The Marriage Merger

Chapter Fourteen


“Strange. There’re a few extra cars at Mama’s today. I guess she invited some guests to dinner.”

Sawyer linked her hand within his and winked at Wolfe.

“Good, maybe there will be even more food to munch on.”

She laughed and shook her head. “you two are amazing. I’ve never seen grown men eat like they’ve never had real food before.”

“At least I help you clean up,” Wolfe pointed out.

Sawyer shot him a glare. “Traitor. Wait till I get you in the gym. I’ll double-kick your ass.”

“ ‘Double-kick’ is a word, old man? Funny, I didn’t see you going all rocky Balboa on me when I got you in the ring. When you went down, you stayed down.”

“Who’s rocky Balboa?” Julietta asked.

The men traded a shocked look. “Holy shit, you’ve never seen Rocky one, two, three, four, five, or six?” Sawyer asked.

“If there’re six installments, that does not bode well for me,” she said, reaching the door.

“Marathon, baby. Tonight.”

“Behave, boys. I hear voices.”

“Surprise!”

A roar filled the room as the door opened. Julietta looked inside in pure shock. She couldn’t speak as the image before her finally registered. Her family. Crowded in one room, together.

Tears filled her eyes, and she pressed her fingers against her mouth. “Mio Dio, why did you not tell me you were coming?” Julietta rushed forward and was immediately clasped in a cocoon of safety and warmth. With laughter, tears, and shouting, she reached out and grabbed onto Carina, holding her in a hug that also tried to encompass her brother-in-law and Michael.

Carina laughed in delight and squeezed her back. “We wanted to surprise you! We told Mama we were coming but never thought we could pull off such a huge coup.”

Michael lifted her in his arms and swung her around like she was five years old. “We all had to get off work from La Dolce Maggie, and we had to make sure the twins were finally ready to visit their aunt.”

Two matching boys hid behind Maggie’s legs, peeking out curiously at the loving chaos in the room. one sported bright green eyes like her sister-in-law, and the other a deep bark that pegged him immediately as the brooding Luke, exactly forty seconds older than his brother, ethan.

She squatted and held out her arms, lowering her voice to a soothing tone. “Hi, Luke. Hi, ethan. I’m your aunt Julietta.

Can I get a hug?”

A gentle prod from Maggie caused the two to toddle over. They both wore designer jeans, T-shirts, and matching leather jackets. Sturdy walking shoes helped them keep their balance as they entered her arms. Julietta pressed her lips to soft baby locks and breathed in their clean scent like a drug. “oh, I’m madly in love.” She lifted her face to the boys, beaming. “And I love the outfits.”

“you should see what your sister-in-law gets for my two. I swear Nick has a heart attack every time I open one of her gifts.” Julietta rose to her knees and laughed in delight when her gaze snagged on Alexa and Nick. She’d never met them but felt as if they were already family from the stories and photos. Alexa was Maggie’s best friend from childhood, and Nick was Maggie’s brother. With a squee, she gave matching hugs to the attractive couple. Corkscrew curls hung wildly around Alexa’s face, and her gorgeous curves reminded Julietta of Carina: earthly and sensual in a way most men craved. Nick sported blond hair in various shades and amused chestnut eyes.

“yeah, I thought your brother would keep her in line, but she’s just as outrageous as ever. I came home one night to find Lily demonstrating the ‘Gangnam Style’ dance moves while Maria proudly wore a T-shirt proclaiming her ‘Too Cool for Drool.’”

Maggie punched her brother in the arm and rolled her eyes. “If I left it up to you, they’d be studying Mozart and being too nerdy for high school.”

“ruin your own kids, Maggs.”

Alexa sighed. “Children, please. We just arrived and you’re already fighting.”

Julietta pressed her lips together in amusement. “I can’t believe you were able to get coverage for the bookstore.

I’m so excited to finally see you here!”

“Nick is in between projects right now, and since Carina came to work for me, I’m super organized at BookCrazy.

We were able to squeeze out a full week of vacation. of course, we didn’t have to worry about the hassle because we took Michael’s jet, and it was completely relaxing. I just hope we didn’t put poor Mama Conte out this week.”

Mama Conte held baby Maria in her arms, her eyes filled with joy as she gazed around the room. Her voice snapped with command. “Don’t ever say such a thing. This house has been empty much too long. It needs children and laughter. you stay as long as you like.”

Julietta hugged and chatted until a strange silence fell over the room. She swiveled her head and caught her husband’s gaze.

