32. SCARLET
It's getting late. Nervously, I look at the display on my phone again. It's almost ten.
Vito and Gigi arrived here almost four hours ago. Vito wouldn't say anything other than that Antonio was delayed and would meet us here. Gigi is just as tense as I am, turning to look at the clock on the mantle as often as I check my phone.
"Delayed by what?" She asks Vito for the fifth time.
His expression is guarded. Even if Gigi hadn't told me about their relationship, the unmistakable love in his eyes when he looks at her would clue me in.
He's head over heels for her. If I weren't so worried about Antonio right now, I would analyze the situation more.
There is no way in hell Antonio doesn't know about their relationship.
He is the most perceptive man I've ever met, which leaves the question of why he hasn't said or done anything wide open.
But like I said, I'm way too worried to dive in and open that particular can of worms.
"Business," Vito answers Gigi's question. I don't know him very well, or at all, but even the tone of his voice is different when he talks to her.
"Oh, this is unbearable," Gigi laments, throwing her arms up in the air.
"Why don't you go take a bath?" Vito suggests.
"A bath? A bath, he says," Gigi looks at me for support. "Next, he'll tell me to take a Xanax and drink a bottle of wine."
"I'm sorry," I snort, hiding my face in one hand and waving my other in apology. But I can't help it. It's most likely hysterical laughter, but the outrage on Gigi's face is just too much.
She mock glares, thankfully sounding more amused now.
Vito snorts as well, and that just makes me laugh harder.
"Well, aren't you two just a peachy pair?" Gigi scolds.
I keep waving my hand, I want to stop laughing, but Vito's laughter makes it nearly impossible.
"Oh, for crying out loud, some friends I have," she laments, which only makes Vito and me laugh harder. Finally, she breaks down, too, and her laughter joins ours. I don’t know how it happened, but for some reason, all three of us are holding each other up, laughing as if we'd just been told the most hilarious joke ever.
"Looks like I missed an invitation to a party," a sharp voice rips us apart.
"Toni!" Gigi squeals, freeing herself from Vito and my embrace and running into her brother’s arms.
Vito steps instantly back from me, and my eyes are glued to the man who just entered.
His black hair is wet and slicked back, and the arms of his shirt are rolled up, exposing strong, sinewed forearms. His muscles flex as he presses Gigi against him.
His eyes, however, search me out. The moment they meet mine, my heart stutters.
My left hand flies to my chest, while my right looks for support on one of the sofa headrests because my legs have turned to Jell-O.
Gigi clings to him in happiness, while I just take him in. He looks like he hasn't slept in days, and a several-day dark stubble grows on his chin and cheeks, making him look even more dangerous than ever.
I realize how stupid it sounds. We've only known each other for a little while, days, really.
But if I didn't know any better, I would have said that I'm just as head over heels for him as Gigi is for Vito.
I can't look away from him. I can't stop staring, as if he were a masterpiece of art that I'll only get a glimpse of before it's taken away forever.
I soak up every little detail. And I don't miss the dried blood on his pants and shirt.
Whatever happened, wherever he’s been… whatever he did… it doesn’t matter to me. Not in the slightest. He could have burned an entire town to the ground, and it wouldn’t change a thing. The only thing that matters is that he’s here, that he's back. He is all that I care about.
He whispers something in Gigi's ear, and she reluctantly lets go of him. He starts walking over to me, and my heart picks up speed. Suddenly, I feel all shy, with first-day girlfriend jitters. What do I do? Embrace him? Kiss him? Where I was cold before, sweat trickles down my back, because I have no idea what to do. His dark eyes burn with an intensity that nearly robs me of my breath. No matter how much I want to, I can’t move. Rooted, I stay by the chair.
He stops just two feet from me and takes me in. "You're a sight for sore eyes, Bellissima."
With that, he puts his hand around my waist and twirls me around in one of those moves you see in old movies, bending me backward. With the other hand, he grabs hold of my head, pushes it up, and meets my lips in the most intense kiss of my life.
I'm simply hanging on his arm, unable to support one bit of myself. My heart feels ready to beat right out of my chest, and my blood feels like thick, hot lava pulsing through my veins.
