30. A Good Man
CHAPTER 30
A GOOD MAN
A ntonio
A musky, earthy odor fills my nostrils as I lead the way, sopping wet, into the old boathouse. We’d been forced to cut off the engine a few yards offshore and drag it in the remainder of the way. Serena walks behind me, her limp more noticeable after today’s fiasco. The floorboards creak with each step, escalating my pulse which only worsens the throbbing pain from the wound. Serena was right. I’d waited too long to have it dressed, and the thread was a poor substitute for real stitches. I can almost feel the infection setting in.
Ignoring the bleak thoughts, I reach for my phone and find my pocket empty. Merda , I must have dropped it in the damned lake. Can nothing go right for me this week? Muttering curses in my mind, I find a lantern hanging from the wall, and I’m shocked to find it lights up with the flick of a button. It illuminates the old structure, revealing every shadowed nook. Possibly too brightly. A newer version of our old Riva sits in the far corner beneath a large tarp and a variety of other watersports equipment fills the remainder of the space, from kayaks to water skis and tubes, it’s well-equipped for the perfect family summer vacation.
“Too bad we can’t stay and enjoy the jet ski in the morning.” As if she’s read my thoughts, her eyes pivot to the sleek wave runner.
“Yes, it is a shame.” Not that either of us could ride one in our current states.
I veer to the right, the damp, musty smell following me as I head toward a tower of lounge chairs. It’s not a bed, but they’ll do just fine. I reach for the one on top and a curse slips out as the move tears at the new stitches.
Serena darts in front of me before throwing me a scowl over her shoulder. “I’ll get that. You’re supposed to be taking it easy.”
“It’s a lawn chair. I’m not trying to bench press a car, tesoro .”
She stands on her tiptoes and hauls the thing down, grabbing some cushions from the top of the pile. Placing it on the ground between the Riva and the jet ski, she arranges the pastel peach pillows and motions for me to sit.
“Let me at least help with the other one.”
Serena shakes her head. “Sit your ass down, Antonio.”
Normally I’d obey, despite her commanding tone, but the idea of spending the night in wet clothes doesn’t sound remotely comfortable. “Do you mind if I…” I signal to my shirt which is already unbuttoned. At least the swim in the river got rid of some of the blood.
“Strip down?” Her brow lifts.
“There must be towels in here somewhere.”
“Yeah, that’s fine. Nudity doesn’t bother me.” She yanks at my sweatshirt which is sticking to her wet form. “I’d love to get out of these bad boys, too.”
I move toward the row of cabinets along the wall, and just as I’d suspected find a pile of towels. The briny scent of the lake sticks to the cotton, but at least they’re dry. I offer two to Serena before taking one for myself and leaving my gun on top of the cabinet.
At this point, Serena could have easily run away multiple times if she wanted, but she hasn’t. And if she does, I’d rather her have a weapon. I try not to think on what that means.
Without the buttons fastened, I’m able to shrug out of the shirt unassisted, thank Dio . I’m not certain I could resist her unbuttoning my shirt with only towels between us. I get to work on my pants as Serena lifts her arms and peels my sweatshirt off her wet body. Her lace bra leaves nothing to the imagination, her nipples so hard they could cut glass.
Merda . And just like that, I’m hard. Never mind the fact that the wound at my chest feels like it’s about to erupt despite the pain meds we found in the first-aid kit. I spin around before my pants drop to the floor, and she gets a front row view of my raging erection. Quickly wrapping the towel around my waist, I try to clear my mind of all lusty thoughts which is pretty damned impossible with Serena now in nothing but panties.
She knots the first towel beneath her arms and the second around her waist. Then she slips her hands beneath the fabric and shimmies out of her panties. The lace hits the floor, and heat races down to my cock.
I barely restrain a groan as she folds down to pick it up, flashing me a tempting view of her cleavage. Focus, coglione . Squeezing my eyes closed, I drop down onto the surprisingly comfortable lounger. Propping my feet up, I watch as she struggles to get the second sunbed down, my irritation flaring. I feel completely useless. This is not a sensation I’m familiar with and one that I vow never to revisit again.
Once she has the second sunbed situated beside mine, she folds onto it, placing an extra cushion at the bottom. She props up her bad foot, and my stomach dips at the sight of her ankle. All the heat rushing to my cock evaporates, replaced by icy guilt.
“ Cazzo , Serena, your ankle is twice the size it was yesterday.”
“Did you just call my foot fat?” She narrows her eyes at me, a playful smile parting her lips.
“This isn’t a joke.” That guilt expands, and I’m drowning in the knowledge that this whole fucking disaster is my fault. If I hadn’t kidnapped Serena for the sake of my own selfish vengeance, Mariuccia and Fabi would still be alive, Mamma’s beloved villa would still stand, and Serena wouldn’t have been caught in the middle of whatever the hell this is. “Fuck,” I snarl.
“I don’t usually fuck my captors, Toni.”
My gaze lifts to hers, that amusement still crinkling the corners of her eyes. Somehow, it tempers the building rage along with the suffocating guilt. “How are you taking this so well?”
She adjusts the towel, tucking it under her arm. “How else can I take it? We’re kind of stuck with each other for the next twenty-four hours, aren’t we?” She reaches for the lantern on the floor and hides it beneath the lounger, dimming the light. “Once we’re back in Milano, we go our separate ways, and this is all over.”
I nod slowly as much as I despise it. Dante was ready to pull out of the Ferrara territory as I requested. Or at least that was what Tony claimed. Had it all been an act to lull my suspicions? I thought he’d capitulated too easily…
“Antonio?”
