Salvatore #2
I head back to my room, stripping off my shirt and pants, leaving just my boxers.
I climb into bed, and it feels wrong immediately.
Too empty.
The sheets smell like her, which makes it worse, being surrounded by her scent without her body pressed against mine.
I close my eyes and try to sleep, but all I can think about is her.
The little gasp she makes when I first push inside her.
The way she fits perfectly in the curve of my body, like she was made for me.
The sound of her breathing when she finally surrenders to sleep, soft and even and trusting in a way that makes something primal in me roar with satisfaction.
Sleeping next to someone I care about this much has never happened before. I've shared beds with countless women. But I never wanted them to stay. Never craved their presence the way I crave hers. Never felt this fucking hollow when they weren't there.
She’s like a drug I can't quit. And I'm an addict going through withdrawal, shaking and desperate and willing to do anything for my next fix.
I'm just starting to drift off, exhaustion finally winning, when I feel it.
A dip in the mattress.
A shift of weight beside me.
My heart fucking stops.
Then her head is on my arm, her hair spilling across my chest, her body pressed against my side, and everything that was wrong suddenly clicks into place. The world rights itself.
She came.
My arm comes around her automatically, pulling her closer, she doesn't resist. Just melts into me, knowing she belongs there.
"I was looking forward to punishing you," I murmur into her hair, my voice rough with sleep and satisfaction.
"So was I," she whispers back, and I can hear the smile in her voice.
"No safe word."
"I know."
"Salvatore?" Her voice is soft, sleepy.
"Yeah, baby?"
"Do you really love me?"
“Yes, Valentina, I love you.”
She takes a soft breath, and then she’s snoring.
How can I not love this woman?
* * *
Valentina is awake and out of my room before the sun comes up. She's still upset with me, but she knows the truth. Maybe she just needs a reason to hate the monster.
I don't chase her. Not yet. Give her the morning to stew, to think, to miss me. By late afternoon, every muscle in my body is screaming at me to go to her, but I force myself to handle business first. Make her wait. Make her wonder.
When I finally move, I stop by the kitchen.
"Rosa, does Valentina have a favorite drink? Something specific?"
She looks up from the vegetables she's chopping, surprise crossing her face. "Milk tea. Thai tea, specifically. She mentioned it once. Said she hasn't had one in forever."
"Can you make one?"
"Sure, give me twenty minutes."
I leave and return twenty minutes later. She hands me a tall glass filled with orange-colored tea, ice, and a layer of cream on top. "Thanks, Rosa."
I carry it upstairs, then knock once, firm.
"I have something for you."
Silence. Then the lock clicks, and the door opens just enough for her to see me.
"What is it?" she asks, voice guarded.
I hold up the glass, my eyes locked on hers. "Thai milk tea."
Her eyes widen slightly. "How did you know I wanted one?"
"Rosa told me." I step closer to the threshold. "I plan to know everything about you, Valentina. Your favorite drinks, your favorite foods, what makes you smile, what makes you cry. All of it."
She stares at the drink, then at me. "Why?"
"Because you're mine. And I want to take care of what's mine."
She's quiet for a moment, then rolls her eyes and steps aside. "Come in."
I walk in, and she closes the door behind me. It's been too long since I've had her underneath me, and my body knows it.
She takes the drink from my hand, wraps her lips around the straw, and takes a long sip. Her eyes close for just a second, and I see some of the tension leave her shoulders.
"It's good," she admits quietly.
"I know." I watch her throat work as she swallows. "The women are gone. All three of them."
She takes another sip, eyes meeting mine over the rim. "Did you give them severance?"
"Yes. Plus references."
"Good. That's… that's good."
We stand there in loaded silence. In just the few weeks she's been here, this woman has seen every part of me. Has let me inside her body, given me access to her mind. Right now, all I want is to close the gap between us and remind her exactly who she belongs to.
"We need to talk. Come, walk with me in the garden." I don’t leave room for negotiation.
She looks at me for a long moment. "Fine. But I'm bringing this." She holds up the tea.
"Wouldn't have it any other way." I hold out my hand, palm up. Waiting.
She takes it. Her hand is small in mine, delicate. I lace our fingers together and lead her out.
We walk through the house in silence. Out the back door, past the pool, and into the garden.
We sit on a bench. I don't crowd her, but I don't retreat either. Close enough that she feels me.
