She frowned, looking up, remembering how fast he’d been in taking down the man who had come at them with what she suspected was a knife. Practice, he’d said. He had a huge training room with all kinds of equipment. He knew Aaron Anderson and had trained with him. His body didn’t carry an ounce of fat. When he held her close, she could feel that every muscle in his body was developed. “Giovanni, if this is all true, how exactly do you bring people to justice?”
He didn’t change expression. “That depends on the crime. Sometimes it is just a matter of retrieving stolen property. Seeing that any money taken is given back. Some things that appear trivial to us are huge to someone else. Once we retrieved an item that had been in someone’s family for many years. Other times, if the crime is truly great, such as murder or rape or torture, justice is served by removing the threat to others.”
She pressed her hand to her stomach. She expected his answer. It even made sense on some level. She had been raised to believe in an eye for an eye, but that usually involved a brawl that ended with the two combatants sharing a drink together. She sank back against the headboard and held out her hand for the bottle of water. He seemed to know what she wanted and handed it to her.
His gaze never left her face. “Can you accept our way of life?”
“I don’t know. I have to think about this.” She should have expected something of the sort. His family was shrouded in mystery. She knew many people thought they were a mafia family, and it made sense. The aura of danger surrounding them was there for a reason.
“I suppose you are well versed in the art of combat.”
“We’re required to be proficient with any weapon as well as hand-to-hand combat in most styles. Not just proficient, we need to be excellent. We train daily. Our training starts when we’re toddlers. We’re also required to learn multiple languages. Riding the shadows is dangerous and it takes a toll on the body. We have to stay in shape at all times.”
“You appear to drink copious amounts of liquor, but you don’t really, do you?”
He shook his head. His eyes never left her face. He didn’t seem to blink. He held himself so still he might have been made of stone.
She wanted to tell him she understood and of course she could accept his way of life, but what he was telling her was huge. She needed to absorb it. Really study it from every angle. If she agreed, she would be in their family, shrouded in those same secrets, apart from everyone else. Her teeth tugged at her bottom lip while she thought about what he was really telling her, all the implications.
“You kill people.”
He nodded. “Yes.”
“Have you killed people?”
“Yes.”
She took a deep breath and another long drink of water. She needed the time to think. Of course, he’d killed people—so had his brothers and probably Emmanuelle, too. It was in the very way they held themselves. She realized there was no real surprise or outrage. It was one thing to talk abstractly about having her man kill someone, and another living with it. She had to be sure.
“What kinds of crimes would bring that sentence down on someone’s head? Give me an example.”
“A serial rapist. More than once we’ve been called in for that. A murderer. We’re careful. The investigators never make a hasty decision. When the report is turned over to the rider with the approval to act, the rider still has to agree. If, after reading the report, he is uncertain, it is turned back to the investigators to be given to the other team. They start all over. If the conclusion is the same, then the rider still has to agree or the job isn’t taken.”
“Aside from the fact that you can move so fast from one area to the other, how do you keep from getting caught?”
“It is rare for a job to be taken in one’s own city. We rarely work in Chicago. Our team investigates, and riders are called in from New York or San Francisco. We go to either city. That’s where the playboy image comes in. We fly in, party like crazy, get photographs taken and splashed over the tabloids and then go home. We’re the alibi. The cousins from that city party with us. No one can accuse them of being involved.”
“So, if you went as the playboy to New York to party with your cousins, Stefano or one of the others would be along but unseen. He would be the one to carry out the sentence.”
Giovanni nodded again. “That’s correct.”
“Your cousins were here to do a job.”
“Exactly.”
“That’s pretty clever.” She liked that he was so patient, allowing her to process the information he gave her. She moistened her lips and took another drink of water. Stalling. She knew she was stalling. “What did you mean by consequences if I didn’t agree to being with you after you explained everything? Would you harm me?”
“Of course not. How could you think that? I’m in love with you, Sasha. I would never hurt you, nor would I ever let anyone else. Our shadows have woven together. The longer we spend with each other and the closer we get, the tighter that weave. That’s what happens with shadow riders when they come together with the right person.” He touched his chest. Rubbed it over his heart. “It’s as if, when I saw you and heard your voice, you unlocked something in me that was locked up tight. I think that starts the process. No one really knows how it works.”
She liked that concept. “That still doesn’t explain what happens.”
He shrugged. “If your shadow and mine are torn apart, in other words, if we were to break up, you wouldn’t remember me at all. You would have no knowledge of ever being with me. I wouldn’t be able to ride the shadows.”
She gasped. He said it so quietly she almost didn’t catch the magnitude of what he was revealing to her. He had risked everything. Who and what he was. For her. He didn’t have to tell her about his family and what they did. He could have married her and let her find out gradually, but he’d promised to answer her questions and he had.
“What about all the pictures of us in the tabloids?”
“They will be there, but you won’t remember. You won’t care. I’ll just disappear from your mind altogether.”
Her heart clenched hard in her chest. Hard enough to hurt. She never wanted to forget him. Never.
Very slowly she leaned over to put the water bottle on the floor. When she did, her breasts dragged across his thighs and she hissed as the fire streaked through her.
He caught her in strong hands around her waist and pulled her over him so she was straddling his thighs. “Ride me, baby. Get yourself off.”
He didn’t move and she didn’t care. She knew how to ride. She was very, very good at it. She caught the base of his cock and slowly engulfed him, feeling the spectacular burn of his shaft stretching her tight muscles. She began to move, taking him deep, rising and falling, slowly at first, getting a rhythm. Feeling that wonderful stretch. The heat. The fire.
At once his mouth was on her breasts, first one, then the other. Those streaks of fire raced straight to her core and she moved faster and harder. The more he worked her breasts, the more she rode his cock until she couldn’t hold off. Until there was no air in her lungs and her body was screaming at her that she was going to fly apart.
He threw his head back as his cock painted her sheath with his seed, with so much fire she knew she could burn there for eternity.
“Dio, I didn’t know a man could love a woman the way I love you.” He whispered the words to her as she collapsed against him, her body still trying to milk his. Her face buried between his shoulder and neck.
“Every time you touch me, it’s amazing. Really amazing, Giovanni.”
“Baby, you haven’t given me your answer.”
She laid her head on his shoulder. “I think I just gave it to you, honey. Yes. The answer is yes. I don’t go back on my word, and I said I’d marry you. I think I’ll fit very nicely into your intriguing and infamous family.”
CHAPTER THIRTEEN