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I wanted to beg him to take me with him, but instead, I nodded.
“You don’t leave the house without an escort. Promise me, Allegra. I need to know you’re safe.”
Tears burned behind my eyes. “I’ll be fine.”
“Walk with me.” He held his hand out to me.
He stared at my ring, running his thumb over the ruby, then linking our fingers and leading me to the foyer.
While we were alone, he spoke quietly. “No one can know of the vows we spoke last night.”
I tried not to think about the partial conversation I’d heard. I knew he needed to go home and assume the responsibilities as don. But he’d mentioned Giada. Did he rush to comfort her? Her name was the first on his lips.
Not mine. His thoughts were on the one waiting for him, not the one he was leaving behind.
“I know we’re not really married.”
“Have you forgotten our vows already?” His fingers tunneled into my hair, still slightly damp from the quick shower to wash the blood from my body. “I haven’t.”
A tingle flared within me, lighting up the deepest parts of me with an awakened memory of his hands and mouth on me.
“I’ve lost my brother and my father. Until I know the name of my enemy, you aren’t safe.” He backed me against the wall. He took my left hand, the one wearing a ring that blazed with fire and bound me to him and held my palm to his chest where I’d cut him. “You’re mine, Allegra Bruno.”
Footfalls raced above us.
“Lanny!” Deidre flew down the stairs, her hair a tangled mess from sleeping.
Orlando and Emilio reentered the house from the pre-dawn darkness outside the open door.
Deidre launched herself into his arms. “I’m so sorry.”
He squeezed her. “Thank you, patatina.”
She dropped onto her tiptoes. “I know you have to go, but I don’t want you to.”
Orlando tried to flatten her hair with his palm. “You look homeless.”
She batted his hand away. “Don’t be a douche, or I’m not going to miss you.”
“Ant is loading the luggage into the SUV,” Emilio said to Marco. “He said to tell you we’re ready when you are.”
Marco buttoned his blazer. His gaze shifted from my father to my brother. “Thank you. I wish circumstances were different.”
Santino’s jaw tightened. “Our condolences to you, don, and to the Bruno family.” He took a step closer. He towered over me and glared at Marco. “But don’t keep her waiting longer than necessary.”
“Santi—”
His narrowed glare shut me up. My brother was pissed, and Marco didn’t need my brother’s drama.
“He’s right to protect his sister.” Marco spoke to me but stared at Santino.
“Stay safe.” I breathed deeply of Marco’s scent, touched the soft hair of his beard, and committed the hard angles of his face to memory.
He pressed a quick kiss to my lips. “I’ll call you as soon as I can.”
And then he was gone. No words of love were whispered. No promises were made. The slightest brush of his lips pillowed against mine had branded me as his.
“I knew it,” my mother seethed. “He’s not coming back.” She glared at my dad. “I told you she’d run him off.”