Pure discomfort and the urge to flee echoed from his eyes. Wolfe shifted his feet and looked nauseous and un-comfortable, staying as far away from the crowd as possible with his back pressed against the door. Her heart lurched, and she walked back into the foyer to slowly take each one of their hands and link them with her own.

“This is Sawyer, everyone. My new husband. And this is Wolfe, a very close friend who’s more like family.”

Max stepped forward, his dark good looks battling with Sawyer’s smooth blond grace. The male testosterone crack-led in the room and kept her transfixed. “you’re a sneaky bastard, you know that, Sawyer?” Max challenged, standing in front of him. “Not a lousy phone call or e-mail to tell me you got hitched. I guess we’re now related in some strange incestuous way.”

Julietta held her breath, about to tell Max to back down, but a smile curved across her husband’s face. “Too bad. Who the hell would want to be related to you? you suck at poker and you’re butt ugly.”

Max leaned forward. “But I’m taller, and I can beat your ass.”

“only when I let you.” His gaze slid to Carina. “And thank God I finally did.”

A short silence fell. Then the men boomed with laughter and clapped each other on the shoulder in that half hug grown men use. Totally not getting their code, Julietta shook her head and tugged Wolfe into the fray. “I love your tattoo,” Maggie announced, taking control and stepping in front of Wolfe. “Serpent. Goes down the chest, too?”

“yeah.”

“Very hot. And I love the cut of your hair. Do you model?”

He narrowed his eyes as if preparing for mockery. “No, of course not.”

She gave a thoughtful snort. “you’d be amazing in a cover shoot. I see you work out. Great biceps. ever think of modeling?”

Michael grabbed onto his wife and pulled her away. “La mia piccola tigre, please leave the poor boy alone. He does not want to strip to his underwear for your camera.”

“Why not? He’d make a ton of money. The photographs I can do would be extraordinary.”

“Are you really serious? Is that something you think I could do?”

Michael groaned. “Here we go.”

Maggie practically hopped up and down, ignoring her husband. “I’m working with a new Italian designer, and you’re exactly what he’s looking for. He needs edge. I’ll call him in the morning and set up an interview while I’m here.”

Wolfe straightened his posture. “Cool. yeah, I’m up for it. Thanks.”

“you’re not taking my best assistant away, are you?”

Sawyer called out.

Maggie smiled sweetly. “Let’s see how much Victorio wants to pay him first. Then we’ll talk.”

“Mi dispiace, Sawyer. My wife cannot control herself when she sees someone to photograph.”

Maggie wrinkled her nose. “I’m not cooking for you tomorrow.”

“Thank goodness.”

Julietta laughed at their easy camaraderie and the sexual spark that still shot like wildfire around them. As if underneath the teasing and insults lay pure combustion just ready to explode in private. Carina wrapped Wolfe in easy conversation that was such a part of her generous heart, and Julietta took a moment to immerse herself in the crazy chaos of family. She missed Venezia and Dominick, who would have completed the entire circle, but V had to dress a celebrity client for a movie premiere, and Dominick had decided to accompany her to London and stay for the week. Julietta made a note to call her so they could at least Skype.

The hours passed as they drank bottles of Chianti, played with the children, and hurried back and forth into the kitchen with platters of appetizers. Thick tomato with buffalo mozzarella, fruity olive oil and fresh basil on Italian bread. Plump mushrooms with lumps of crab, salty prosciutto wrapped around sweet, juicy melon. She kept a close eye on Wolfe, who at first didn’t eat, obviously nervous about being accosted by numerous family members he didn’t know. He seemed to loosen up as the evening progressed, and as his appetite increased, she noted Mama Conte made sure to keep bowls of food near him at all times. Sawyer also seemed to relax, enjoying conversations with Max and Carina and finally meeting Max’s mother, who beamed with pride at her son’s accomplishments and her new daughter-in-law she’d always loved as her own.

Maggie beckoned Julietta from the door and she crossed the room. “What’s the matter?”

Maggie’s cinnamon-colored hair shimmered under the chandelier. Green eyes spoke volumes of worry. “I’m not cranking pasta by hand again, Julietta. It takes me forever, it always sucks, and I’ve completed the tradition. It’s your turn.”

Julietta bit her lip. “I make pasta all the time, Maggie.

Anyway, I see Alexa in there. She’s got it covered.”

Maggie lowered her voice in a hiss. “your mom thinks I don’t cook enough and wants me to practice. I already com-mitted to the apple cake; I do that much better than pasta.

Alexa is nuts, she loves this stuff—look at her in there.”

