Chapter 22
Maximo
Iarrive home to find Elena curled up on the couch reading a book.
She greets me with a soft smile that doesn’t reach her haunted eyes.
While she seems serene enough now, I spent far too much time today watching her through the cameras.
First there was the snooping through every inch of my office, for what I’m not sure.
Perhaps she’s simply curious, maybe she’s building a case against me to send to the FBI.
I’m just grateful that she didn’t destroy anything this time.
Then she met with our wedding planner. That seemed to be going fine until Miss Jensen abruptly departed.
I wish I had audio. Since I don’t, I had to guess at their conversation.
Miss Jensen said something that upset Elena.
As soon as the woman left, my fiancée deflated, crouched against the front door with her head in her hands.
That’s when I decided to come home. She obviously needs me—even if she won’t admit it.
Even if she doesn’t want me. She needs me.
I pour myself a drink at the bar, considering how to broach the subject. “How did your meeting go with Miss Jensen?”
“Fine.” Defeat colors her tone. Which jabs at my heart. More than anything in the world, I want Elena to be happy. She deserves joy after those long years of simmering in her trauma.
Loosening my tie, I approach Elena, settling down in the armchair across from her to give her space, when what I really want to do is hold her close, to comfort and sooth her. To kiss her sadness away.
“What happened today? Why did she leave in the middle of your meeting?”
Elena glances up from her book, eyeing me. “Do you do anything at work besides spy on me all day?”
Her biting accusation brings a grin to my lips. “Not really. Spying on you is my favorite pastime.” I eat up the blush that colors her cheeks. “Now answer my question.”
Dropping a bookmark between the pages, she snaps the paperback shut and sits up. “She wants to go dress shopping this week.”
“And that’s a problem because..?”
She licks her lips, her grey eyes filling with a look that I know on her all too well. It’s the same fear I saw in her gaze when she first arrived in Italy.
With that singular insight, I realize the issue. She’s back sliding. Spiraling.
Taking a sip of cognac, I set the glass on a side table. “You can’t hide in here forever.”
She glances away, staring at the floor. “I know. And I don’t want to—not really.”
“Good. The best way to overcome fear is to confront it.” I stand up, firm in my decision that this is what’s best for her. “Get dressed, we’re going out for dinner.”
Her horrified gaze snaps to mine. “N-no. I-I can’t. It’s not safe out there.”
I give her a slow, wolfish grin. “What makes you think it’s any safer in here with me?
” Of course I’m only teasing her. She’s safer with me than any other person on this planet.
Even so, I drive my point home. “Though I relish the idea of you and me spending all of our time together. Just you and me. If you won’t go out, then neither will I.
We could stay here, together, for years. Wouldn’t that be nice?”
Her lips part in shock before her nose wrinkles with disgust. It’s the cutest little expression.
“You’re the worst, you know that?” She complains as she gets up and disappears into her bedroom.
I should be offended that she’d rather face her fears and risk assassins than spend time cooped up alone with me in our penthouse.
But I can’t let her regress to that scared little girl I met in Italy.
That girl wasted away, afraid of everything—including life—before she finally managed to get herself unstuck.
Therapists came and went, but it was her willpower to overcome that finally allowed her to move forward with her life.
We’re not going back to the hollowed out shell version of Elena. I won’t allow it.
An hour later she meets me in the foyer, looking like a princess in a cream and pink cocktail dress. Thick, pink framed glasses perched on her nose. A matching clutch.
I take her hand in mine, noting the tremors as we step into the elevator. My chest pinches. I have to remind myself that I’m making her extremely uncomfortable for her own good. I’m not punishing her for anything. She needs to leave this apartment and face the world, even if she does it scared.
“You’re safe with me, cara mia. I protected you last night, and I’ll do so again without hesitation. You do know that, right?”
She nods, avoiding my searching gaze.
“I’ve doubled the number of soldiers guarding us tonight. We won’t be taken by surprise like that ever again. I swear it.”
She bobs her head, but continues to stare at the floor.
I wish she knew that I’d lay down my life for hers.
I’ve spent a good deal of time today berating myself for what happened last night.
The evening was going too smoothly, too perfectly, that I relaxed and got sloppy. Then everything went to hell.
It won’t happen again.
“Who were they?” she suddenly asks. “The men who tried to kill us.”
“I don’t know. Professionals. By the time my men went back to find the dead bodies, they had already been removed. Every trace of them was wiped clean. But we’ll find them,” I confidently add.
She remains silent. I’d give a million dollars for her thoughts right now.
In the garage we slide into the back seat of a town car, this time accompanied by two other vehicles, one in front of us and the other trailing behind. I also have two soldiers on motorcycles to parallel us on our route to the restaurant.
I dare those fuckers to try to kill us again. If I knew who they were, who sent them, I’d crush them in a second just for frightening my girl. They have no idea what kind of damage they’ve done. But mark my words, once I find them, they’ll pay for it.
Elena spends the drive glancing in every direction, her hand crushing my palm—which I don’t mind at all—as she remains vigilant. My greatest desire is for her to take comfort in me. To draw strength from my presence.
We hit a pothole and she releases a startled scream.
I can’t help myself as I drag her into my chest. I need to have her close, especially when she’s feeling afraid. The best part is she lets me hold her, lets me whisper Italian sweet nothings in her ear until she gradually relaxes against my body.
Heaven.
While I hold her close, my senses are on high alert for any possible danger. From this day forth, they always will be. I can’t entertain thoughts of pleasuring her in the back of the car. Not until this is over.
