Black Hearted (The Margarelli Brothers 1) - Page 64

He stared into my eyes for a moment. And then a furry face came out of nowhere and licked him, up and down, until the side of his face was covered in dog saliva. The tension was broken. All three of us started laughing. Vincent pretended to be offended.

“You think that’s funny?” he asked Angelique. He tickled her to get his revenge. I could not stop laughing as the puppy started running in circles around us.

“It’s going to piddle on the rug, and you are going to clean it up,” I informed him.

“Oh, you think so?”

“Yes, I do. I know so,” I said, still chortling. That’s when he attacked. I found myself flat on my back, with Vincent and Angelique both tickling me.

“Get her!”

The dog got in on the fun, licking my face as I wiggled, trying to get away.

In the end, it was me who ended up peeing my pants, all before breakfast.

But I wouldn’t have changed it for the world.

The three of us spent the day together relaxing, talking, eating, playing games, and watching TV. It was almost as if we were a normal family. We even took a walk in the park, under guard, of course. When Vincent took my hand and kissed it, I bit my lip, resisting the urge to look around for prying eyes.

“What is it?”

I sighed, not wanting to spoil the blissful mood we’d been in all day. I didn’t want to burst the bubble. But we had to talk, I decided. Now was as good a time as ever.

I let Angelique pull ahead of us, with Luciano walking beside her. The puppy dragged her, but I watched proudly as she put her foot down and didn’t let the animal control her.

Good girl, I thought to myself. Never let anyone control you. Advise you, yes. Love you, yes. But not decide for you. It’s not worth it.

“Talk to me.”

“They will try to stop us.”

“Who?”

“The families.”

“From marrying?”

“Yes. From combining the power of our empires. From being happy.”

“We won’t let them.”

“Vincent . . . you must know that nothing can be that simple for us.”

“Yes, it can,” he insisted. “We could walk away from everything. Just stop. Just be.”

“I would. I would do that to be with you. If I thought they would leave us to live in peace.”

“We could do it. I don’t care. I will leave my cousin in charge.” He smiled grimly. “He would hate all that responsibility. But his pride wouldn’t let him say no.”

I laughed.

“You look so happy at that prospect.”

“I am happy,” he said, squeezing my hand for emphasis. “The woman of my dreams just agreed to be my wife.”

He kissed me.

“You exceed any dream, Francesca.”

Angelique ran up to us then. I almost laughed at Luciano’s expression. He was so serious all the time. So dignified. But right now, he was carrying the puppy. Seeing him with that wiggling bundle pressed up against his formerly immaculate suit was beyond hilarious. But if I laughed at him, it would be cruel.

He was my third cousin. Young and impetuous, from what I’d been told. But he was always on his best behavior when on duty. I knew I had his absolute loyalty. I didn’t want to make him feel bad.

“Have you decided what to name her?” I asked my daughter, still trying not to laugh at my guard.

“Yes. Vincent thought that Michael was a good name for a mutt.”

I choked back a laugh.

“But isn’t she a girl?”

“Mom, don’t be so gender rigid. We don’t know her preferred pronouns because she’s a dog,” she said, then skipped away, leaving me to stare after her with my mouth agape.

“She is right,” Vincent said. “These kids are way ahead of us. We have a lot to learn.”

“Well, I guess we’d better catch up,” I said. He took my hand, and I let him. I wouldn’t worry about the five families today. There was time enough to worry about that tomorrow.

Chapter Forty-Seven

Vincent

“Are we really doing this?” Francesca asked me, her beautiful eyes troubled.

I stared at the woman I loved. She was dressed all in white, sitting across from me in my limo. We had been silent for most of the ride, each lost in our own thoughts.

“Once we do this, there is no turning back,” she added unnecessarily.

“There was already no going back, ’Cesca. Not for me. Not ever,” I vowed, taking her hand and rubbing my thumb over it. I turned it over and caressed the delicate skin of her wrist. “I could never go back to the loveless, dull, boring emptiness of my life without you.”

“They might come after us. Kill us.”

“I won’t let them.”

She laughed ruefully, shaking her head at me. Her long, silky waves were held back by antique ivory combs. What was the expression again? Something old, something new, something borrowed, something blue . . .

Tags: Joanna Blake The Margarelli Brothers Romance
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