Alexa beamed and listened to directions from Mama Conte, elbow-deep in dough as she kneaded mercilessly.

“Besides, Mama said you can take my place because you haven’t served your husband yet.”

Panic fluttered and Julietta’s stomach sank fast and low. The Conte tradition of cooking by hand for each new spouse in the family was unwritten, unspoken, but a known passage of intimacy. Feeding your husband with your own hand was a way to connect on a deeper level and nourish a connection beyond the physical. Not that Sawyer would know, of course. He’d have no idea if she slid a plate in front of him, but Julietta didn’t think she could handle it.

It had been two full weeks since their wedding night and the fragile bond formed then seemed to bloom brighter with each day. They never analyzed their new relationship.

each night, Sawyer took her into bed, made love to her in every way imaginable, and held her through sleep. Purity was taking form with the speed of light, the construction complete and all the details finalized for the unveiling in three months. yes, she cooked for both him and Wolfe when they weren’t working overtime, but it was quick and effi-cient. They formed their own routine as a family, but none of them looked deeper than that.

“Umm, I don’t think this is a good time. I’m worried about Wolfe, and I need to help watch Lily and—”

“I’ll do it; just get in there.” Maggie ripped off her apron, pushed her into the kitchen, and took off.

Porca vacca.

“Where is Margherita?”

Julietta sighed and tied the apron around her waist.

“Took off. you know she’s like a sly fox when it comes to getting out of cooking.”

Her mother cackled in delight. “I will make her do apple cake and biscotti. She will regret it. I need you. Here is your station.”

Alexa grinned. “This is the most awesome thing I ever did. From now on, I’m making fresh pasta in the house. But I think I may get one of those machines, Mama Conte. I’m not as adept as you. My fingers are getting tired.”

“Push through. Machines do help, but it is the strength and gracefulness of the body that flows into the food and bestows good energy.”

Alexa dug in with gusto, and Julietta enjoyed her positive energy flowing around them and relaxing her a bit. She fell into the motions used since childhood: dusting, whisk-ing egg, sprinkling out flour, kneading, and pouring into a dough form that depended on a fresh mix of ingredients and the basic talent of the pasta maker. The movements soothed her, and an odd need to excel at making the food she would feed her husband beat inside her, an ancient instinct rising up from the ashes of years of tradition. The room fell away, and Julietta lost herself in the task, pulling and stretching the dough to a fine, thin layer like gossamer without breakage. She heard the muttered frustration of Alexa as her noodles broke one after the other, but Julietta never broke her concentration. Piece after perfect piece was pulled and laid out to dry over the racks.

She pulled a fresh loaf of bread from the oven and sliced. Carina floated in, and eventually Maggie came back.

They prepared, set the table, laughed, and drank wine dur-ing various tasks while thick pots of gravy bubbled up and the smell of garlic and lemons tinged the air. Wooden bowls were placed at each setting, and the men filed in with groans of approval. The scrape of chairs against the floor rose to her ears. Steam billowed, and Julietta made sure her pasta was cooked perfectly al dente, not pausing to wonder why it was so important.

High chairs also clustered around the table with tiny bowls of pasta and sippy cups in front of them. The twins seemed fascinated by the scene before them, and Lily chatted with Maggie nonstop, giggling at her father’s occasional tug on her wild curls so like her mother’s.

Alexa placed her bowl in front of Nick. “Try it.”

He looked up. “Did you make this?”

“yes. Tell me what you think.”

He picked up his fork and took a bite. She watched his face in sheer anticipation. Nick broke into a broad grin and shook his head. “Amazing. This is the best pasta I ever had in my life.” She beamed with pride and joy and leaned over to place a kiss on his mouth. “you get a reward for that later.”

His brow arched. “Is Maggie babysitting?”

His sister snorted. “Dream on. you’re babysitting for us.”

Carina sighed. “Would you two just stop? Max and I will take the kids for you, if you want some alone time.”

Max choked. “No, we won’t. I didn’t agree to that.” He grunted at the obvious kick under the table.

Julietta stood with her bowl in her hands. Her hands slipped on the edges, and she chastised herself for being so ridiculous. He wouldn’t know. No one would. It was a silly tradition anyway and meant nothing. She set the bowl in front of him. “Here you go. Buon appetito. ”

The sudden chatter dimmed. All gazes focused on Sawyer, who stared down at his plate and then back up in pure confusion. Damn them all. Why were they making it meaningful? “Umm, is something wrong?” Sawyer asked.

