Chapter 28
Contessa
Four of us walk through the security gate into the Di Santo residence, dressed in our Sunday best, but each for very different reasons.
Papa is heading to a business meeting straight after lunch; Allegra is determined to outshine Cristiano’s late mother’s second cousin; and Bambi has discovered fashion magazines and the teenage affliction that is raging hormones and rollercoaster self-esteem, which of course, can only be tempered by Abercrombie this is genuinely me. I’m pretty dark, apparently. But I’m not in my daily American Apparel uniform; I’m wearing designer because I want to look sexy and I want to impress a certain consigliere.
I hold back behind Allegra and Bambi, only half-listening to Allegra’s monologue about Cristiano’s hostile yet strangely charismatic family, because Papa’s work call is also infiltrating my consciousness.
Ever since Trilby told me his business is only safe now because of Cristiano, my interest in it feels weightier.
But, the real reason I’m hiding behind my aunt and sister is because I know Bernadi is going to be here and I have no idea how to be around him in public.
No one knows we’re having a thing and I don’t particularly want word getting out just yet.
If Papa and Cristiano found out Benito and I had slept together, they’d force us to marry, and I don’t want anyone to be put in that position.
After I was put in the position of feeling obliged to give my virginity up, I know how that feels and the resentment it can cause.
Cristiano has arranged a get-together with his family and ours, to encourage us to “get to know one another” but after the car crash that was the party for Trilby’s engagement to Cristiano’s late brother, Savero, I don’t have high hopes for this lunch.
The sound of exuberant female voices reaches us before we round the corner to the terrace.
Allegra mutters something under her breath.
“Now, remember, we’re doing this for Trilby,” I remind our aunt.
We walk along the footpath crossing the lawn and I search frantically for Trilby or Cristiano. Aunt Allegra isn’t best known for her patience or tact, and both have the power to derail Trilby’s relationship with her soon-to-be in-laws.
Unfortunately, my view is restricted to that of three exuberantly curved olive-skinned women with bleached yellow hair—one around Aunt Allegra’s age, the other two late-thirties perhaps—a rotund man with a glistening sheen on his forehead and a large scotch in his hand, and two younger men I don’t remember seeing before.
They’re both dark-haired, of Italian blood and as sworn in as the man whose house we’re gathering at.
It’s obvious in the way they stand, the way their eyes dance over our bodies as Bambi and I approach, and the way one hand nurses a single malt in a lowball, while the other rests casually in their pockets, shielding any . 45s from view.
Nervousness skitters down my spine at the thought of Benito seeing that look in their eyes. While the last three days have suggested many things to me regarding our relationship, the most prominent is that I’m not anyone else’s for the taking.
We didn’t leave the hotel room once. We slept, we talked, we ate, but mostly, we explored each other.
The more time I spent with Bernadi’s naked body, the more I learned about him.
I learned that his cut muscles and defined form are a result of daily workouts, usually in his own house but while it’s under reconstruction, Cristiano’s.
I learned that trailing my fingers down the side of his ribs earns me a sharp spank, while pressing my lips to his neck sends him into a mindless frenzy.
I learned that he hates eggs but eats three every day for protein. And that he loves chips so much I have to hide them so he doesn’t inhale the entire bag.
I learned that he can, and seemingly does, manage to function on four hours sleep, and that he can hold three phone calls at once discussing a varied mix of topics including architectural engineering, the legal ramifications of bribing government officials, and the intricacies of vehicle maintenance—specifically my vehicle and my particular brand of maintenance, which is basically none at all.
I learned that once he’s made a decision about something, or someone, he doesn’t retract it easily, my car being a case in point.
The second he decided it was now his problem, my protests fell on completely deaf ears as he orchestrated an army of people to fetch it, fix it, upgrade it and not let me anywhere near it until the former three stages were complete.
Despite everything I did learn, there are still things I didn’t learn, and not for a lack of trying.
When I asked him how he became the consigliere to the Di Santo family, his gaze darkened and he changed the subject.
He spoke fondly about Gianni, Cristiano’s late father and former don, but shut down the conversation when I asked him how they first met.
And when I asked why he’d inked his entire chest with defensive depictions of electric fencing, snake bites and poison ivy, he threw on a T-shirt.