We arrive at Spades and park in their secure garage where a host escorts us into the restaurant. We’re immediately seated at a private table for two. Away from prying eyes and potential dangers, Elena seems to settle. Her shoulders relax, as does the tightness around her eyes and mouth.
“We’ll have a bottle of your finest Chianti,” I tell the server, who quickly goes to fill my order. Leaning back in my chair, I study my fiancée. She’s no longer visibly shaking and her gaze rests on the view high above the city. “Feeling better?”
Her eyes flick over to me. “I suppose.”
I chuckle. “You can admit when I’m right. Facing your fear is much better than wallowing in it. Don’t you agree?”
“Yes.” Her tone’s reluctant, which I find amusing. She’s so damn stubborn when she wants to be. And she doesn’t even realize that her obstinance turns me on, drives me to love her even more.
“Was that so difficult? To admit I’m right.”
She rolls her eyes.
I laugh. Leaning forward, I say, “Tell me something about you that I don’t know.”
“Don’t you know everything?” She scrutinizes me. “You spend enough time spying on me instead of working, I doubt I have any secrets from you.”
Our wine arrives and I dismiss the server, insisting on pouring us each a glass. Elena downs half of hers, giving away her level of discomfort. So, I still make her nervous when we’re alone together. Good to know.
“Well?” I prompt.
“My favorite color is pink.”
I shoot her an incredulous look. “Obviously. Try again.”
“I like to read—”
“Romantasy. You also like to write it.”
She scoffs. “Like you even know a single thing about that genre.”
“I’m learning. Again, tell me something I don’t know.” I raise an eyebrow in challenge, waiting.
She sends me an exasperated glance. “Why should I?”
“Because if you do, then I’ll tell you something about myself.” I hope that bait is good enough to pique her interest.
“You seem to be under the impression that I want to know more about you.” She gives me her best haughty expression. Fuck, I can’t wait to make her mine. All mine. Every damn inch of her.
I smirk. “Don’t pretend you’re not curious. Why else would you spend half the day snooping around my home office?”
A blush colors her cheeks. “Fine. I… Let me think. Got it. I’ve always wanted a horse.”
“A horse? Why?” That is something I didn’t know, and never would have guessed. I’ve never seen Elena anywhere near horses.
“Because they’re pretty and very smart. I love the idea of riding across rolling green hills on a warm spring day. There’s something… romantic about it. Tranquil too. It would be so calming.” A shy smile lights her face before she glances down, reaching for her wine glass again.
“Do you know how to ride?”
Her blush deepens. “Not really, no. I’ve never had the chance to learn.”
I sip my wine in thought. That is one thing I can fix. Eventually. “Your turn. What do you want to know?”
She gives it some serious consideration, so much so, that I’m flattered. “How many questions do I get?”
“As many as you like.” I’m eager to learn just how curious she is about me.
“Okay. What’s your favorite color?”
“Grey.”
She wrinkles her nose. “Grey isn’t a color.”
“It is. My favorite shade is a soft, delicate grey.” Like your eyes.
“Okay…” She seems unconvinced. “Do you have any siblings?”
“Yes, actually. I’m the eldest, which is why my father sent me here to be the Pontrelli don. But that means my younger brother will step into our father’s role one day. Romeo’s only a year younger than me and we’ve always been close. Then there’s Santo. He’s three years younger.”
“So just two younger brothers?”
“Yeah.” I try to keep the darkness out of my tone and fail. “We once had a sister. Julianna passed away six years ago.”
“I’m so sorry.” Elena’s hand reaches out and covers mine. The unexpected contact takes me by surprise, even as I revel in it. “I had an older brother. Matteo. We lost him several years ago.”
I nod in sympathy. I know enough about that horrible year she lived when she was not only taken captive but lost her older brother and both parents in a span of a few short weeks. That’s when she relocated to Italy to escape it all.
To change the topic of our conversation, I retrieve the black AMEX card from my suit pocket and slide it toward her. “I thought you should have this. Just know that if you purchase plane tickets, or any other means of transportation, I’ll immediately be alerted.”
She stares at me, her expression hard. “I don’t want your money.”
“Soon, once you’re my wife, it will be our money. Take the card, Elena.”
Her chin tilts at that stubborn angle. She gives a subtle shake of her head. “I have my own money. If you’ll just unfreeze my bank account, then I won’t need anything from you.”
“Therein lies the problem, bella, I want you to rely on me. Spend my money. Take every penny of it if that will make you happy.”
“No.” She sips her wine, glancing away.
“Elena,” I infuse my tone with warning. To my mind, this is non-negotiable. She needs money to go about her daily activities. “Don’t be unreasonably stubborn. Take. The. Card.”
We stare at each other for at least ten seconds. Neither of us blink. We’re caught up in a true battle of wills. Staring her down, my pulse thrums steadily. No matter what, I refuse to back down.
With a huff, she snatches the card from the table. A triumphant grin tugs at my lips and I let it blossom. She scowls at my expression.
“I won’t spend a single dime of your money.” She purses her lips.
My humor drops away. “If there’s not a sizable charge on there by this time tomorrow, I will drag you out of the apartment and we will go shopping. Together. Where you will buy everything in every store we walk into. No exceptions.”
My threat hangs in the air between us.
Her scowl deepens. “I hate you.”
“I know.” My chest warms because if she means it the same way the heroine does in her book… then she really doesn’t hate me at all. I may be her villain, but I’m also the man she desires.
We’re perfect together. All she has to do is admit the truth to herself.