Her mother gave her the look. The look that prodded her to speak and had forced her to do many things she didn’t want to do over the years. Julietta pressed her lips together. Mama Conte snorted at her daughter’s stubbornness and took the reins. “My daughter has made your plate by her own hands. She has done this with the honor of serv-ing you, her husband, for your pleasure.”

Heat struck her cheekbones. This was such an archaic tradition. Sawyer was probably dying from being the focus of everyone’s attention with no idea how to react. Her nerves fluttered. “It’s nothing.” She forced a laugh. “Just eat.”

She slid into the seat beside him and laid her napkin on her lap. When he didn’t say anything, she lifted her lids to sneak a peek.

He stared down at the pasta in sheer amazement. As if gazing at pure gold, he shifted his glance back and forth, staring with a strange vulnerability and need that called out to her. “you made this for me?” he asked.

Julietta gave a jerky nod.

In silence, he picked up his fork and twisted the noodles around the utensil. Placed it in his mouth with a reverence that stole her breath and her heart. She watched his every movement, his profile a portrait of angelic grace, even with his scar. Sawyer swallowed, then slowly placed his utensil down. In front of all witnesses, he reached over and took her hand in his. The warm strength of his grip settled her nerves and caused a pure joy to flood every crevice of her body.

“Thank you for this gift. It’s simply the best thing I ever ate in my life.”

Julietta smiled and squeezed his hand. “Prego,” she whispered.

As if knowing the tension had dissipated, Lily burst out, “More pasta, please!”

Nick tapped her nose and refilled her bowl. Chatter re-sumed, stories were shared, and Julietta ate. But she knew something had changed between them. Something that couldn’t be undone. Something that broke all the rules.

She pushed the thought away and focused on her family.

…

She cooked for him.

Sawyer ate with a methodical precision as the scene at the table faded to the background. odd, when she laid the plate in front of him, he sensed something different. Like he’d reverted to an alternate time and place where certain actions masked deep emotions that were experienced but unspoken. His wife had prepared a dish with him solely in mind. Served him with a humbleness he didn’t deserve. And looked at him with a banked fire in her eyes that drew him to her like a homing pigeon on a mission.

Food was survival. When he’d become rich enough for it to be a pleasure, he dined at gourmet restaurants. Culinary chefs had prepared meals on yachts and in endless hotel rooms. He’d ordered room service for women he slept with.

Since their wedding night, Julietta prepared simple meals for Wolfe and him that he recognized and appreci-ated. Lamb chops, pasta, risotto, grilled fish. He’d never had a frozen vegetable with her and was beginning to get used to the bottles of herbs on the windowsill, the baskets of tomatoes and prunes, grapes and lemons that littered the countertops.

But today was different. She offered him something of herself, as beautifully as she offered her body to him night after night. And in the way he only knew from his life, he took and took and took, giving her orgasms and pleasure but keeping himself solidly locked behind a wall that crum-bled inch by inch with each day that passed.

Confusion and want swamped him in a deadly mixture.

The memory caught, shifted, and dragged him under.

Thanksgiving. He sat in the closet with his foster brother and sister. One slice of turkey lay before them. Bread. Half a cup of milk. “You’re gonna get in trouble,” Danny whis-Probst_MarriageMerger_3P_kk.indd 304

pered, his eyes greedy at the sight of the meat. “Did you steal it?”

“Yeah. But I don’t care. It’s Thanksgiving, and we should celebrate.”

“School talked about it. I learned about the Pilgrims and stuff, but the other kids talked about turkeys and stuffing and cranberries. What is stuffing like?”

His sister touched the turkey like it would disappear. “We should return it.” Worry laced her voice. “You’ll get beaten.”

“I don’t care. He won’t find out. I was really careful. Here, I’ll cut up a slice for each of us.” He made sure to give them the bulk and take a tiny piece for himself. They ate the meal in silence, enjoying every bite of something that had actual texture and good taste. Food was another way of controlling them and their behavior, along with the beating, the solitude.

“We should say what we’re grateful for.”

Sawyer bit back his bitter response and desperately tried to think positive for his siblings. “Sure. You go first, Danny.”

His brother took it seriously, scrunching his brows together as he thought. “I’m grateful you gave this meal to us.”

Sawyer smiled. “Me, too. How about you, Molly?”

The girl was more solemn, her green eyes haunting in the sallow lines of her face. “I’m grateful we have legs and arms.

I saw a man on the street who had none of those body parts.

I’m really glad I have them.”

“Me, too.”

