Chapter 27 #2
Then he shifted, lowering himself to her and Catarina wrapped her arms around his neck, breathing in the pure, masculine scent of him as her fingers touched his neck, his ears, his hair…anything she could reach. She needed to feel him, to touch him and know that he was her man.
“Brownies,” he groaned, lifting slightly, but still pressing his chest against hers.
“Brownies?” she muttered, the word not making much sense.
“Yeah,” he said, then brushed a kiss against her lips. He jerked his head towards the plate that just happened to be mere inches away from her ear. “You made me brownies.”
“Ah!” was all she could say. He shifted, pulling away from her.
Carefully, she sat up, gripping his shoulders as he pulled her closer to him, not letting her go completely yet.
“Can I try one of your brownies now?” he asked, his voice all grumbly and sexy as he nibbled on her neck.
She smiled, but shook her head. “No. I don’t want you to try these. I’m not sure if they’re good enough yet.” She sighed and pushed against his hips. He pulled out of her and she suddenly realized that he hadn’t used protection. “Um…Sal?” she prompted.
“Yeah?” he asked, still with one arm around her waist as he reached behind her to grab one of the still-warm brownies. He took a bite, then groaned. “Damn! These are amazing!” He chewed, then kissed her before going back to take another bite.
“Sal?” she started again, pressing against his chest, eager to jump down from his desk. He wasn’t moving and, if Sal didn’t want to move, he wasn’t moving.
“Have you tried them yet?”
“Sal!” she snapped, more emphatic this time.
“What’s wrong?” he demanded, the brownie moving away from his mouth and he looked at her, concern on his features now.
“You…uh…didn’t use protection.”
He stilled for a long moment, then shrugged. “We haven’t discussed kids.” He put the brownie down and shifted, but still kept her close.
That was fine with her. Catarina needed his strength at this moment. “We haven’t,” she agreed. She couldn’t look at him. Not yet. “I should get on birth control.”
Catarina knew that was the right response, but she couldn’t hide the bubble of hope that started to form inside of her.
A child? Was that the right thing to do?
Nothing felt finalized about her marriage.
She knew that she was falling in love with Sal, but she also knew that her father would still come after her.
Sal was most likely protecting her from her father’s machinations, but he would cause trouble.
And would that mean she’d be sent away somewhere?
Her father hadn’t ever had the patience to deal with her. She’d known that from the moment she’d been shipped off to boarding school.
He grabbed a tissue and cleaned her up, not allowing her to do it herself. The whole time, she was silent, tense.
“I want kids, Cata,” he blurted out. “I want pretty girls who look just like you.” He took her into his arms. “I would also love little boys who could take over my businesses.” He kissed her when she opened her mouth to argue.
“The legitimate ones. I don’t give a damn if our kids take over the less savory aspects of what I do.
I can pass that on to one of my capos who would be more than happy to run that side of the business. ”
She cupped his face with her hands, touched by his words. “It sounds like you’ve thought this through.”
“Actually, it only occurred to me now,” he argued. “How do you feel?’
She grinned and twisted slightly, taking a corner of the brownie and popping it into her mouth. “I think,” she said, chewing the chocolatey goodness, “that I don’t know how to be a good mother. I never had a mother figure in my life.”
“But you’re a good person,” he argued, then sighed. “We probably should have had this conversation before I risked it,” he said, leaning his forehead against hers. “I blame it on you.”
“Me?” she gasped, leaning back and laughing slightly because she could tell he was teasing her. “How is this my fault?”
“You came in here with brownies,” he pointed out, then lifted the half-eaten dessert to his mouth and took another bite. “Also, you touched yourself.” Shaking his head, he stepped back, extending a hand to help her off of his desk.
Catarina jumped down, then smoothed her dress.
Suddenly, she realized that she didn’t have underwear on.
He zipped up the back of her dress, pausing to plant a sensuous kiss on the bared skin of her shoulder.
When her dress was closed, he ran his hands down her arms, holding her with her back against his chest. “Do you want kids?”
She thought about it for a moment, then nodded. “Yeah. But my father,” she started, only to be stopped by his hand on her stomach.
“I’ll handle your father,” he told her firmly, his tone pure command. “You just keep on making brownies.”
Catarina laughed, the sound bubbling out before she could stop it. Turning primly, she laced her fingers together as if she were a schoolgirl giving a recital. “That’s it? My great contribution to this household is baked goods?”
“Yes,” he deadpanned, leaning back in his chair. “Preferably warm. With extra chocolate.”
Her lips parted in mock outrage, though her eyes sparkled. “I’d like to work,” she blurted.
The words startled her as much as him. Where had that come from? She’d grown up knowing she was nothing more than her father’s bargaining chip. That her life would be about obedience, appearances, and whatever man Enrico handed her off to.
Sal studied her for a beat, then stood, circling his desk with slow, measured steps. He sat down again, unhurried, and snagged another brownie from the plate. He bit into it, watching her with amused eyes as she stood awkwardly in front of him.
“What do you want to do?” he asked at last.
She blinked. “I…don’t know.” Shock rippled through her—because he hadn’t laughed, hadn’t waved her off, hadn’t told her to stay in her pretty cage.
“Well,” he said around another bite, his tone maddeningly casual, “when you figure it out, tell me. I’ll make sure you’re safe while you do it.”
Her lips curved into a shy smile. The idea of doing something—anything—more than standing at his side during dinner parties made her heart flutter. “Really?”
He shrugged. “Cata, if you want to spend your days getting your nails done and shopping, then do it. I don’t care.”
“You wouldn’t care if I spent all your money?” she teased, arching a brow.
He rolled his eyes. “I dare you to try.”
That pulled a genuine laugh from her, though it faltered when she realized just how much wealth Sal commanded.
More than her father ever dreamed of. The thought sobered her, but only for a moment.
Because under all of this…she didn’t want to be a spoiled princess.
She wanted to matter. To make her life mean something.
What that “something” was, she still didn’t know.
“I’ll think about it and get back to you,” she said lightly, spinning toward the door. But she froze when her gaze landed on the rug. On her torn panties from earlier.
Her face flamed just as a knock sounded.
“Come in!” Sal called lazily, the devil.
Catarina gasped, diving down to snatch the scrap of fabric just as Tony stepped inside. His face was grim, though he gave a respectful nod when he saw the scene was—at least outwardly—innocent.
Catarina kept her head down, clutching her panties in her fist like contraband as she darted past him. She didn’t have to look back to know Sal was smirking like the arrogant bastard he was.
So she did the only thing she could think of—she spun at the doorway, lifted her free hand, and called out sweetly, “Thanks, cutie!”
She laughed with wicked delight at the way Sal instantly shoved back his chair, clearly ready to come after her. But before he could, she slammed the door shut and hurried down the hall, grinning like a fool.
Her panties were balled in her hand. Her heart was racing. And for the first time in her life, teasing a man felt like freedom.