“Aren’t they?” Mariko asked, looking surprised. Nicoletta knew the couple was drawing attention away from her, and she was grateful to them. Mariko, almost from the first time they’d met, had been a gentle, exotic creature, so sweet it was impossible to think of her as a skilled and very experienced rider—but she was just as lethal as the men. She had, from the beginning, offered her friendship to Nicoletta.
Nicoletta glanced at Emmanuelle. She sat on the other side of Elie looking every bit a Ferraro. Even in the pinstriped suit she wore, she looked very feminine and beautiful. There wasn’t a doubt that she was all woman. There was a sadness in her that hadn’t been there a couple of years before. She had the same dark blue eyes that Taviano had. They used to light up when she smiled, but Nicoletta hadn’t seen them do that, not in a couple of years.
She was always sweet and kind, she shouldered her responsibilities without a murmur and always took any extra rotation if any rider needed time off. If riders from other locations asked for help, it was Emmanuelle who volunteered to go. Nicoletta could tell that the entire family was worried about her, even the cousins. Even the bodyguards. Even Elie.
“Detroit Demons sent eighteen of their finest our way,” Stefano announced. “They told Benito they’d soften us up and pick up Nicoletta for him. Benito did say they weren’t to touch her. They could have whatever friend she cared about but not touch her. He would punish her his way, but no one else was to lay a hand on her.”
“That’s a big mistake,” Nicoletta said. “Doesn’t give his army a lot of room.”
“I don’t think they have a lot of control when it comes to women, so don’t count on them listening,” Taviano said. “I don’t want any of them to ever lay eyes on you unless it’s necessary for some reason we determine.”
She nodded and leaned into him. “I’m good with that.” “Salvatore and the others have been monitoring the talk between Benito and the Detroit crew. They tried getting to him, but so far, they haven’t been able to. He’s moving all the time, and they can’t pinpoint his location.”
“Is he moving in this direction?” Taviano asked.
His hand settled around Nicoletta’s neck. She was already acutely aware of him, but the moment he did that, surrounding her bare nape beneath her hair and stroking with the pads of his fingers, her entire focus jumped to those pinpoints of sensation. Each caress sent little streaks of lightning rushing through her bloodstream, creating heat. She knew she should stop him, because it was making it difficult to follow the conversation, but she didn’t want him to stop.
Taviano made her feel connected to him, but more importantly, through that connection, she knew he needed to touch her. He hadn’t had anyone to love him the way she did, so unconditionally. Giving herself to him when she didn’t think she was going to get anything back mattered to him. She’d loved him for years. Even when she’d been pushing him away, he’d known she loved him. She adored him. He needed that from her. He needed to know that he was first in her life and that he always would be.
Nicoletta breathed through the lightning jolting her, the little strikes that seemed to carry such awareness to her breasts and then lower, between her legs, to her clit, to her core. She leaned into Taviano’s hand and tried to concentrate on what was being discussed, telling herself it was good practice to learn to be aware no matter how pleasurable the circumstances.
“We have to assume that Benito is heading straight for us,” Stefano said. He glanced at Nicoletta. “No matter what, bella, this man cannot have you. You are famiglia. None of this is your fault, and whatever they do, whoever they hurt, is on them. It is important to learn to disassociate. It’s perhaps the most difficult of all the lessons.”
Nicoletta felt the weight of their gazes on her. Her heart accelerated, and for a moment her breath was trapped in her lungs. Almost wildly, she looked around for the doors, or the windows, needing to know where the exits were. She’d already found them once—that was part of their training from day one—but she felt as if she needed to reassure herself that she could get to one of them quickly and no one was blocking any of them.
Taviano’s fingers stilled their motion and then tightened on her skin, digging into her shoulders. There was a touch of possession there, but there was also the feeling of partnership.
“Breathe, tesoro. Everyone in this room is famiglia. No one will ever harm you.”
She knew that. She hated that she still had panic attacks. Stefano would never think she could go into the shadows with Taviano and be an asset to him, when she knew with a certainty that she could.