He was a little shocked that she spoke to him at all. “I’m sorry. I read the papers so I know your name is Sasha, but we haven’t been formally introduced. I’m Valentino Saldi. My friends call me Val. I had to crash your wedding reception, which I’m very aware is terrible manners. And I’m also aware her brothers would like to throw me into the nearest river and drown me. Dario, my bodyguard, knows it, too. She won’t take my calls.”
“Emmanuelle isn’t nearly as tough as everyone thinks she is,” Sasha said. “Nor has she had the easiest time. I don’t know why you keep pursuing her when you make her so miserable. It doesn’t make any sense.”
“It doesn’t? Why does any man pursue a woman?”
Sasha recalled the conversation at the Ferraro table half said in jest. “Sex?”
“For any man,” Valentino agreed. “But to risk one’s life, it has to be more than sex.”
She agreed with that assessment. “That’s the general consensus. But some men do like the adrenaline rush, and what a feat it would be to defeat your rivals by going after their sister.”
“I wasn’t aware we were rivals.”
Sasha shrugged. She felt very protective over Emmanuelle. “How many times have you broken up with Emme and then gone after her again?”
“Emmanuelle does the breaking up. I have never sent her home. She goes back again and again. I’m unsure why. When I ask her, she just cries and leaves me. I’ve tried to live without her. I’ve tried dating other women. God help me, I even tried fucking another woman. That was a disaster in more ways than one.” He sighed, his eyes on the woman in Giovanni’s arms. “I do know that if she does what she says she’s going to do, there’s going to be bloodshed, and she needs to know that up front.”
“What do you mean? You wouldn’t dare hurt her.”
Valentino stopped on the dance floor, looking down into her face. For the first time a shiver went down her spine and she was a little afraid of him. “I would kill any man who threatened her or touched her. Never her. Never Emmanuelle.”
Thankfully, the music ended, and Valentino took her hand and gave her back to Giovanni. When Emmanuelle tried to turn away, he caught her wrist. “You’re dancing with me, Emme.”
Sasha saw Emmanuelle take a deep breath and then she turned back to him. “There isn’t anything to say. I don’t want to keep doing this.”
“You have to hear me out.”
She shook her head. “I saw you, Val. With my own eyes. I saw you.” Tears filled her eyes and she looked to Giovanni. “I need you to get me out of here.”
There it was. His sister never asked for help, and she was asking. Giovanni gently took her hand out of Val’s. “Excuse me, Sasha. I’ll be right back.” He strode away, his arm around Emmanuelle. He took her out of the ballroom.
Sasha followed Valentino and Dario at a distance because they were trailing after Giovanni and Emmanuelle. Giovanni went straight to Stefano’s private elevator, put in the code and kissed the top of his sister’s head. He stood there like a silent sentinel until the doors closed and then he turned toward Valentino.
“You’re a good man, Val,” he said. “But she means it. No is no in my world.”
Sasha knew it really wasn’t. No, to the Ferraros, meant “try harder.” She wasn’t certain that Giovanni really understood that they had a double standard.
Valentino shook his head. “She’s hurt, Giovanni. You know she loves me. You know she belongs with me.”
“The sad truth is,” Giovanni said, “she can’t ever be with you. I don’t know what happened, but you’re going to have to respect her refusal. This isn’t like the ten times before. This time she’s adamant. I’ve never seen her refuse to dance with you. Nor has she ever asked for our help in dealing with you. Not ever. Leave her alone, Val, and let her heal.”
He held out his arm, and Sasha moved quickly under his shoulder, her arm around his waist. The two of them faced the bodyguard and Valentino, who shook his head and turned to walk away.
“Val?” Giovanni called.
He turned back.
“I’m really sorry.”
Val nodded and walked toward the front of the hotel.
“You really do like him. I thought there was some feud and you were all ready to do him in for some reason other than Emmanuelle.” She rubbed his chest over his heart because she felt his hurt for the other man.
“The feud between our families goes way back, well over a hundred years. The Saldis are a crime family. That’s the bottom line. Valentino stands to inherit it all. He’s the prince in that family. He was born into it and brought up in it. Emmanuelle can’t go there. She’s expected to carry out her duty. She has to have children, riders.”
“She can’t be happy? Your family wants to turn her into Eloisa?”
“Why would you think Eloisa wasn’t happy in her marriage?”
She rolled her eyes. “Anyone can see she wasn’t happy. She didn’t want children. Her family forced her to be someone she wasn’t. That’s what is going to happen to Emmanuelle.”
Giovanni stood there for a long time staring at the elevator, his arms around her. Tight. “That’s true, but I didn’t realize others could see it so easily in Eloisa. I’m going to talk to Stefano and the others about this. I’ve never thought of it this way. Never. She isn’t going to be another Eloisa.”
“Having said that …” Sasha backpedaled a bit. “Valentino really hurt her. Whatever he did, she isn’t going to forgive.”
Giovanni let out his breath. “Believe me, baby, that’s a good thing. Our family would never accept him, and his would never accept her.” He nuzzled the top of her head. “Let’s go home.”
“I thought we’d never get home tonight.”
At last. Giovanni carried Sasha over the threshold. He kept the age-old tradition to ward off bad luck. They’d had enough of that and he wasn’t taking chances. He set her in the large chair in the great room, turned on the fireplace with the remote, added music and closed all the drapes. Sasha started to remove her shoes.
“Don’t, Sasha. Not yet.” He removed his jacket and loosened his tie as she slowly straightened. “I want another dance with you, baby. Are you too tired?”
She shook her head and stood up. “It was a beautiful day and I don’t want it to be over. I did drink a little too much champagne though.”
“That’s good. I wouldn’t mind a little drunken sex with you.” He pulled her close and reached behind her to find the little hooks holding the nude-colored slip under the beautiful transparent layer of sequined embroidery. The silk slithered down her body, leaving her in only a pair of nude lace panties that were little more than a strip.
Sasha laughed and stepped out of the slip. “Did you know about that little trick the entire time?”
“Of course.”
He pulled her into his arms and began to guide her in a series of intricate steps that kept her hips pressed tightly against his. He loved the way her body felt against his. Through the transparent material, her skin felt like silk, sliding over him. His cock grew hard. Hungry. He slid his hands down the curve of her spine, found that indentation where her back met the rounded curves of her buttocks. His hands moved lower, found her cheeks. Firm. Soft. He kneaded, massaged. He loved that she savored his touch.
She threw her head back, pressing her breasts into him. Her nipples pierced the delicate fabric, rubbing along his shirt. He wanted to feel them against his skin.
“Take my shirt off.” He stopped right in the middle of the room.
Firelight played over her body, over her skin, so that she glowed. She reached up immediately and began to slip each button out of its hole. She undid the cuff links, and he slipped them into his pocket. After opening the cuffs, she dropped her hand and rubbed over his hard length. Then she pushed the shirt from his shoulders. Giovanni slipped out of it.
“Now my shoes.”
She crouched low without hesitation and undid the laces so he could step out of the shoes. One hand resting on her shoulder, he lifted his foot so she could take off his sock. He did the same with the other side but was very careful of the spot where her shoulder might still be sore. He reached for her, helping her to her feet.
“I love how you look right now,” he said as she unzipped his trousers. “Our wedding night, dressed just for your husband.”