Chapter 12
CHAPTER TWELVE
~NADIA~
“ H e’s in the ground, and it’s time to move on.”
Annika rakes her hand through her long, blond hair and blows out a shaky breath. She’s sitting on the couch, her feet tucked under her, still in her black mourning dress.
Ivie sits next to me. Now that the guests have gone and it’s just the three of us, we’ve kicked off our shoes.
“I didn’t think his mom would ever leave,” I say, staring down into my wine. “She just kept going room to room, loading up everything she could into her arms like she was on a game show or something.”
“I don’t even care.” Annika turns tired eyes to me. “She can have it all.”
“And she’ll take it.” Ivie’s voice is heavy with bitterness. And I can’t blame her. “She has no right to any of it. You’re his wife.”
“Do you think I want it?” Annika demands. “I couldn’t care less about the clock he bought in Germany or any of the other fancy knickknacks he had lying around. I’d just sell or donate it all anyway. There are some papers that I need to go through myself, and I have my things, of course, but I can’t get out of here soon enough.”
“Did you say that the realtor is coming tomorrow?”
Annika nods. “I don’t know when I’ll be able to put the house on the market, but as soon as the lawyer gives me the go-ahead, I’ll list it and find something else.”
“You should buy one of those fun little condos downtown,” Ivie suggests. “Right in the heart of the hustle and bustle. You can shop, eat, go to shows or games.”
“I don’t even know if I want to stay in Denver,” she admits softly.
“What about Seattle?” Annika’s mouth firms at my suggestion. “It’s a great city, and I’m sure the Martinellis would give you the green light to live there.”
“No.”
I sigh and tip back my head. I’m done beating around the bush on this one.
“What in the hell is up with you and Rafe?”
Annika blinks rapidly, and Ivie scowls, first at me and then at our friend.
“I don’t know what you mean.”
“Oh, yeah, you do. I overheard you two in the kitchen when we were all here for dinner.”
“It’s not polite to eavesdrop, you know.”
“Yeah, well, I’m not sorry.”
“Wait.” Ivie shakes her head and sits forward. “I’m missing something. Annika had something going with Rafe ?”
“It was years ago,” Annika says with a sigh. “We were kids. We’d see each other at things like weddings and such, and we both went to college at Duke.”
“Rafe went to college at Duke?” Ivie asks, clearly impressed. “Wow.”
“There’s chemistry there,” Annika whispers. “And, yeah, we saw each other for a while. But you guys, we’re in mob families. Opposing ones. My parents would have thrown a fit.”
I frown, thinking it over. “We aren’t exactly at war with the Martinellis.”
“But we’re not on the best of terms, either. The betrothal between Alex and Elena fell through, and then they assumed our family had killed theirs for years. All of that happened at the same time. So you can’t tell me that they would have welcomed my affair with Rafe with open arms.”
I nod and shrug a shoulder. “Okay, so the timing was bad. But we’re on better terms now. And if Rafe’s who you want, I think you could make that happen.”
“I don’t want Rafe or anyone else involved in the organization.” Annika’s voice is clipped. “I never have. I thought I’d found a nice, settled, professional, and we’d live a boring, happy life in the suburbs. Look where that got me.”
“It makes sense that you’re not exactly ready to get back on the horse, so to speak, right away,” Ivie says. “There’s no rush.”
“I don’t know how I can ever trust anyone again,” Annika says. “And while I do trust Rafe, I know that he’s not the one for me. Not for the long haul.”
“Why didn’t you tell me that you had a thing going with him?” I ask her.
“Honestly, it was kind of fun to have a secret fling with someone I shouldn’t. It felt taboo and reckless. But then I fell in love with him.” She whispers the last three words, and I can’t help but cross to her and hold her hand.
What is it about the Martinelli brothers?
“But it was a long time ago, and my life has changed. And I still don’t want to be involved in the family business. He’s neck-deep in it. It wouldn’t work.”
“I understand what you mean.”
“Now, you tell us about Carmine,” Ivie says with a smile. “Come on, spill it.”
I don’t want to hold back, so I tell them everything, from my father asking me to keep an eye on Carmine, to him finding me at the resort in Miami, and everything that went down since then.
It just feels so damn good to tell someone I trust what’s going on.
“And now he’s going to take you to France?”
I nod, thinking it over. “I should talk to Papa before he goes back to Atlanta. Make sure he doesn’t have a problem with it.”
