We move in unison.
We come in unison.
One blissful wave of ecstasy washes over me as her own moans fill the room.
“I love you, Tavi. You ruthless, crazy, impossible man. I love you so much.”
Her voice chokes up as she talks to me. She’s overcome with emotion.
I love that she is.
The time apart from one another was brief but felt so much longer than it was. That’s when I know… we’re meant to be by each other’s sides.
Her sweet, breathy moan makes my own need to climax skyrocket. I pump my hips and chase perfection. I’ll never find it, but I’ll die trying.
She comes when I do. Our fingers lace together as we come together. A rush of heat and ecstasy join as one. She groans and writhes, her grip around my neck even firmer than before. My seed lashes into her, and her pussy climaxes around me. The moment of bliss goes on so long, every muscle in my body’s tense with anticipation.
And when I release a breath and touch my forehead to hers, she whispers something I didn’t know I needed to hear until that very moment.
“I forgive you, Ottavio. Do you forgive me?”
I feel her sweet breath on my cheek. I draw in my own breath and release it slowly.
“I forgive you, Elise. Thank you. I forgive you. I love you. Be mine, baby.”
We roll over together, a panting mess of arms and legs and beating hearts. But nothing’s ever been so perfect.
CHAPTER 20
Elise
He wakes me in the middle of the night and reaches for me. I feel his strong arms around me and close my eyes. A warm feeling of contentment settles in my chest as he holds me. I know now that he does love me. Did Piero? I believed he did. And somehow, Tavi’s helped me make peace with all that’s happened.
I lean against him, his front at my back, his legs tangled in mine.
“I’ll grovel if I have to, to make things up to you,” he whispers in my ear. “And believe me when I tell you, I have never groveled for another person before in my life.”
I smile, exhausted. “I’ll take it.” I roll over to face him and kiss him, and before I know what’s happening, he’s making love to me again, slow and sweet and unhurried, like a lover’s stroll along a moonlit path. And when we’re sated, we fall asleep again in each other’s arms.
I wake the next morning to an empty bed. I feel around, wishing he was there. I hear him not far off, on the phone. Likely catching Romeo up to speed.
“First flight, yeah? Good. I’ll escort Santo home.”
He hangs up the phone shortly thereafter and fills me in. Romeo’s men came to fetch Leo and have him in stable condition at Tavi’s main residence. When he’s strong enough, they’ll fly him home. Santo comes home with us.
“And any word on Anna Regazza?”
He curses under his breath and finally hangs up the phone. When he comes to me, I can’t help but smile at him. His hair’s all tousled, and he’s put the clear glasses back on. He gives me a wink.
“Get over here,” I say, reaching for his hand. “What was that you said in the middle of the night about groveling?”
That gets me a teasing trip over his knee that warms me up well for when he lays me back on the bed and fairly worships me. My eyes flutter closed as he makes me come within minutes on his tongue, then pins me down beneath his large, sturdy frame while he takes me again.
“My, my, Mr. Rossi,” I say, shaking my head. “You have incredible stamina. I love how you grovel.”
He winks, reaches for his wallet, and slides out a plastic credit card. “Here, baby. You love to shop and my place here in Tuscany needs a feminine touch. How’s that for groveling?”
My name, Elise Rossi, embossed in gold.
“Tavi,” I breathe. “Really?”
“Really. You know we’ve got shit to sort out in America, but you asked if we could move here. How about we spend half the year in Tuscany when it’s colder in Boston, then head home to The Castle so I can oversee the tourist boom at the bakery in the summer?”
“Oh my God. You are brilliant!” I frown. I’ll oversee management and operations of my shop in Copley, but spending winter in Tuscany? Heaven.
We dress and head to the kitchen. Tavi gives his staff jobs to do, and I make him a simple breakfast of eggs over easy, hearty pieces of toast with thick creamery butter from a local dairy, and thick slices of peppered bacon on the side.
“If we weren’t already married, I’d ask you to marry me,” he says with a groan.
“And I’d say yes,” I reply with a wink.
It actually feels like a real honeymoon for this small sliver of time. He has a few cuts here and there, but something tells me that won’t be out of the ordinary in the long run.
He checks on Santo while I make a quick list of things we need in the kitchen. Santo will be ready to fly home in a few days’ time. He’ll face interrogation from the Rossi family men.
I have my suspicions about why he’s here, and it’s the only reason I’ve forgiven him. The Rossi family eldest sister, Rosa, spent time here in Italy once. I’ve seen the way they look at each other. I’d bet money there’s a story there.
But it isn’t my story to tell.
I have enough of my own business to tend to, and if anyone should know how tangled relationships can become, it’s me.
There’s a pang in my heart with a different feel now when I think of Piero. It hurts that he had ulterior motives. But a part of him loved me, and I’ll hold onto that. Tavi was within his rights to call for Piero’s death. It hurt more that he didn’t tell me after I came clean with him than anything. But people are complicated. Intricate and complex, as Tavi said, and we sometimes can only ask for forgiveness and try better next time.
He said he’ll grovel. He asked for forgiveness.
And what is love, if not the blessing of forgiveness for the faults of the other?
We stroll in the garden after lunch, a simple meal of tossed greens, grilled chicken, and pressed panini with mozzarella and prosciutto. I asked the staff to bake fresh bread for dinner. I’m dying to get my hands on some of their own olive oil tonight.
Tavi doesn’t bring me to Santo, and I’m okay with that. I want as little to do with any of that as possible.
He does spend lots of time on the phone, and several hours with Santo. When he emerges from where he has Santo resting—guards stationed at the door and in the room itself—he looks weary but hopeful.
“How long in Tuscany this time, Tavi?”
We’re sitting on a patio overlooking the vineyard, drinking wine that’s so delicious, someone should write poetry for it.
He sighs. “Few more days. Romeo hasn’t been able to get any info from Rosa. She clammed up and packed her bags. He’s pissed.”
“Please, Tavi,” I say, reaching for his hand. I give him a gentle squeeze. “Please don’t let Romeo be too hard on her.”
He frowns and strokes his thumb over my hand. “I can’t make Romeo do anything, babe. I can try, though. Why are you pleading on her behalf?”
I sigh. “I don’t know everything, but I have a few suspicions.”
If Santo touched their sister, what he’s been through will be nothing compared to what they’ll put him through. Orlando or Tavi would beat the shit out of him before Romeo cut off his dick and shoved it where the sun don’t shine.