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6
After coming hard and not able to do anything but helplessly watch Cat flee like the devil was at her heels, the rest of my day was exhausting. The house was full of pampered women, with manicurists and a variety of other beauticians coming in and out, that I had to monitor for security reasons. Meanwhile, the men were holed up in the library for meetings, taking the necessary breaks for eating, drinking, and to watch a soccer game.
It was past midnight by the time I nodded to the guard in the hallway as he patrolled the house. On the landing of the stairway separating the two wings of my home, I paused. When the guard turned the corner, I ducked into the wing that held the rooms occupied by the Popescu family. I should never have dared step onto their side of the house, but I knew I wouldn’t fall asleep after what happened that morning.
Palming the master key in my hand, I decided to visit Cat and just…feel her for a moment. Sit in her presence and breathe her in. Maybe that would help guide my next steps. It was obvious that I was grasping for excuses to see her, but that awareness didn’t deter me one bit.
Unlocking the door, I slipped quietly into her dark bedroom. In the center of the room was a canopied bed, with burgundy velvet curtains tied to the tall wooden posts. Peacefully asleep, her long lashes fanned across her cheeks, blonde like her hair, eyes moving beneath her lids. Her lush lips curved up in a small, mysterious smile, reminding me of the Mona Lisa.
Her full breasts strained against the pink silk of her nightgown, shadows of her nipples evident against the thin, light-colored material. I salivated at the thought of bending down and sucking them into my mouth, making them nice and wet. Maybe swiping my tongue over the wet material, rubbing until her nipples went stiff. I’d slip my hand beneath the single sheet and tickle her little clit until she woke up moaning into my mouth.
She made a movement, throwing off the sheet and flinging her hand over her head. My eyes greedily drank in her flat stomach. Fuck, she was gorgeous. Her leg bent and slid upward, pulling the silk of her nightie and exposing a beautiful slim thigh. My cock went rock hard. All the while, the scent of fresh nectarine blossoms drifted over me. I could only imagine what she tasted like.
Glaring down, I stared at the slight gap between her thighs. My fingers twitched, and I had to stop myself from helping her silk nightie farther up her leg to show me that sweet, innocent pussy again. Fuck, I was a bastard. Thank God, I’d never pretended to be anything else. Otherwise, I’d take the prize for being a hypocrite.
Mumbling, her brows drew together before they smoothed over and she tossed her head to the side, away from me. What a restless sleeper. That didn’t surprise me, for some reason. As strong as she was, there was a fragile innocence about her. If she were wrapped in my arms, I’d keep her still through the night.
My fingertips coasted down her cheek.
So soft.
Her arm flung out, and she made a distressed sound like some evil interloper had crashed into her dream. Her shoulders swished from side to side as if trying to shrug off the unpleasantness. A keening sound, pitiful really, came from her parted lips, getting louder and louder by the second.
Worried someone might hear her and try to enter, I laid down and wrapped her into my arms. Her intoxicating peach blossom scent wrapped around me. It was like lying in a fresh meadow in the middle of a hot summer night under a cascade of shooting stars.
Turning into my chest, she nuzzled the cotton of my T-shirt. I felt it grow damp beneath her cheek. She was crying. Having a father and brother like hers would make anyone cry, but what the hell? She was a protected princess. A jewel. She shouldn’t be weeping in her sleep.
Suddenly, a rage took hold of me, choking me. What the fuck had they done to her? Why hadn’t they done a better job of protecting her? It was their duty to take care of her, coddle her, and make sure none of their nonsense encroached on her life. One of the few traditions I supported was protecting our women.
Something niggled in the hidden recesses of my mind. Whatever was giving her nightmares was the reason they’d sent her off to boarding school. Cat was the only mafie girl I’d ever heard of being sent away to school, that’s how unusual it was. Maybe I was conflating two unrelated occurrences, but my gut told me something was off. And I followed my gut. It was one of the first lessons of any mafie made man. If I had to take a guess, I’d say something happened to her, and they sent her away to either help her or hide their fuck up.
Petting her hair gently, I racked my brain, trying to recall how old she’d been when she’d left for that fancy school in Massachusetts. I shushed and hummed to her until her heartbreaking crying tapered off and she snuggled into my arms. Drawing her knees into her chest, she huddled into me as if seeking comfort from a thunderstorm. I caressed her cheek with my knuckles until she settled down into quiet, normal sleep. My chest swelled with pride at her response to my ministrations.
I couldn’t leave her. At least, not yet. My lips brushed the crown of her head. The gentle pressure of her lithe body nestled against mine humbled me. For the first time in the longest time, I had a purpose that extended beyond myself and my family. Watching over her made sense. Something clicked inside me, and for the first time, I felt like I belonged. Snuggled together in the cocoon of her bed, where she and I were all that existed, felt right. Her warm breath fluttered over my skin. I soaked in the richness of these feelings.
The night would pass too quickly, and with it, the spell would be broken. I’d stay for a while and creep away like a thief before she woke up. A strain of sadness quivered inside me at the realization that I couldn’t share this with her. That she’d never consciously experience this time with me. She belonged to Nicu and the only moments I’d have with her alone, holding her close, would be stolen ones like these. And even they would have to end once she was married.
* * *
I smelledsomething spicy and warm. Speaking of warm, one whole side of my body was as blazing hot as a furnace. I shuddered at the cold front on my back and nuzzled deeper into the warmth of my pillow.
My hard pillow.
My fingers flexed against white cotton and again…I felt hardness. Soft cotton snagged over a hard surface beneath my cheek.
My eyes fluttered open and I stared into this strange white cotton. My head ticked up and my vision was filled with the beautiful, cruel face I recognized so well. Luca? I must be dreaming. This was a dream. I stared at dark blond eyelashes casting shadows that sloped over the hard angle of his tanned cheekbone.
A puff of breath ghosted over my forehead and I blinked. This was no dream; I was awake and Luca was in my bed.
Lifting onto my elbow, I shook my brain fog and found myself curled into Luca’s side. Good grief, he took up space. His broad chest heaved once and his shoulders stretched the wrinkled cotton of his shirt. Now I knew why the front of my body was so hot. He gave off some serious heat.
And that spicy male scent…I bit into my lip. His chest lifted and fell rhythmically beneath my splayed hand, my fingers digging into the soft cotton.
Okay, okay.
I took in a bracing breath.
Think.