"I fucked up," I say, cutting straight to it. "Not telling those women that things had changed. Keeping them around when I should have sent them packing immediately. That was on me."
She sips her tea, staring at the roses. "Why didn't you? You seem so calculated all the time, knowing exactly what to do, when to do it. Even what to say to make a girl fall for you in the craziest of situations." Her confession makes me smile.
"Honestly?" I turn to face her fully. "Because I wasn't sure what I was feeling yet. I knew I wanted you, but I didn't know how much. Didn't realize you'd become..." I pause, choosing my words carefully. "Essential."
"And now?"
"Now I know exactly what I want." I reach over and tilt her chin toward me with two fingers. "You. In my bed. In my life. No one else. I don't want convenient anymore, Valentina. I want real. I want… what we have."
She holds my gaze for a long moment before looking away.
"Lindsay asked me what I wanted. Not what you want, not what the contract says. What I actually want."
"And what did you tell her?"
"That I want to write. That I want to finish my book and go back to work and feel like I have control over my own life."
Each word lands like a challenge. I let the silence stretch, then nod slowly.
"After the wedding," I start, but she cuts me off.
"You keep saying that. Like you're dangling carrots."
"You're right." I turn to face her fully. "That changes now."
She looks at me then. "What are you saying?"
"The car's already ordered. Black Mercedes, fully loaded, arrives tomorrow. It's yours, title in your name. And if you want to go back to the library, you go back."
Her eyes widen. "You're serious."
"Yes." I lean back, draping my arm along the back of the bench behind her. Not touching, but claiming the space.
"And I'll have my assistant find you an agent. Though if he's half as sleazy as the last guy, I reserve the right to break his hands."
That gets a real smile. Small, but real.
"You can't just hurt everyone who annoys me, Salvatore."
"Watch me." I let my hand drop to her shoulder, thumb brushing the side of her neck. "Anyone who disrespects you disrespects me. I don't tolerate that."
She shakes her head, but she's still smiling. We sit in silence for a while, watching the breeze move through the rose bushes. I feel her gradually relax against me.
"The tea was a good move," she says eventually.
"I'm full of good moves. You'll learn that."
She huffs a small laugh. "I want to know everything too. About your family. Your brothers. What it was like growing up. All the things you don't talk about."
"That's going to take a while."
"I've got time."
She finishes her drink and sets the empty glass on the bench. I take it from her and place it on the ground, then pull her closer. She doesn't resist.
"I'm still angry," she says quietly. "And hurt. And I don't trust you completely yet."
"I know. I'll earn it back." Not a question. A statement of fact.
"I love you, woman," I say, low and intense. "More than I've ever loved anyone. More than I thought I was capable of. You're it for me, Valentina. The only one. Get used to it."
She leans into my touch, and I see the surrender in her eyes even as she tries to hold onto her anger.
"We're going to have to set some ground rules," she says. "Real ones. About honesty, about boundaries, about what happens when you fuck up again."
"When, not if?"
"I'm a realist."
I almost smile. "What kind of rules?"
"Complete transparency. If someone from your past shows up, I want to know immediately. If there's a threat to my safety, don't hide it from me. If you're making decisions that affect both of us, we talk about them first."
I consider this. It goes against every instinct I have to protect her from the uglier parts of my world. But she's asking for respect, not protection.
"I can do transparency on threats," I say carefully. "But some things in my world you're better off not knowing. Business things. Dark things."
"Salvatore—"
"No." I cut her off gently but firmly. "I won't lie to you. But I won't drown you in blood either. If it's business that keeps you safe, you trust me to handle it. That's the compromise."
She studies me for a long moment, then nods slowly. "Okay. But no more women in this house who you've slept with. That's non-negotiable."
"Already done." I slide my hand into her hair, gripping gently at the base of her skull. "From now on, the only woman in my bed is you. The only woman who can claim me is you. The only woman period is you. Clear?"
"Promise?"
"I don't make promises I can't keep. It's done, Valentina."
Then we sit there, and we talk. Hours pass without either of us noticing. No rush, no agenda, just conversation that flows like we've been doing this for years instead of weeks. I keep her hand in mine, thumb tracing lazy circles on her palm. She doesn't pull away.
Rosa sends out a tray of sandwiches, wine, and cloth napkins. Later, she sends dessert.