“Carmine likes watches, doesn’t he?” I ask.
“Yeah. It’s like me and handbags,” Nadia replies with a shrug. “He’ll die when he opens it. So, we’ll go fetch it tomorrow morning. What did you get Shane, Ivie?”
Ivie blushes and then shrugs. “Nothing yet.”
“But you have a plan.” I lean forward. “Spill it.”
“We’re going to try to get pregnant,” she says. “I want babies, you guys. And he does, too. So, we’re working on it.”
I blink at her. “Your wedding gift to Shane is the possibility of children?”
Ivie frowns. “Well, yeah. I guess. Damn it, is that lame?”
“Kinda lame,” Nadia says. “We can do better than that.”
“I don’t think he needs a watch,” Ivie says, thinking it over. “And he has all the electronic gadgets anyone needs. He doesn’t wear jewelry. He’s not fancy. Dear God, what do I get him?”
“Okay, don’t panic,” I say and reach over to put my hand on hers. “Obviously, there’s no huge rush here. Just think it over and get him something sometime.”
“Yeah, okay.” Ivie takes a breath. “I’m going to show you guys my dress before the hair and makeup girls get here. Come on.”
We file into the suite’s second bedroom and watch as Ivie unzips a long garment bag, then peels it back.
“Holy shit.” Nadia walks closer. “It sparkles.”
“This is gorgeous, Ivie.”
The dress is white and covered in gorgeous crystals that sparkle in the light. It’s form-fitting and looks like the hem will hit just below the knee.
The bodice has a sweetheart neckline, and it’s strapless.
“You’ll be a bombshell in this,” I inform my friend. “Shane will pass right out, and the boys will have to pick him up.”
“I hope so,” Ivie replies just as the doorbell rings again. “Okay, let’s get this show on the road.”
Ivie is gorgeous in her dress, with her hair loose and curly, and her makeup done absolutely perfectly.
Nadia chose a red cocktail dress with a lace neckline, and I’m in a purple number that I’ve been dying to wear somewhere.
All of the guys are in suits.
Shane sprung for the best elopement package, complete with a photographer, flowers, and music.
And I have to admit, it’s really beautiful.
“You married me.” Ivie cuddles up to Shane in the limo, her bouquet still clutched in her hand.
“And I’d do it again,” Shane says, kissing her on the forehead.
“Rafe and I put our heads together,” Carmine says, catching all of our attention. “And rather than go out to eat with a bunch of strangers in a restaurant, we brought the party to us. We’ll be in a private dining room at the hotel.”
“That’s so nice,” Ivie says just as the limo stops at the hotel entrance where someone is waiting to usher us into a private elevator and up to the private suite for our makeshift reception.
The room is beautiful, with candlelight, a cake, and a table set with gorgeous flatware and more flowers.
“This was a good idea,” I whisper to Rafe. “More intimate and special.”
“That was the goal.” He presses his hand to the small of my back. “Have I mentioned that you’re stunning in this dress?”
“About a dozen times.”
“Here’s lucky number thirteen. You’re a vision, Annika.”
“Well, thank you very much. And you look dapper in this suit.” I run a finger down his lapel.
“I hate wearing suits.”
“I thought all mafiosos wore suits every day.”
He smirks and shakes his head. “Hell, no. Only in the movies. Or if you’re my dad.”
“I’d like to propose a toast,” Carmine says, raising his glass and catching our attention. “And maybe give a little speech. Bear with me. I’m happy for the both of you, Shane and Ivie. That you endured everything that happened a couple of months ago together and came out on the other side stronger. You clearly love each other very much and are happy together. So, here’s to a lifetime of love and laughter. No matter what might come up, if you hang onto each other, you’ll be okay. To Ivie and Shane.”
“To Ivie and Shane,” we agree and drink our champagne.
Dinner is a delicious steak with salad and potatoes and fresh asparagus. There’s more food than most of us can eat.
And when it comes time to cut the cake, Ivie only gets a little frosting up Shane’s nose.
But Shane gently holds the fork for her, not getting a speck on her.
“Well, that’s no fun,” Rafe mutters, making me laugh.
“It’s respectful,” I say, nudging him with my hip.
“How long do we have to stay?” Rafe asks, and I frown up at him.
“What do you mean? This is your brother’s wedding, Rafe. We stay until it’s over.”
He sighs as if he’s suffering.
“Why do you want to go?”
“I haven’t had my hands on you in almost twenty-four hours.”
His blue eyes shine as he stares down at me.
“I’m going to the bathroom. Meet me there.”
Without waiting for him to reply, I walk away, through a small bedroom, and into the adjoining bath.
He doesn’t knock.
He just walks right through the door, locks it behind him, and comes for me, his mouth set in firm lines. He’s all business as he turns me away from him so I’m facing the mirror. He watches me in the reflection.
“This isn’t going to be soft and gentle,” he warns me.
“Fine by me.” I shimmy my skirt up around my hips as he fumbles with his pants. The next thing I know, he bends me over and slides right inside.
“Jesus, you’re so fucking wet.”
“Always when you’re around.” I grab onto the edge of the vanity. “Oh, God, yes. Oh. This is a good angle.”
“Fucking hell.” His voice is a primal growl. He grips my hips, his fingers almost biting into my flesh as he fucks me hard from behind. I can’t help the small cry that rips from my throat when I come, and then the whimper when he follows me over.
This might be the fastest quickie we’ve ever had.
But it was damn good.
And when he slips out of me and wipes off before tucking himself away, he looks mighty proud of himself.
“See?” I say as I wiggle my skirt back down into place. “Now we don’t have to leave the party. But I do have to clean up, thanks to gravity. You go out first. I’ll follow you.”
He frames my face in his hands and kisses me long and slow. Finally, with a smile, he leaves the bathroom, and I take a moment to catch my breath and clean up.
That was unexpected.
When I walk back into the party, I’m met with sober faces and silence.
“What’s wrong?” I ask immediately and hurry to Rafe. “What’s happened?”
“We just got a call from Pop,” he replies grimly. “Another boss and his family are dead. The Giovannis in Kansas City.”
“This is a pattern,” Nadia says. “Three families, all assassinated. These aren’t unrelated. Someone is picking off syndicate families, one by one.”