My lips part the moment his make contact. His tongue enters like a conquering army as he stakes his claim on me. And I'm all too willing to surrender. Fully and entirely. I want this man. I want him more than I've ever wanted anything, and I'm willing to do anything to keep him.
Nobody makes me feel like him. Safe, secure, sexy, desired, wanted, beautiful, and most of all—his.
Before I realize what's happening, the hand that was in my hair moves down behind my knees, and he picks me up bridal style. Never stopping the kiss, he carries me out of the room.
"Boss?" Vito's voice is hesitant, but he manages to sound urgent.
Antonio starts up the stairs, waving at Vito with the hand supporting my waist. I hear Gigi giggle, but all that gets further and further away as my body melts into Antonio’s.
The irony that this mafia man is the most romantic man I've ever met isn't lost on me.
Not that I care. All the things—law, propriety, morals—leave me one by one as Antonio claims my heart with each passing day.
He takes me back into his bedroom, where he places me on the bed. "I missed you," he says, looking me up and down.
"I missed you too," I smile.
"I need to take a shower, but I promise, as soon as I'm done, I'm all yours."
"Hmm, I like the sound of that," I reply, deepening my smile.
"Don’t look at me like that," he shakes his head and begins to take his cufflinks off. My eyes follow his movement and find dark spots on his white shirt sleeves.
"Is that blood?"
"Shit." He tries to cover the sleeves, but I jump up.
"Don't," I stop him from turning around. "I don't want you to hide anything from me, Antonio. Ever."
His green eyes scrutinize mine, and he stares down at me like he wants to see the bottom of my soul.
"As long as it's not yours, I don't care," I say, running my hand up and down his arm.
He leans forward and kisses me. "Scarlet, you are the most amazing woman I've ever met."
"I'm not sure about that, but I'm working on it."
His lips open like he's about to say something, but then he shakes his head. "Shower," he mumbles, like he needs to remind himself.
On his way to the bathroom, he notices the two suitcases and turns back to me, "You didn't like what Gigi got you?"
"Oh no, I love it! Thank you, by the way. I'm sure you had more important things on your mind?—"
He raises his hand, "Then why are they here?"
"What do you mean?" He's confusing me.
"There's an empty closet right there," he points at the large Hers walk-in closet.
"I…" I'm not sure what to say. I didn't want to assume anything, so I kept all the things Gigi brought me in the suitcases, making sure not to leave a trace of my presence in the bathroom.
"Passerotta," he breaches the distance between us in a few steps and folds me into his arms, "I want you to feel at home here."
I still don't know what to say, so I just nod against his chest.
He lifts my chin with his knuckles, "I don't know how long you'll have to stay here, but for however long, I want you to be comfortable."
I swallow down a flood of tears threatening to flow out.
I don't know how long you'll have to stay here, but for however long, his words play on repeat inside my head.
Over and over. For a moment there, when he said he wanted me to move my things into the closet, I thought…
I thought… silly stuff. Stupid things. Yes, this man is burrowing himself deeper inside me than anybody ever has, changing me, but that doesn't mean he wants me to move in with him. It's not even been a week yet.
"Okay," I choke out, managing to keep the tears down and the hurt from my face.
He tilts his head, scrutinizing me, but then his phone rings.
"Go ahead, take it," I tell him, glad over the interruption. The last thing I want is for him to see me crying. Over nothing , my mind reprimands. Even if you were dating him for real, you wouldn't be moving in with him after knowing him for a few days.
That actually makes me feel better. I have no idea why I'm being this emotional.
To the side of me, Antonio is speaking in rapid Italian to someone, so quickly that I only make out a few hissed words, like keep an eye on him , report, and morning . He hangs up and turns back to me, "Now, you were saying?"
"That you need a shower," I remind him.
"Alright, but first," he picks up both suitcases like they weigh nothing and takes them into the closet. I follow with a grin on my face. Maybe I'm not moving in today, but that doesn't mean I won't one day…
That thought entertains me long enough to give Antonio a few minutes in the shower, before I decide it’s a good time to let out the new Scarlet a little more and toss the new clothes from my body to the ground.