“How does it feel to be in love with Carmine?” Annika asks.
“I’m not in love with him.” I shake my head and stand to pace. “I mean, I like him. We have a good time together. The sex is crazy. And over the past few months, I’ve grown to trust him—which surprised me the most.”
“But you don’t love him.” Ivie’s tongue is in her cheek, and I glare at her.
“No. I don’t love him.”
Even I hear the lie.
“We’re enjoying each other.”
“Enjoy away,” Annika says. “You’ve earned it.”
“Right. I discovered that your husband was a killer and a drug dealer. I don’t feel like I’ve earned a posh European vacation.”
“I discovered it,” she reminds me. “It’s not your fault that I fell in love with a liar. Now, you can stop babysitting me because I’m a damn strong woman who can figure this out. And I have Ivie here. Go have crazy amazing French sex.”
I giggle. “Is French sex different from regular sex?”
“Go find out,” Ivie says. “We’ve got things handled here. I’ll keep Rich’s mom under control.”
“Oh.” I turn to her and prop my hands on my hips. “Did Shane ever call you?”
“Yeah.” A smile covers her pretty face. “We’ve talked a bit. All on the phone. He’s…interesting. Intense. Sexy as all get-out.”
“What is it about the Martinelli brothers?” I voice the question this time, and we all giggle. “They’re too sexy for their own good.”
“I’m glad I caught you.” I walk into my father’s office, shut the door, and walk around the desk to hug him. “How are you, Papa?”
“I’m always better when my daughter comes to see me.” He grins and kisses my cheek. “What are you up to, little one?”
“I just wanted to talk to you before you went back to Atlanta.” I sit on the desk next to him and let my feet dangle, the way I’ve done since I was a small girl. “I haven’t spent much time with you in a while.”
“You’ve been busy,” he says, leaning back in his wide leather chair. “I hope you’re planning to take some time off now.”
“Actually, that’s what I wanted to talk to you about.” I clear my throat. “Carmine invited me to go to France with him for a couple of weeks.”
Something sparks in my father’s eyes, but then he blinks, and it’s gone.
“And did you accept?”
“Yes, but I thought I should run it by you, in case it’s something you’d rather I not do.”
“You’re an adult, Nadia. You can spend time with whomever you choose.”
My eyes find his. “You know that isn’t true.”
Papa takes a long, deep breath. “It’s true. There are men that I would not be okay with you spending time with. Like Billy Sergi.”
“ I’d not be okay if I spent time with him.” I wrinkle my nose. “The little worm.”
“I hope you enjoy yourselves,” Papa says. “There’s a restaurant on the Seine that I highly recommend.”
“Thank you.” I bend down and kiss his cheek again. “I miss you, Papa. When I get back, let’s spend a weekend together.”
“I’d love nothing more, little one. Be safe. Tell Carmine I’ll break both his legs if even a hair is disturbed on my precious daughter’s head.”
I laugh, but I know the threat is real. “No need to be violent. I’d better go pack. I think we’re leaving this evening.”
“Nadia.”
I turn back to him with raised brows. “Yes, Papa.”
“I love you.”
“I love you, too.”
“I think that’s it.” I walk through the Airbnb, making sure that I didn’t forget anything. “I brought more than I thought.”
“We shopped in New York,” Carmine reminds me as he sets our suitcases by the front door.
“Ah, yes, how could I forget New York?”
He catches my hand and pulls me against him, then nibbles the side of my mouth. I immediately turn to mushy goo.
This man is potent.
“We’re trying to leave,” I remind him. “Not get naked again.”
“I’ll get you naked on the plane.”
He lets go, and I stare after him. “On the plane ? But we won’t be alone.”
“Close enough. And I have a very discreet staff.”
And with that, he walks out the door, pulling two of the suitcases behind him, a backpack slung over his broad shoulder.
It’s unfair that simply toting luggage is sexy on this man.
I grab my smaller bag, my handbag, and one last roller suitcase and let the door close behind me.
Our time in Denver is over. Now, we’re on to France.
Denver International Airport is quite far from the city, so I sit back, expecting at least a forty-five-minute drive, but the driver leaves the freeway sooner than expected and takes us to a smaller airfield closer to the city.
“This is easier,” Carmine says simply. He’s holding my hand, softly rubbing his thumb over my knuckles.