I pouted like an actual spoiled child. So, naturally, I’m not going to ask that question again.
What I absolutely do know, however, is it is entirely possible to fall head over heels in total lust with an enemy within seventy-two hours, and discover erogenous zones I never knew I had.
I don’t have much to compare him to, but he knew his way around me like he had a secret map, and his focus over the three days was squarely on discovering how many ways and how many times he could make me come.
I was so exhausted when he returned me home, I skipped two dance classes and didn’t leave my room for a further three days.
The five of them form a human barrier between the lawn and the terrace. But, fortunately, Trilby delicately pushes her way through to envelope each of us in a warm, relieved hug.
“I’m so glad you’re here,” she murmurs into my ear.
“I didn’t expect there to be so many people.” The terrace is thick with the scent of expensive perfume and cologne.
She pulls back and rolls her eyes toward Allegra. “Big extended family,” she says through a smile.
Just as Trilby wraps her arms around our aunt, two of the women approach us.
“Trilby?”
My sister looks around and beams politely at the older woman. “Yes?”
“I’m Bianca, Cristiano’s aunt—his mother’s side.”
“Oh!” Trilby gives Bianca’s hand a soft shake. “It’s wonderful to finally meet you. Cristiano has told me lots about you and your family. Is Isabella h—”
“Hi!” The younger woman, who looks a little closer to Trilby’s age, steps forward. “I’m Isabella. We’ve connected on Insta but, wow, you’re even prettier in the flesh.”
I glance sideways just in time to see a soft blush creep up my sister’s cheeks. “Thank you. And so are you,” she smiles.
“How are the wedding plans coming along? I hear the hotel is absolutely gorgeous.”
“Oh it is,” Trilby gushes. “Our sister Sera is doing her hospitality training there. I hear your wedding to Augie’s nephew was beautiful. I was hoping to get a few tips from you.”
While Trilby and Isabella talk weddings, Allegra turns to Cristiano’s aunt. It seems the good natured banter stopped at Trilby and Cristiano’s cousin—the atmosphere that has suddenly descended over the two aunts is decidedly frosty.
I make an excuse about needing a glass of water and leave them to their differences.
After Bambi and I have dissected the outfit choices of nearly every guest, Bambi heads off to find Allegra and Trilby takes her place.
“Who’s that?” I ask, nodding toward a woman who seems to have caught Papa’s attention. She’s around Allegra’s age with long dark hair softly curled and a beautiful figure wrapped in a conservatively tailored dress.
Trilby’s gaze narrows. “That’s Nicolò’s mother.”
“She and Papa seem to be getting along.” My voice is flat because I don’t know how to feel about the idea of Papa ‘getting along’ with any woman after Mama. “Is she married?”
“She’s widowed,” Trilby enunciates carefully.
We both watch as Nicolò’s mother says something that must be funny because Papa’s face lights up and he shakes his head. My chest aches as I grapple with the turmoil of emotions the sight has stirred up in me.
Trilby turns back to me with a sigh and slides her fingers around my hand. “It’s nice that someone can make him smile.”
I swallow and give a brief nod. Of course I want Papa to be happy—I just wasn’t expecting another woman to come on the scene. I know I’m getting ahead of myself; they’ve only just met. I shake the concern from my shoulders and straighten.
“I’m going to go freshen up.”
“Sure,” she smiles. “Come find me when you’re done.”
I arch a brow. “Isn’t this your opportunity to get to know your new in-laws?”
She chews on her bottom lip. “Fine. Then come rescue me in thirty.”
“Gotcha.” I give her a wink and wind my way through various relatives-to-be and into the house.
My mind must be someplace else because as I walk through the double doors to the entrance hall, I don’t see a figure coming the other way until I’ve crashed against its chest.
A deep, rasping voice wraps around my ears. “I thought looking through gaps in doors was your thing, Castellano. How did you not see me coming?”
My gaze crawls upward, taking in a snug-fitting black shirt, thick and tan neck, and a jawline so sharp it could cut a steak. My breath escapes as I reach his eyes. They’re black from this angle and weighted down with the promise of possession.
“I wasn’t looking where I was going,” I reply, breathily. “I was thinking about other things.”