Chapter 45
Camillo Vicari
La Sorgente Beach
Reggio Calabria, Calabria, Italy
The sun shone down on her hair, and I was certain that not even gold could replicate that color. It was like melted stars.
I liked her. Cazzo, did I like her.
I loved her sass, her natural cheerfulness, her sweet southern accent. The delicate shape of her eyes and the blonde of her hair. The way she smiled and the taste of her mouth. I loved every little bit of her and couldn’t understand how I could have let that happen.
Claiming her for myself had been a mistake.
It threw me face-first into the truth I’d been trying to escape: I felt alive again, thanks to Daisy.
My heart pounded wildly in her mere presence.
It wasn’t just lust. It was something deeper and uncontrollable.
Something I didn’t believe I deserved, but didn’t intend to let slip away.
Last night, the image of my bambino had come to haunt me again. As had become the routine, I saw him in my dreams, alive and grown. His little arms wide open as he ran toward me. His jade eyes identical to mine. In one instant, I crouched down to receive him. In the next, I shot him in the head.
Every night for the past eight years, I had begged him for forgiveness. A forgiveness I would never have, because there are crimes beyond redemption, and a man must live with them forever, serving his sentence.
But the last thing I had expected was to be awakened from my torment by Daisy.
Waking from that nightmare to find her there was like staring into the eyes of Guilt itself, watching as it pointed an accusing finger directly at my heart. Her understanding words turned my remorse into a thicket of sharp thorns and made me feel like the most selfish of human beings.
How could I want someone so pure so badly? How could I want to hold that woman tightly when my son’s blood was still dripping from my hands?
I would never believe that sincere regret was enough to erase what I had done. And I wondered what she would do if she discovered the whole truth. Would she run away? Would she hate me? Would she be disgusted by me? Anything was possible. Still, I didn’t feel capable of letting her go.
The mere thought that my Piccola Furetta might go far away from me stole the air from my lungs.
I fixed my gaze on the yellow bikini she was wearing.
It hugged her body perfectly, revealing her modest curves, and sent shivers down my spine.
She was sitting next to me on the sand, her legs slightly bent and her arms resting on her knees.
The breeze blew her hair back, while her peridot eyes scanned the sea in front of us, and the morning sun kissed her golden skin.
I looked around us.
Luca had done a splendid job. The beach was empty, just as he’d intended. I wanted to be alone with Daisy. To seize that opportunity. To make amends with her and with life.
I hadn’t done anything else these past few days but try to find a way to repair the damage. I’d given her space.
I knew how much I’d hurt her and how much time she’d needed to recover. I was grateful to Luca and Donatella Condello for that. When I’d seen her on the cameras, running off to the housekeeper’s cottage, I’d called my head of security and asked him to go after her for me.
It hadn’t been easy to admit to Luca what I’d done.
He was like an uncle. He’d been in my life for as long as I could remember and had always looked out for all of us.
He was famiglia, even though we weren’t related by blood.
Seeing the disappointment on his face when I revealed how I’d treated Daisy after taking her for myself hadn’t been pleasant.
Hearing him describe the state in which he’d found her hadn’t been any better.
After my parents died because I’d chosen the wrong woman, and after I’d put a bullet in my own son’s brain, I didn’t believe I deserved any happiness.
But the truth was, it had appeared in the form of that American woman.
Daisy had come along and revived a part of me.
And if life had put her in my path even after everything, maybe… maybe I was meant to keep her.
The day before, I’d believed for a moment that I’d lost her for good.
When she begged me not to let us be more than that, it was as if a sharp claw were tearing my insides apart.
However, meeting her eyes in the middle of the night, holding her in my arms, close to my chest, pulling me out of a nightmare that had haunted me for far too long, had filled me with that hope I didn’t deserve.
Hope of having her. Of being man enough to deserve everything she was and stood for.
No, I wasn’t going to let go of my Piccola Furetta.
I would prove to Daisy that she had never been collateral damage in my life and never would be. Much less a mere moment of pleasure.
I looked at the crystal-clear water, at the lazy waves. “It’s pretty hot.” I began by saying, watching her face turn slightly toward me. “Let's go for a swim?”