“How about you, Sawyer? What are you grateful for?”

Tightness constricted his throat. The path ahead was endless, strewn with pain and emptiness and the struggle to get through another day. His freedom loomed before him like the Holy Grail. Eighteen. If he made it. If he could help the others. He forced a smile. “I’m grateful for you guys. I’d be awfully bored without your company.”

“And what do we have here?”

The door ripped open. Sawyer pushed the two behind him as his foster father loomed like Satan, blocking the only exit to heaven. His gaze took in the empty plate with the crumbs of turkey and he reached out with a meaty fist and dragged Sawyer out. “Think you can outsmart me, boy?

Stole the combination of the lock to the fridge, huh? Think you’re pretty smart?”

He kept his furious silence, knowing words only made things much worse.

“Nothing to say, huh? That’s okay. I’m sure you’ll say plenty later. Starting with begging for forgiveness.”

“F*ck you.”

He knew he’d made a huge error the moment he caught the satisfied gleam in A*shole’s eyes. “Nice mouth. Since you don’t seem to care what happens to you, maybe you’ll think next time you pull a stunt like this.” Sawyer fought him, but the bigger man lashed out with his fists and his belt, and quickly tied him to the bedpost.

His siblings were dragged out of the closet and placed in front of him. Sawyer met his gaze, the cold black void of evil and a lust for pain, and knew he’d made a terrible tactical error they’d all pay for. “Wanted to give them a nice Thanksgiving, huh? Too bad they now have to pay for your mistakes. You’ll watch while I punish them, boy, and you’ll beg for forgiveness until your throat is hoarse.”

The terror on his siblings’ faces enraged him, and yet another lesson was learned. He could save no one, and by his very presence he brought pain to the ones he loved the most.

He spent Thanksgiving night not seated around the table with a turkey and stuffing. He spent it watching his siblings get beaten while he screamed for mercy.

“Saywer? Are you okay?”

The voice cut through the memory, but it was too late.

Nausea twisted his stomach, and sweat broke out on his skin. He gazed at Julietta with unfocused eyes and knew he had to get out of that room for a minute.

“Just have to use the bathroom. Be right back.”

He half stumbled out of his chair and shot down the hallway. Sawyer locked the bathroom door behind him with shaking fingers, leaning over the toilet as he willed the sickness to go away. God, even after all these years the pain still got to him. He was in a safe place, surrounded by people who cared. He wasn’t alone. He was safe.

He ran the faucet and splashed cold water on his face.

Took deep, ragged breaths. He was kidding himself. He was playing at a normal life he’d never have. every person he got close to he ended up destroying, and he’d do the same to Julietta. He ached to give her what she needed, but he’d been numb for so many years, he didn’t know how to feel any softer emotions. especially love.

He needed to get out of here. Gain some space. He’d make an excuse of sickness and go home, think about what to do, run away, get out, get lost.

Sawyer stepped out.

Wolfe stood before him.

The kid shifted his feet and picked at his cuticle. “you okay, man?”

Sawyer fought a shudder. “yeah. Sure. Just ate too fast, you know. Not feeling good. I need to take off.”

Sharp blue eyes that shredded his lies and saw too much pinned him. “I hear you. It’s a lot in there.” He jerked his thumb toward the kitchen. “Almost left myself. I mean, come on, are we stuck in an Italian spin-off of The Cosby Show? This shit doesn’t happen. It’s not real. Sunday dinner with homemade food. People being nice to each other.

Laughing. enjoying themselves.”

Sawyer clawed for control not to spring through the door and leave it all behind. “yeah. I know.”

The boy’s jaw tightened and a dark shadow crossed his face. “I hung out with this crew who knew a real good way to entertain themselves on a Sunday afternoon. We’d play the game Pick a Patsy. We each took a turn. Pick out a guy on the street. Follow him. one who looked nice, with some money. Good job. Had a great diversion tactic just like the molesters use. Asked for help with a hurt puppy down the alley. Guys fell for it all the time.” Sawyer watched his throat work as if he were trying desperately to swallow. “We’d beat the shit out of him. Take his money, spit in his face, pawn his valuables. Laugh our asses off and buy ourselves something great to eat. Funny, though, we’d be at the diner or Mickey D’s, all this food laid out in front of us, and I barely ate a bite. All I could see was the poor patsy’s face bloodied up, wondering what the hell he did to deserve it. yeah, those were the type of Sunday dinners we knew.”

This kid clawed for his own sanity every second. Was this what Sawyer wanted to teach him? run when something good came to you? escape and distrust people who were kind and only wanted to help?

