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But he loves me, and he is already making allowances for me that he won’t ever make for anyone else. I didn’t know that for sure until today.
“I want you to consider transitioning your business to include legal activities,” I state, aiming for a firm tone and annoyed with myself when the words come out in a trembling rush.
Whatever he expected from me, it wasn’t that, and he laughs roughly before running a hand through his dark hair, mussing up its usual neatness.
“That’s your trade-off for staying with me? It is one hell of a large and difficult condition to achieve, Bianca.”
“I know.” What I’m asking him is impossible. I want it, so much, but deep down, I know it is simply a pipe dream. “And there’s more.”
His brows rise. “It’s you. Of course there’s more.”
I cross my arms over my chest, feeling the baby kick suddenly, as if our child is trying to join the conversation. Rio couldn’t see the kick, not beneath my sundress, but it is as if he’s so tuned in to my body that he knows anyway. His gaze drops to my belly, then rises again. This time, his expression holds a touch of humor.
“Well? What is the rest, then, dear wife? Should I cease calling you little bird and now call you my little moral compass instead?”
“I could live with that.” I take a deep breath and release it in a slow exhale. “I also want you to consider funding the Animal Paws Rescue Center, where I used to work.” I hold up a hand to cut him off as he opens his mouth. “Not a one-off donation, but as an ongoing thing. Where you become a regular and continuous source of funding for them. You ruined the lives of several of my friends and colleagues when you kidnapped me at their door. It’s the least you can do, Rio.Please.”
I don’t mean to add the plea, but I’ve had a lot of time on my own down in the dungeon to think recently, and I really want to help them in some way. I burned my bridges when I met with Dave and showed so clearly that I love Rio, despite his sometimes-violent lifestyle and despite the fact that his men shot two of my friends. So, I can never go back there to work. But the least Rio and I can do, as a couple, is to donate some of our money to help them.
The Carlotti inheritance was mine, after all, and even though I never knew about it until Rio told me it existed, I should still have the opportunity to spend at least a little of it in ways that I choose.
He breaks into a full belly laugh, the sound so rare and beautiful that my lips automatically lift. Then I realize he’s probably about to shoot down my idea in flames, and my smile dims.
But instead of answering my questions, he gestures toward the table where the waiter is still lurking in the corner. “Come, Bianca. Let’s eat. I have something to tell you that might change things for you.”
“Will you at least think about—”
“We will eat, and then I will tell you about my little surprise, and then we will talk some more about your…conditions.”
That’s obviously the best I’ll get from him. I didn’t really think I could just demand a man like Rio go legit, and he’d say yes and fall into my arms in a happily ever-after situation. Or at least, the logical, reasoning part of me didn’t think that. But a tiny voice in the back of my mind keeps whispering.
Youdidthink that, and when he won’t deliver, you know you’re going to have to run once again. Not now maybe, but one day.
But I already know that if I try to run for a second time, I won’t succeed. He won’t let me. And if I attempt it, I’ll likely end up dead. No matter how much Rio loves me.
* * *
Rio
We eatwhile the yacht meanders down the river and out into the harbor. I have paid to ensure we are left alone for our jaunt before we head back up the river again. I do not wish to be disturbed.
My orders to Danelli were clear. Do not allow anyone to come near the yacht this afternoon.
The lunch is finally cleared away, the waitstaff has disappeared below deck as ordered, and I lean back on the cushioned seat, studying Bianca. Her dark hair is loose, long locks lifting gently in the breeze that sweeps across the deck. Her cheeks are pink, and the faint sprinkle of freckles across her nose is more pronounced today than usual. She is wearing no makeup that I can discern, and yet, in this moment, she looks more beautiful than I have ever seen her before.
Until she turns those intriguing amber eyes my way and narrows them as if annoyed.
“Well, Rio? We ate. You said you had a surprise to share, and then you would consider my conditions.”
I tilt my head. “No. I said I had a surprise for you, and then we would talk.”
“Hmm.” Even her irritated grunt sounds sexy to me. Everything about her is sexy. “Your surprise?”
“Yes. Come here.” I tap the cushion beside me. I want her close when I tell her what I’ve arranged.
She studies my fingers on the cushion, then shrugs and rises from her spot, repositioning herself beside me. She is sometimes an obedient wife—and yet I love the fact that I never know which Bianca I will get at any given moment.
I lean in, and her delicate perfume wafts up and around me. I am not sure if it is her shampoo or her body soap, or if the scent is purely her, but my senses soak it in as if she is wearing the heady perfume of life itself.