I saw the hesitation in her gaze. The way her body shrank back at my suggestion. I didn’t want to wait, much less give her a chance to say no. I stood up and gently took her wrist, pulling her with me to the water’s edge.
Daisy let herself be guided, and I felt as though I’d won some kind of prize just for having the warmth of her body against mine again. Despite the night we spent together, I felt there was still some kind of wall between us.
An abyss I had dug with my own hands.
I had her wherever I wanted, however I wanted. But I threw it all away because my pride had been more important. Because I had refused to believe that there was once again a woman in my life, awakening my interest and making my heart race.
Now, all that was left was to fill the void I created.
I walked into the water, letting go of her.
It was lukewarm, and I took a deep breath before diving in.
I loved swimming, feeling the salty sea water fill my lips when I resurfaced, feeling the waves lapping against my skin.
I turned back toward the shore, running my fingers through my hair, and saw Daisy standing in the same spot.
The high-waisted bottoms of her yellow bikini accentuated the delicate curve of her waist, and the top, a small yellow bandeau, made her round breasts stand out. She looked enchanting in it.
And in the midst of that landscape, on that beach surrounded by rocks and low-lying vegetation, with its sand and clear waters, she looked like some kind of paradisiacal dream.
“Aren’t you coming?” I asked, wanting her close to me.
She nodded very slowly and stepped into the water. When the waves kissed her waist, she plunged in and swam toward me with a few strokes.
“Is it normal for this place to be deserted?” she asked beside me, the water lapping at her shoulders. “I mean, it’s August. In Italy. Isn’t this supposed to be packed with tourists?” she pointed out, her tiny peridot eyes fixed on the sand.
I sighed and smiled. “Sì. But I made sure it would be empty today, just for us.”
She turned around very suddenly, gaping. “You cleared out a beach? Just like that?”
My heart raced at the sight of the sassy woman I adored so much, always with that defiant expression and upturned nose.
Piccola Furetta.
I allowed myself a satisfied smile. “What can I say? I have some influence.”
“Uh-huh.” She turned her gaze back to the sand, a hand shielding her eyes from the sun. “How many people did you have to blackmail to get your way? Or did you kill anyone in the process?”
I laughed and lay back against the calm waves, letting the sea rock me. “No one died and no one was blackmailed.”
“Wow. So it was just a monetary bribe?” She continued to tease, oblivious to how happy even the most absurd of her taunts made me. “Don’t tell me you’re losing your murderous streak.”
I dove under, surfacing seconds later to stare at her. She was standing still; the ruffled straps of her swimsuit top had slipped down, now revealing her sun-kissed shoulders.
I moved closer and couldn’t resist running my fingers along the curve of her shoulders, immediately seeing how her nipples were pressing against the fabric of her bikini.
I smiled. “All the qualities are still here…” I purred and grabbed her by the waist just as she tried to pull away. “All of them.”
‘Let’s not be more than this’ my ass. She and I would be everything.
Before she could escape, my lips met hers, and the water helped me lift her up to my height. I kissed her slowly, one arm locked around her waist and the other pressed against her back. Daisy barely resisted, parting her lips to welcome me, and I savored her mouth again.
Sweet, warm, velvety.
I breathed in her scent of strawberries and chamomile, now mingling with the sea air, and pressed my body closer to hers, feeling her breasts pressed against my bare chest.
When my tongue left the warmth of her mouth, I pressed my lips to her chin in a lingering kiss, and trailed down the line of her jaw, tracing a path to her neck.
Daisy moaned softly. “Camillo, no.” She tried to push me away with weak hands, but the rest of her body was betraying her, surrendering to my touch. “Please, not again—”
“I won’t repeat my mistakes, Piccola Furetta.” I purred in her ear, sliding my tongue along the curve of her ear. “I'll mend what I broke.”
Not wanting her to have time to look for more excuses, my hands slid down to the back of her thighs and lifted her into the air. I wrapped her legs around my hips, and the thin fabric of our swimwear was a poor barrier against the heat blooming between her thighs and the heavy ache of my erection.
I kissed her, and she clung tightly to my neck, holding on so she wouldn’t fall, returning the kiss with equal fervor.
Dio, I needed her. To be inside her.