Wolfe needed to know there was something else out there. Something good and whole and pure. Something worth fighting for. Living for.

The realization slammed through him. He had a choice.

But even more important, he held both of their choices in his hands, and damned if he’d let another person down. He wasn’t that boy any longer. He wasn’t helpless or afraid, and he wasn’t about to abandon Wolfe because of a few nightmares.

A deep calmness settled over him and smoothed out the jagged edges. Sawyer nodded and clasped the boy around the shoulder. Wolfe jumped, startled out of his own memory, and waited.

“I think this a way better way to spend a Sunday, don’t you?” He didn’t let go, sensing this time that touch was needed to ground both of them. “And I think I can eat more than you today. Just like I can outlift you.”

A smile ghosted Wolfe’s lips. “Bullshit. I already had two bowls to your one.”

“Then I’d better get my ass back and get to work.”

He walked Wolfe back to the table and took his seat.

Julietta stared at him with a worried look he was beginning to savor. How odd to have a female care about him and his welfare. “Are you okay?” she whispered.

“yeah. Now I am.” They smiled at each other and the room slammed into vivid neon color. Same type of thing that always happened when his wife walked into a room.

He lifted his empty plate and raised his voice. “More pasta, please!”

Lily giggled.

…

Most of them settled into the living room for coffee and dessert. Maggie remained in the kitchen, grumbling at the task of having to help bake two desserts. Alexa sat Lily on top of the counter to watch the process and offer occasional assistance. Julietta noticed the sparkle in her mother’s eye.

Mama loved a woman with fire and had taken a complete shine to Maggie the moment they met, though she seemed the complete opposite of what his brother searched for in a wife. Alexa slid seamlessly into the family without a hitch, her laughter and kindness a perfect fit for the Contes.

The twins were put down early to bed, and Julietta rocked Maria in her arms.

The six-month-old fit snugly in her arms. She enjoyed the hefty weight of diapered baby booty, the little toes that curled in pleasure as she slept. Julietta propped herself against the cushion and settled in while the fire roared. “So, what’s the plan for this week? Sightseeing? relaxing? you know we’ll have to invite all our cousins over.”

Carina snuggled next to Max. She noticed her baby sister never strayed too far from his side, and they still acted like a pair of newlyweds, their hands constantly all over each other. Tears pricked the back of her lids. Mio Dio, she hated acting like such a girl. But Carina had grown into such a strong, independent woman with a fire Julietta had never noticed. Her erotic art had taken off huge in Manhattan, and now she did shows while helping Alexa with the bookstore. Max still burned with banked sexual energy, but all that delicious focus was on his wife. His blue eyes lit with such love and gentle humor when he looked at her. Her family had finally found their happiness.

She looked up. Sawyer watched her with a heat that caused her to suck in her breath and shift her weight. The way he commanded her with his gaze or a bow of his head completely mystified her. How could she have gone from frigid to nymphomaniac? Her fingers itched to tear off his clothes and press her body against his naked skin. Skim the rippling muscles, fist his erection, and guide him into her heat.

Color flooded her face. Sawyer dropped a lid in a naughty wink, acknowledging her fantasy. Promising to give it to her later. And more.

Michael sipped his sambuca and stretched his legs out on Mama’s coffee table. “Maggie has a shoot in Milan this week. Maybe we can come and see the progress of Purity?

I’d love to see it, Sawyer. And kudos on such a huge business maneuver. Combining an exclusive luxury chain with La Dolce Famiglia was brilliant. I knew my sister would put our name on the map.”

Julietta smiled at the pride in her brother’s voice. It had been a long, hard road to finally get him to back off and trust her to run Mama’s empire. Maggie had nudged him in the right direction, and finally Julietta felt as if he truly let her go on her own to run the business as she thought fit.

“Grazie, Michael. That means a lot to me. Purity is simply amazing. The vision, the plans, the marketing. everything fits seamlessly together. We’re lucky he wanted us to join him.”

Sawyer gave a half laugh. His face showed a touch of embarrassment at her praise. “Just call us the mutual admi-ration club.”

Her brother’s gaze sharpened. “yes, things moved quite fast between you two. I wish you had waited for us to attend your wedding.”

She cleared her throat. “I guess we followed Max and Carina on that path. elopement seemed the best choice. We wanted to be together quickly but decided we didn’t want to sacrifice work at this point in the deal.”

Michael nodded, glancing back and forth between them. “of course. I guess business and pleasure do mix sometimes.”

