The Commanding Italian's Challenge

She stilled, her eyes glazing with a look he wanted to distil and devour on a daily basis. Long after they’d parted ways. Long after this moment of madness had passed and he had recommitted himself to his vow.

Exhaling, he stole another minute. But soon the sensation got too much. He moved. Then groaned as sublime pleasure pulsed though him. The pure magnificence of it merely evidenced why he didn’t deserve it.

‘That doesn’t mean you can never forgive yourself...’

He pushed her tempting words away. Concentrated on her.

She squirmed again, making his breath catch. ‘Santo cielo, you’re exquisite.’

Words fell from his lips as he stroked in and out of her. Perhaps this transcendent moment was exactly what he was meant to experience? So he could truly appreciate it and make amends? For how could he suffer if he didn’t truly know?

Maceo thought a lot of things as the woman beneath him cried out in release. As soul-stirring pleasure overtook him. Most of all he thought about how bleak his life would be after this. And wondered how the hell he was going to survive it.

But perhaps he didn’t need to?

CHAPTER NINE

HE REMAINED AWAKE long after Faye fell asleep, treacherous thoughts weaving through his mind. With a few defiant sentences she’d struck a match that now blazed high, illuminating the dark spaces of his beliefs. The girl with the rainbow hair had offered a different perspective he’d refused to consider before.

Marriage and family were still out of the question. But perhaps he didn’t need to remain trapped in the shadows with his guilt and regret. Maybe he’d been spared for a reason...

Dared he reach for it?

No. Because the kernel of alarm he’d experienced when she’d shown him Pietro’s picture had only been diminished because of the enthralling experience that had followed. In the aftermath its drumbeat grew again, demanding attention.

He pulled Faye closer, running his fingers through her hair. Her serene post-coital expression drew a very male, satisfied smile from him. The experience had shattered him, and he was certain it had shattered her too. And as much as desire was already reawakening, urging him to relive the event immediately, Maceo denied the need.

The subject looming at the back of his mind couldn’t be ignored. But that didn’t mean he wanted to dissect it with Faye.

Too much had happened tonight. He wasn’t ashamed to admit he needed a reprieve. Reprieve in the form of sex would be ideal but, glancing down at the sleeping woman in his arms, he knew he needed a different avenue.

With a sigh of regret, he slowly extricated himself from her. Her murmured protest prompted a smile, which disappeared as he headed into his bathroom.

Powerful jets cleansed his body, but they did nothing to allay the growing certainty that Luigi hadn’t married Faye Bishop’s mother under normal circumstances. The connections were too strong to deny, and the possible reasoning behind Luigi’s first marriage very much pointed to the actions he knew his godfather would have taken.

More secrets in the name of protecting the famiglia.

More covering up of the misdeeds of Pietro Caprio.

But even as Maceo’s suspicions hardened he couldn’t help but speculate—with the benefit of Faye’s own words in his head now—if there hadn’t been a best-case scenario behind the act. Whether Luigi hadn’t acted with the well-being of his family at heart.

For the first time since his teenage years Maceo could almost accept that explanation without rancour.

The woman in your bed did this for you.

There was no mistaking Carlotta’s voice in his head, prompting him down another path. Had this been her intention all along? For Faye to throw doubt on his goals? And what of him? What was he supposed to do for her besides hand over her inheritance and the letter that still burned a hole in his desk drawer? A letter that might well answer a few of his own questions, never mind hers?

Regardless of Carlotta’s expectations, Faye in his bed was a delightful bonus, and the thought triggered a predictable reaction in his body—one he welcomed simply because it stopped him thinking of Luigi and Pietro. Of their possible connections to Faye.

Tomorrow. The day after. Perhaps even next week would be time enough to chase the answers he sought.

Aware he was hiding, taking the easy way out, he straightened abruptly from where he’d leaned against the tiles.

And then, like a breathtaking rainbow emerging from the stormy clouds of his thoughts, Faye appeared in front of the fogged shower screen. She looked a touch tentative, then she smiled.

> During their encounter in bed he’d surprised a few expressions on her face—enough to convince him that while he might be marking his first true experience, she was almost equally unschooled. The thought triggered a primitive pulse of satisfaction. Against every better judgement, he reached out and drew her into the shower.

Her gaze swept hesitantly over his face before meeting his. ‘Are you sure you want me in here? You looked as if you had the weight of the world on your shoulders just then.’