probably on its way to our family as we speak, you might want to get on that jet, pronto."
Forty-five minutes later, we land at a private airstrip a few kilometers outside Valleta, the Maltese capital.
I turn to the woman who’s sleeping in the seat next to me. I let her sleep as the engines of the plane wind down. Stillness creeps through the space as I take in the curve of her lips, the flush of her cheeks, the brush of her eyelashes, which flutter as she awakens and yawns.
She meets my gaze and smiles, then straightens.
"We’re here?"
"We are."