“We’ll have you over to the new house,” she offered.

“you’ll love it.”

Carina snorted. “How come the women are always cooking and the men are always eating? I want to go out to dinner.”

Maggie’s voice echoed from the hallway. “yeah, me, too.

Why don’t you take your women out? or are you a bunch of billionaire cheapskates?”

“I agree!” Alexa shouted.

Max laughed. “We have children to disperse. Who’s going to watch the bambinos? Mom?” He looked over and his mother let out a chiding stream of Italian.

“Maximus, do you really need to ask? We would be happy to watch our grandchildren.”

Carina gave a whoop. “Tomorrow night then? We’ll meet here early. Five? We can go to Botinero, I love the food there.”

Julietta looked at Sawyer, who nodded. “Si. It is a date.”

Maggie’s whoop floated past their ears.

“How about we meet you down at Purity tomorrow afternoon beforehand?” Max asked. “We’ll get a tour and do some catching up.”

“Sounds good to me,” Sawyer said. “Michael, can you join us?”

“Si.”

Julietta smiled at Maria’s sleepy grunt. “We better skip out on dessert and get going. We have a ton of stuff for tomorrow. I think—what’s that? Mio Dio, is that Dante?”

A massive form of black fur prowled into the room. His body reminded her of a small dog set on gobbling up his next snack. Narrowed green eyes took in the crowd, his gaze assessing each member of the family and then snobbily dismissing them. The once-stray cat who had lived in the wild had been tamed and now lived with Michael and Maggie, but his cranky nature had not disappeared. Julietta bit back a laugh when Carina jumped from her seat and crouched in a kneel on the floor. “Here, Dante, come to Aunt Carina. I’ll give you a treat.” She did her animal-whispering mantra, a haunting tone that usually had any feline or canine falling over in ecstasy. Dante took a step forward and Carina’s face lit up.

The cat bared his teeth and hissed with sheer menace.

Carina’s shoulders slumped. “I see him all the time, and he just doesn’t like me.” Her tone held a slight whine. “I don’t think I’ll ever be satisfied until I can win him over.”

“That’s what he wants, sweetheart,” Max said. “Let’s face it. We all hate that cat except for Maggie. He’s mean, snarky, and greedy as hell. Lives to be served.”

“Leave Dante alone!” Maggie bellowed. “He’s perfect just the way he is.”

Michael snorted. “I wanted to leave him behind, but she absolutely refused. We take him everywhere. I swear, sometimes I get into bed and I’m afraid to touch my wife. He looms over her with menace. When we lock him out, I have to check my shoes constantly for my punishment.”

Julietta laughed. “I’m glad he finally found someone to love.”

Nick eased himself from the chair. “Be right back. I need to make a call.”

Alexa suddenly appeared with a powdered Lily on her hip. She frowned. “Nick, you just called my mother a few hours ago. They’re fine.”

Pure indignation beat from him in waves. “I’m not calling your mother. I need to check in with work. Just a second.” He disappeared, and Alexa gave a long sigh.

“Why is he calling your mom?” Julietta asked. “Is she feeling okay?”

Alexa rolled bright blue eyes. “My mom’s just fine.

She’s babysitting precious cargo on this trip, and he’s been a complete wreck.”

Carina giggled. “I’ve never seen a man so attached to two animals before. It’s adorable. even Max and I haven’t checked in on rocky.”

Alexa faced her. “My husband is worried over our dogs—old yeller and Simba. We left them with my mom because he refused to board them, and now he checks in on them every few hours. I swear, the man went from an animal hater to extreme animal parenting.”

The idea of a man loving his family, even his dogs, so completely left Julietta with an empty hole in her gut.

Suddenly, it seemed too much. And the truth was becoming harder to fight with every passing day.

She wanted the same thing with Sawyer.

Julietta stood and gave Maria to Alexa, stopping to press a kiss to her forehead. “We really have to go,” she whispered.

Alexa searched her face with a touch of worry. “Sure.

Thanks for taking care of her.”

“Wolfe, are you ready? I need—”

She stopped and watched the scene unfold before her.

Dante had stopped an inch before Wolfe and was studying him with a half-cocked head, as if sensing something deeper that could never be scented from the surface. Wolfe had one ankle hooked over his knee and was slumped into the cushions like any teen. She was opening her mouth to shoo Dante away, afraid he might try to bite poor Wolfe, when the unthinkable occurred.

With one graceful leap, Dante soared through the air and landed on Wolfe’s lap.