Now that our attention has turned from finding a killer to just enjoying each other, he’s much more physically affectionate than he was. And that’s saying something because Carmine’s always been handsy.
Not that I’m complaining. A girl could do far worse than having Carmine Martinelli’s hands on her.
I’m not typically an affectionate woman, but with Carmine, the rules seem to fly out the window.
“This plane is bigger.” I glance at Carmine. “You have two private jets?”
“No.” He leans over and kisses my nose. “We have two private jets and a helicopter. Rocco flies the ‘copter. I usually prefer the smaller plane, but this one is more appropriate for trans-Atlantic travel.”
“Oh, right. Yes, it’s better for trans-Atlantic travel. ” I press my lips together so I don’t laugh. I love teasing him. “You’re so fancy.”
“And you’ve just earned your first spanking.”
He doesn’t even look at me. Doesn’t smile. He just steps out of the car and offers me his hand.
I don’t bother sputtering a protest.
The ground crew is already loading our luggage onto the plane. We’re greeted at the top of the stairs by a man in his fifties, wearing a simple black suit and a red tie. His hair is silver, threaded through with just a few dark strands, and he has a bushy mustache over his top lip.
He looks like someone’s grandfather.
“Good evening, Mr. Martinelli. Ms. Tarenkov. It’s a pleasure to have you aboard tonight. Please, make yourselves comfortable.”
“Thank you, Charles,” Carmine says with a nod. “Please let the pilot know that we’re ready whenever he’s given the okay to take off.”
“Of course, sir.”
I smile at the polite Charles and follow Carmine down a short hallway to a lounge area on the plane. There are cream-colored leather couches, a faux fireplace with a television hung above it, and a wet bar.
“We’ll spend most of the next nine hours or so in here, but there’s a bedroom back there.” He points and then leads me farther back on the plane to show me a small bedroom with a king-sized bed and little else. “In case you want to sleep. Or…other things.”
“I liked the couches,” I reply and turn on my heel to return to the lounge. I sit, fasten my seatbelt, and pull my iPad out of my bag.
Carmine sits across from me just as Charles returns with a tray in his hands.
“What can I get you to drink?”
“Just water for me,” Carmine says.
“A Coke would be lovely.”
Charles nods regally and turns to the wet bar to fetch us our drinks. Carmine holds my gaze with his as Charles fills glasses, delivers them to us, and then walks back to the galley.
“I could have gotten this myself if I’d known it was right there.”
“Charles enjoys his job,” Carmine replies. “We have lots of food aboard, as well, and he’ll serve us dinner. And breakfast in the morning.”
“Just like first class.”
“Admit it. This is much better than first class.”
I smirk into my glass. “It’s a small step up.”
Carmine’s brown eyes are full of humor when Charles returns with menus so we can choose our entrées for dinner, and then the plane begins to move.
Within just a few minutes, we’re airborne.
Once we’ve reached cruising altitude, Carmine unclips his seatbelt and moves over next to me. But rather than kiss me, or hold me against him, he simply holds out his hand.
“Give me your foot.”
“Which one?”
“You choose.”
I raise my left foot, and he starts to knead my arch with his thumb. I moan and lean my head back, closing my eyes as I enjoy the best foot rub of my life.
“You’re good with your hands.”
“I’m good with a lot of things,” he reminds me. “I plan to spend the next nine hours reminding you.”
“I’m so glad I’m getting a refresher course.” I snort. “I think I’ve forgotten everything.”
“You’re extra sassy tonight.”
I don’t lift my head off the seat, but I turn to look at him. “I’m sorry. I don’t mean to be difficult.”
“I’m not complaining. You were tense in Denver. Worried. And as soon as we got on this plane, it was as though a huge weight was lifted.”
“That’s how it felt.” I sigh, letting the tension from the last couple of weeks go. “I’m glad it’s over. Still, I hurt for Annika. But we had a great talk last night, and I know she’s going to be okay.”
“She’s going to be amazing. And now it’s time for you to rest, relax, and let me take care of you for a while.”
“I’m perfectly capable?—”
He covers my mouth with his, playfully at first, but then it turns intense, and all I can do is grip onto him and return the kiss.
Finally, he pulls away and kisses my chin lightly. “Just enjoy, Nadia. For once in your life, don’t overthink it.”
“You talked me into it.”