Shadow Warrior (Shadow Riders 4)

She continued cupping his face gently in her hands. He simply pulled her from the chair right onto the floor with him, kissing her over and over. She was . . . salvation. Everything good. She lit up a room just as she lit up his life.

Grace did what she always did when he kissed her—she gave herself to him. Surrendered completely. His hands moved over her body, claiming everywhere he touched and she arched her back, giving him full access to any part of her he claimed. She took away sorrow and anger, replacing it with acceptance and love.

Vittorio kissed his way down her throat to the swell of her breast before lifting his head. “I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

Grace cuddled into him like the kitten he often called her. He loved when she did that, when she stayed close to him.

“Tell me what happens when Stefano is given the report on the criminal and petitioner,” she urged.

He knew it was important she know every detail. She had to accept their way of life, or he would have to give her up. Their shadows were tangled already, so much so he knew if she didn’t accept him and they had to be untangled, he would never be a rider again. She wouldn’t remember him or their relationship. This was the most dangerous moment of all to him, but Vittorio knew he had no choice. He kept his arms around her, holding her to him, as if he could physically keep her.

“Stefano would turn the reports over to our cousins in New York or the ones in Los Angeles. We don’t work in our own cities as a rule. There can be no ties back to our family. That’s for the protection of everyone. Obviously, it doesn’t always work that way, but for the most part, we’re careful never to have anything personal touch us.”

“I still don’t really understand.”

“If we’re called to go to New York, two of us very publicly board our private plane. A third will ride the shadows so there is no evidence of him or her ever leaving the city. The two in plain sight make certain the paparazzi take multiple pictures. Cousins meet us at the airport and escort us to some club where we party hard in front of the media. More pictures. Pictures with the cousins are taken.”

“You set up alibis.” Grace rubbed her face on his chest and then pressed her ear over his heart. “That’s why you’re always in the tabloids, you make certain you’re seen.”

“Exactly. No one would ever suspect us and if they did, we’re in plain sight. Nothing to hide. It works very well.”

Grace was silent for a very long time, staring into the fireplace. She leaned up against his chest, her head resting on the heavy muscles there, the silk of her hair sliding over his skin. It was impossible for his cock not to react to her when he was already naked, and she was in leather and lace. Her buttocks were bare and his erection immediately found the crease between her cheeks, nestling there, while his arms surrounded her, hands beneath her breasts.

“If I had come to you about Haydon, what would happen to him?”

“Once we had ascertained he was in fact a serial killer and the law couldn’t touch him and we found him, a rider from New York or Los Angeles would ride the shadows to where he was. He would never see the rider, or even know he was there. The rider uses a technique, breaking the neck cleanly, so there is no suffering. That is why it is important not to allow it to be personal if at all possible. You always want the visit to be about justice, not revenge.”

His heart pounded. This was the moment he could lose her. He was very aware of her stillness. She didn’t move. His hands cupped her breasts and yet he was barely able to feel the rise and fall of that soft weight. He didn’t say a word. Not yet. She needed to think about what he’d said. Weigh it in her mind. Make her decision. If it went against him, if she compared what he was to what Haydon was—and it was very possible—he would attempt to defend himself then.

He closed his eyes, rested his chin on top of her hair and breathed evenly to keep himself centered. He was asking so much of Grace. Every time he turned around, he was asking just a little more of her, when their relationship was so new. He had no choice, or he would have waited, but she couldn’t marry him and come fully into the family until she accepted what he was. He couldn’t change the fact that he’d been born a rider. Worse, if she accepted him and agreed to marry him, he would still have to tell her that their children would be trained as riders. He wouldn’t blame her if she didn’t want that life for them.