The cat wiggled his butt. Leaned his furry head close to the boy’s jaw and sniffed. Circled once. Then plopped his entire weight smack in the middle of his thighs.

“oh. My. God.”

Alexa stared, openmouthed. Maggie must have sensed something huge happening, because her footsteps echoed and paused in the doorway. Her gaze took in her mean cat purring like a chain saw, completely content in Wolfe’s lap as though they had been soul mates for centuries.

Wolfe seemed hesitant at first, but his hand finally lifted and began stroking Dante’s back. The cat purred louder and made an orgasmic sound of pleasure.

Julietta looked at her sister-in-law. A big smile curved Maggie’s lips and satisfaction oozed from every pore.

“Told ya Dante is smarter than any animal on the planet.

He only likes the cool ones. Welcome to the club, Wolfe.”

Wolfe smiled.

…

Julietta gazed out the window. Darkness soaked every inch of the night sky. The tiny sliver of moon emitted a weak trickle of light. Crooked tree branches swayed in spooky shadows, and frost glittered on the grass. She pressed her cheek to the cold pane of glass and wondered what she was going to do.

She was in love with her husband.

The knowledge rose up and mocked everything she’d thought she was. everything she thought she’d wanted. The rocky, littered path to this moment stunned her. First business. Then sex. She’d been so cocky, believing she could compartmentalize her feelings like a work deal. Somehow, emotion had mixed up with the physical and had snatched away any rational thought.

Sawyer was the perfect man not to fall in love with. He offered shocking bodily pleasures, but clearly stated he’d never be hers. He did not believe in love. Was not able to gift that emotion because of fear. He was honest about his limitations. Within two short weeks of marriage, did she expect to change him?

She glimpsed the man he was hiding behind walls—the walls of his past he refused to share. Julietta thought about the night he’d confessed some of his past. She knew how difficult it was for him to revisit the nightmares. The precious gift meant more to her than anything. He recognized her broken vulnerability and tried to give her something to ease her. Sawyer had an amazing capacity to give, but it was twisted up with so many bad things, he’d learned to run away.

Setting the plate of pasta in front of him had changed her. In such a simple act of servitude, she realized how much more she wanted from him. How much more she craved to give.

She wanted to be the woman he leaned on, laughed with, trusted. Being in the midst of her family, surrounded by relationships that were real, tempted her to reach out for more. Did he want more, too? And if she was finally brave enough to give him the truth, would he reject her?

As long as nothing was spoken aloud, they’d be able to continue. She could still have his companionship and his physical attention on a daily basis. Why screw it up by saying three lousy words? She wasn’t as brave as her siblings.

Her awkward experience with relationships only confirmed her inability to connect with men. Maybe that’s why her mother had to force her into this marriage under the guise of business, because she sensed Julietta’s inward cowardice in regards to love.

Pathetic.

She never heard his footsteps. His hands pressed down over her shoulders and pulled her into his chest. Julietta breathed in his scent, her hands wrapping around his while she clung to what he could give her. His body. Night after night. Some part of him would always belong to her, as much as she belonged to him. He made her say the words before he slipped inside her, words she’d give freely, without sensual torture.

She’d give Sawyer Wells her very soul if he asked.

The sexual chemistry burned and sizzled between them.

Her body softened, her thighs parting to allow him immediate entrance. She sensed his nakedness; his erection nudged the cleft of her buttocks in demand for more. She waited for the games to begin—the dark twisted world she craved, of dominance and submission, of raw nerves and bared lust.

He turned her slowly. Cupped her cheeks. Took her mouth.

His tongue claimed her with slow thrusts that began the dance. She opened and allowed him to tug off her robe. The fabric slid to the floor in a pool of silk. His hands cupped, caressed, but she didn’t need any foreplay—the whole evening spent in his company had weaved its own spell. His finger sank into her swollen wetness and dove deep.

Sawyer lifted her without breaking the kiss. Her legs wrapped tight around his hips and with one slow slide, he buried himself inside her.

Home.

She welcomed him, clenching around his shaft. This time, there was no play, no teasing nips or confessions wrung from her lips. There was only the hitch of his breath, the rock of his hips, the strength of his hands, the sweep of his tongue. She shattered around him, never breaking her grip or the connection, and he spilled his seed inside her without the barrier of a condom, his teeth bruising her tender lips in a primitive masculine claim of possession.

Still inside her, he walked to the bed and eased them down, never breaking contact. The truth hovered on her lips, but she was too afraid to speak. The whisper of her name was the last thing she remembered.