Chapter Fifty-Four
Gualtiero
Idon’t move away from her lips. I can’t.
Kissing her is the only thing I want to be doing, and here in this hospital room I can, without interruptions. At least for now.
Even when we break for air, the need to stay connected wins out. Our foreheads rest together as we breathe the same air.
“You’re wearing too many clothes,” my angel murmurs, biting her lip. “I want to feel your skin on mine.”
A slow smile spreads across my face. “You have no idea how much I agree.”
I slide off the bed just enough to unbutton my shirt, letting her watch. Not to tease or seduce, but simply because I like the way her eyes follow me as if I’m the only thing in the world worth looking at.
Her breathing changes as more of my skin is revealed.
My gaze drifts over her bare body, and my chest tightens at the sight of her.
God, I want to worship her. Devour her. Lose myself in her.
But Dr. Barnes’ words echo too loudly in my head.
Keep her body calm. No strain. No sexual activity.
And for once, desire takes a back seat to something far more powerful. Her safety and that of our baby.
We have the rest of our lives to enjoy each other.
Still, I step out of my pants and boxers and join her on the bed. I want no barriers between us, no fabric, no distance, nothing between my skin and hers.
Our lips meet.
Soft. Slow. Unhurried.
I brush my nose against hers. “I’m so happy you’re mine.”
She smiles against my mouth. “Haven’t I always been?”
“Yes,” I whisper. “And I’ve always been yours.”
She sighs, content, her fingers trailing lazily down my torso.
“You really picked the worst day to propose,” she murmurs. “We can’t even celebrate properly.”
I laugh softly. “We have forever to celebrate. Tonight is about being close.”
Her eyes soften at that.
“And I do believe tonight is the perfect timing,” I tell her quietly.
“You said that already.”
I lift her hand and kiss the ring now resting on her finger.
“It’s perfect because it has you and me in it. And that’s all we ever need. No matter where. No matter when.”
She beams at me like I just gave her the world.
And maybe I did.
Her hand slides further down my front, and even though I don’t want it to, my body reacts instantly.
I gently still her wrist, bringing her hand back to my chest.
“Not tonight, angel,” I whisper against her lips. “We need to behave.”
She laughs softly, resting her forehead against mine.
“You’re no fun.”
“I’m being responsible,” I murmur. “And I hate it.”
She smiles, clearly loving that. Then a yawn escapes her.
After today’s ordeal, she needs rest.
I pull the blanket over us and tuck her closer against my body.
My fingers trace slow patterns over her arm, her shoulder, her collarbone as I kiss her temple, her cheek, her hair. Everything I do is unhurried, deliberate, meant to soothe her into sleep.
It’s not sexual in any way. And yet, this feels more intimate than anything we could have done.
She rests her head on my chest, her hand over my heart, my hand covering hers.
“My fiancée,” I murmur, brushing a kiss over her eyelids.
She smiles lazily without opening her eyes. “I like that word.”
“I prefer wife.”
“Patience, Signor De Marco.”
I chuckle quietly and press another kiss into her hair.
Her body gradually relaxes, her breathing deepening as she drifts off.
I keep up the slow, gentle movements, loving how we’re tangled together beneath the blanket, skin to skin, breathing each other in.
Holding her like this, feeling her soften against me, knowing she and our baby are safe…
I’ve never felt more complete in my life.
The ringing of a phone pulls me from sleep.
For a moment, I don’t move. My body feels heavy in the best possible way, warm, loose, deeply content.
Then I feel her.
My angel is sprawled across my chest, the hand with her engagement ring resting over my stomach.
My eyes fix on it.
The sapphire catches the early light, and a slow, unfamiliar warmth spreads through me.
It wasn’t a dream.
She said yes to being mine forever.
A quiet satisfaction settles into my bones, the kind that makes me want to close my eyes and fall back asleep just to stay inside this feeling a little longer.
The phone rings again on the nightstand.
Careful not to disturb her, I reach for it.
Uberto’s name flashes on the screen.
“Hold on,” I answer quietly.
I ease Ella off me, slide out of bed, and pull the blanket up to cover her naked body before stepping away.
“Speak,” I say. This better be good. It’s barely six in the morning.
“We got the identity of the fake nurse. Luke Rossini, Chicago mob,” Uberto says. “Just released from prison after two years for assault.”
Chicago?
Why would anyone in Chicago target my heir?
“Who does he work for?”
“Romeros.”
And there is my answer.
I shouldn’t have waged war against them alongside Maximo in Chicago. That kind of move never goes unnoticed.
But why come after me here in remote Canada?
Or more specifically, why target our baby?
Max’s family should be the obvious choice.
I don’t understand. Not yet.
But one thing is clear.
Ella now has a new target on her back.
Fuck.
And this, right after I cleared out every enemy at home to make it safer for her.
I need to get her back to the island. Only then will I be able to breathe again. At least until I can set up our new life.
A knock on the door makes me close my eyes briefly. So much for enjoying my angel and our engagement.
“Find him,” I order Uberto, and end the call.
I pull on last night’s clothes and head for the door. Before opening it, I glance back to make sure Ella is fully covered.
“Boss,” Antonio greets me. “Dougal just had word from his office. They identified the nurse. He’s—”
“A Romero soldier,” I cut in. “I just spoke to Uberto.”
“According to Dougal, he’s already been spotted boarding a plane back to Chicago.”
I grind my teeth. Freemont Security may be a step ahead, but the information is what matters.
“Call Maximo. Tell him to collect Rossini when he lands and to hold him for me.”
“Why would the Chicago mob be after our baby?”
Ella’s voice cuts through the room.
I turn.
She’s sitting upright now, the blanket pulled to her shoulders so only her head is visible.
Antonio wisely keeps his eyes on me.
“The Romero family has always been the archenemy of the De Marco family in Chicago,” he explains.
Ella tilts her head, confusion written all over her face. “Why would that make me a target? What am I missing?”
I look back at Antonio. “Call Maximo. Let me know if there are any problems. And have the cars ready out front. We’re leaving as soon as Ella gets the all clear.”
Antonio nods and steps out. I close the door behind him.
When I turn back, Ella is watching me with a scowl.
Time to tell her what I’ve been doing since she fled Italy, even if this still doesn’t fully explain what happened.