“Hmm?”
She holds her hand out, steady gaze locked on my own. “Is it a deal? We get through this, and you release me?”
I remain silent for a long moment, not because I don’t agree with her but because the idea of letting her go makes it hard to breathe again. “Of course, tesoro .” I offer a tight smile. “It’s the least I can do considering everything I’ve put you through.”
My hand envelops hers, and I’m surprised at the tight grip. Someone has taught this woman the proper way to shake a hand. My fingers lace firmly around hers, our eyes locked for an endless moment. I’m reluctant to let go.
She finally releases me and sits back on her lounge chair with a contented sigh. “We should sleep.”
“Yes, we should.” I reach under her chair and turn off the lantern, bathing the old structure in darkness. As I retreat, my hand brushes her bare leg, and a sharp gasp echoes through the silence. “ Scusi ,” I murmur.
“No, it’s fine.” Her voice rises a few octaves. “Your hand is like ice.”
I rub my hands together, noticing the chill for the first time and yet, my body feels like it’s on fire. Maybe that ankle hadn’t extinguished all the brewing heat between us.
“Do you need another towel?” She’s up on her feet again and that damned guilt rises.
“No, I need you to stay off that foot.”
“I’m fine,” she grits out and grabs another towel from the cabinet before whirling around. “I took the rest of the pain meds in that first-aid kit, so I barely feel a thing.” She twirls around on her good foot. “See?”
The towel serving as her top comes undone, gifting me a perfect view of her breasts, despite the encroaching darkness. Bullet wound or not, I jolt straight up so I can—do the polite thing and retrieve her towel from the floor.
Forcing my gaze down, I hand it to her without meeting the eyes I can feel boring into me. Does she want me to look? No, it can’t be.
“Thanks.” She takes the towel, and only when I’m sure I’ve given her enough time to cover herself up do I lie back down. “You didn’t have to close your eyes. I told you, I’m not embarrassed by nudity, mine or anyone else’s.”
“Still…” I grind out.
“I appreciate the gentlemanly effort.”
“It’s the least you deserve.” I blow out a breath and force my lids closed. Her soft breaths fill the room, an electric buzz in the air that I just can’t ignore. I should be exhausted. I’ve been shot and nearly burned alive, but the fact that Serena is half-naked beside me has my blood pumping and my cock thickening.
I keep my eyes closed and attempt every trick to force myself to sleep, but it just doesn’t come.
“Psst, Toni, are you awake?” Serena leans closer, her sweet strawberry scent replacing the briny smell in the air.
“Yes,” I murmur.
“I can’t sleep.” She rolls over to face me, and I mirror her movement despite the pull at the stitches.
“It’s the adrenaline, just try to relax, it should pass soon.”
She sits up and slides to the edge of the lounger. “Or I can try the old bottle of Sambuca I found in that cabinet beside the towels.”
“Seriously?”
“Yup. Someone must have had a secret stash down here.” She’s on her feet before I can stop her.
“I don’t think that’s such a good idea…”
“Don’t be such a worrier. We’re safe. Who’s going to think to look for us here?” Pushing the towels aside, she unearths the hidden gem. After the day we’ve had, a little alcohol to numb the pain sounds like exactly what I need. But it would be risky and irresponsible. It wouldn’t only numb the pain but also my reaction time, and that could be the difference between life and death. For both of us.
She saunters over, her blonde hair cascading across her bare shoulders illuminated by the sliver of moon coming in through the skylight. She holds the bottle out with one hand, the other keeping her towel up. “Come on, just one drink?”
I sit up, wincing through the pain. “I don’t know?—”
“I think you owe me.”
“How will a drink make up for any of the shit I dragged you into?”
Her shoulder lifts slowly before falling. “At least we can end our little kidnapping adventure on a high note.”
My brow lifts at the flirtatious gleam in her eye. “How do you know you’d enjoy a night of drinking with me?”
“I don’t.” She drops down into the sunbed beside me and her knees brush mine. “But I’m curious to meet the old Antonio, and I think with a few drinks, I could coax him out.”
I shake my head, inhaling slowly. Even at this distance, her sweet scent invades my nostrils and whispers of heat kindle beneath the towel spread across my legs. “The old Antonio died a long time ago, tesoro . You should have let this one burn with his memories.”
Her head whips back and forth, lips screwing into a pout, before she brings the bottle to her mouth and takes a deep pull. She swallows, licking her lips, eyes pinned to mine. “I don’t agree.”
“You know nothing about me.”
“You’re wrong.” She takes another sip, eyes narrowing as she regards me. “I know that you risked your life going back into that fire to save two innocent women, I know that you killed a man who did a despicable thing to your captive, someone who is supposed to be nothing more than a bargaining chip, and I know that you despise this new version of yourself, the one you think you have to be.”
Every word spears me in the chest, a direct hit to my blackened heart. I’m a monster, how can she not see it?
My thoughts are a jumbled mess, and I can’t seem to extricate a single coherent sentence as she hands me the bottle. “Now have a drink, Toni, and I dare you to prove me wrong.”
Something snaps inside me, the years of restraint and brewing anger boil over. “Wrong? I’ll tell you exactly what kind of a man I am. Right now, even with your ankle shot to hell, the house burned down, unknown men after us, and the memories of your assault fresh in your mind, there is nothing I want more than to fuck you until you moan my name.”
Her mouth curves into a tempting capital O, and I imagine fucking those pretty pink lips, too.
“Does that sound like something a good man would want?”
“Good is highly overrated, Toni.”
And her mouth crashes into mine.