“Why would I do that?”
He shrugged. “Any number of reasons. Money comes to mind. People do all sorts of things when they’re angry or hurt or drinking, or just because they can. You and I both know things can take a very ugly turn very fast.”
She was silent, regarding him over the top of the bottle of water, her gaze thoughtful. “How do we keep you from getting into trouble, Taviano? I asked you to help my friends. You tell me what to do and I’ll do it.”
“Marry me.” He said it abruptly. Too abruptly. He knew the moment the words had left his mouth that he’d mangled the moment. He sounded harsh and implacable, much like Stefano when he was decreeing that the world had to do as he dictated.
She looked shocked. Even a little horrified. She blinked rapidly, and for a moment he thought her lashes looked wet, as if there might have been tears on them, but she turned her head away, shaking it and then putting the water bottle to her mouth.
He made every effort to soften the impact of what he was saying. “We’re heading to Vegas. If you’re willing, we can get married there. Me taking you into the shadows and explaining the family business to you will be more acceptable if you’re actually married to me. Stefano will be pissed as hell, but there’s a chance he’ll let me stay a rider.”
Dio. He’d always been good at talking his way out of anything. What was wrong with him that he couldn’t get the right words out for her? She was stiff, her shoulders set, her face angled away from him so her luxurious, thick, long black hair flowed down around her shoulders, hiding her expression from him.
“I see. How long will you have to keep up the pretense?”
“What pretense?”
“That we’re married.” Her voice was strictly neutral.
“What the hell does that mean? We’re going to Vegas. You just said you’d do whatever it takes to help me out. Marriage is marriage, Nicoletta. You don’t get married and then what? Get unmarried? Divorced? Once we’re married, we’re fucking married. There’s no pretense. I don’t lie to Stefano or to the family.”
“Lovely. Well, that just sounds lovely, then.”
He really had blown it big-time. He took a deep breath and shut down the infamous Ferraro temper. He was angry with himself, not with her. “Look, Nicoletta, I know you deserve the works, a big church wedding, and we can have that. We can make that happen when this is all over, one with everyone there. I want that for both of us, but I’m going to be honest about what’s happening here.”
She turned her head then and her dark eyes met his. He was older than her by several years, but right then she looked at him with too-old eyes. “Do be honest, Taviano. I would appreciate it.”
He reached for her hand and threaded his fingers through hers. “When I first encountered you, a little over three years ago, our shadows touched. Maybe you didn’t feel it the way I did, but I knew then that we were connected.” He’d already told her that much. He tightened his hold when she tried to pull away. “Over the years, our shadows continued to entwine, and now they’re so tangled together, if you look at them, Nicoletta, you won’t be able to tell where one starts and the other lets off. They’re one and the same.”
She shook her head, but she stopped pulling away from him.
“When a rider marries and his partner accepts and comes into his or her world, she accepts the rules that govern that world. Their shadows twist together like ours have and make an unbreakable bond. It’s unusual for the shadows to do what ours have prior to a union, but everything about you has been unusual.”
She moistened her lips, frowning a little. “I don’t exactly understand. If you saw that our shadows were already tangling together, then you had to be worried that you would have to be my partner even back then. Now I can understand why you were always so angry with me. It makes so much more sense.”
“It wasn’t like that.”
She shook her head again and looked away from him.
He swore under his breath. “I was never angry with you, Nicoletta, only at what I couldn’t fix. Men want to fix things.”
“Just keep explaining.”
He wished he still drank alcohol. “Once married, there’s no divorce, no parting without severe consequences to both parties.”
Her eyes were back on his face. Unblinking. Watching him carefully. Taking in everything he said. She looked very sober. No expression. He couldn’t read her, and that was extremely unusual. As a rule, Taviano could read Nicoletta like an open book.
“Please explain ‘severe consequences.’”
He ran the pad of his thumb over the back of her hand. Stroking little caresses. He needed them more than she did. He needed to reestablish the connection he’d come to rely on. It had grown strong between them, but just that fast, she’d pulled away from him. He was used to her near adoration. She wasn’t adept at hiding it, although she tried.