Black Hearted (The Margarelli Brothers 1)

“How is your back?” I asked with a sigh. “Did the rug scratch your skin too badly?”

“No.” She shifted and winced. “Well, maybe a little.”

“Okay,” I said, finally motivated to get up and move. “Let’s get you showered and have lunch with Angelique. After I rub some cream on that sweet little ass of yours.”

“Oh, so you are staying, then?” she asked archly.

“After that? I may never leave,” I told her with a quick kiss.

She laughed, but I was not joking in the least. Even with the collar and tracking device, I didn’t want to let her out of my sight. Not for a fucking second.

I didn’t mention that I’d had security cameras installed on all the buildings facing her home. The entire block was covered. And a few blocks out.

It had cost a fortune, but it was more than worth it.

I would do anything to keep her safe. Especially if I could do it without pissing her off. My woman’s temper was formidable, to say the least.

We dressed quickly and stood, looking at each other before opening the door and returning to reality. We both laughed at the same moment. There would be no doubt to anyone who saw us what we had just done. There was no hope of hiding it. Not in the slightest.

Never mind the patrolling guards who had almost certainly heard us. I wondered if they would blush when they saw their fearless leader like my men had blushed when she’d walked to the limo bare-ass naked. I grinned. Her guards would probably blush more. She had made some interesting sounds that last time in particular.

Sort of like a hungry kitten, mewling for milk.

I was more than happy to give her my milk.

Anytime. Anywhere.

I had no shame about our lovemaking. I prayed fervently that she did not, either. I didn’t want her getting shy or prudish after the gloriously wild session we’d just had. I doubted very much that she was happy that her men had most likely heard her, but I knew she would never let it show.

No one would ever speak of it, either. Not even to each other. Not even to a goddamn priest on their death beds. They respected and feared their leader too much for that.

As it should be.

But if we were quick, there was a chance that Angelique would not have to see two disheveled, insanely in love horny teenagers scurrying up to secretly shower before lunch.

We might be the heads of our individual families, respected and revered, but we were also a couple of kids who couldn’t keep our hands, and other parts, off each other.

“There is no use for it,” she said, sounding resigned but thankfully not embarrassed.

“No, there is not,” I agreed. “Come, my love,” I said, pressing a kiss to the top of her knuckles. I was kissing the ring and we both knew it. And I hoped soon, there would be an engagement ring there to make it even more symbolic.

The ring that was currently burning a hole in my pocket. I’d brought it with absolutely no plan of how to make her agree to be my wife. I had an idea how to propose at long last. I’d been wracking my brain for a special way to pop the question. And I knew just who to enlist as my helper.

Chapter Forty-Six

Francesca

I smiled as my daughter came bounding down the stairs to the dining room. We were having a proper breakfast together, as had become our habit. It was a return to our shared history, but we were deliberately making even more memories now. Before she was taken from me, we had taken most of our meals together, but that often meant perching at the kitchen island in the mornings and eating food as quickly as Maria plopped it onto our plates.

Today, we had agreed to stay in our pajamas for a fancy breakfast in the dining room. We intended to stay in our robes and PJs for as long as we wanted to. It was Saturday, and we were experimenting with new traditions. New rituals.

Many of them include Vincent, I thought with a smile.

He had spent the night last night, as he did nearly every night now. But he had left extra early that morning, regretfully murmuring that he had things to do. I hadn’t minded, though he seemed to. The hardness of his body showed me that he wanted to stay.

He always wanted to stay.

I wondered if he would always be so enthralled by me. If I would always be under his spell. If this insane level of passion could be maintained, or if we would settle into routine and take each other for granted.

It seemed impossible.

But everything about our love was impossible.

The thought of the two of us together would be laughable to anyone who knew us both. Any of the other five families would be rendered speechless . . . or start a war over the simple fact of our love.