Nicoletta stayed in her chair in front of the fireplace while Taviano walked the others out. It was late afternoon, but the sun was still high in the sky and pouring beams down on the shrubbery. Through the panels of glass, she could see flowers lifting petals toward the rays. It was a beautiful sight. She looked around her. Everything in Taviano’s house was beautiful. His home was peaceful. A work of art.
She could see why he had chosen the location, away from the city. There were no sounds of traffic. No noises other than the soothing symphony of nature. His home was hidden away from the world. Tucked up into the hillside, it was nearly impossible to spot until one was right up on it. The house felt cool, as if the hill and the woods protected it from the sun. The fireplace gave the illusion of heat even though there were no flames at the moment. The sunshine made her feel warm enough.
Taviano returned to her, a big man. Gorgeous. She would never tire of looking at him. She couldn’t believe he was hers. That he really had fallen in love with her, but it was there in his eyes. She could get lost there.
“You told me you loved me.”
“I do love you. The wonder is that you didn’t know.”
She thought the wonder was that he loved her. She wasn’t yet that cool, confident woman that she was determined to become. “I’m not always going to be fragile.”
Was that the reason? He was a Ferraro, and the men in that family were naturally dominant. They protected their women. She wasn’t ever going to be a Francesca, or a Grace. She couldn’t be sweet like Mariko, no matter how hard she tried. Sasha was the most like her, but even Sasha …
Nicoletta sighed. “I need to be strong, Taviano. So strong.”
“You already are much stronger than you think, Nicoletta, but I understand what you mean. We have the training room, the gym and the meditation room. I’ll do everything I can to give you whatever it is you need to build your confidence in your skills until you believe in yourself.”
That hit her like an arrow straight to her heart, and she pressed her hand hard over her chest because she ached. He was wonderful. He had always given her everything. No matter what she did to push him away. Because she’d been so scared, because she’d thought she was so ugly and so covered in the layers of filth her step-uncles and Benito had visited on her, she hadn’t wanted Taviano anywhere near her. Her golden man.
“Stefano is going with us to evaluate me, isn’t he?”
“Yes.”
His tone was mild. He didn’t hesitate or attempt in any way to lie to her. She loved him all the more for that.
“I’m going to get sick the way I did before.”
Taviano shrugged. “That doesn’t matter. You handled it. He’ll see that you handled being in the shadows and moving from one to the next. You’ll be fine if you remember everything we’ve talked about, especially the breathing. You have to stay on top of that.”
He was so matter of fact it was impossible to have a panic attack. It was impossible to think Stefano would decree she wasn’t good enough to keep training. He hadn’t sidelined her. He was allowing her to go along. In a way, she was grateful. The Demons chapter in Chicago had to be somewhat significant. She didn’t want Taviano to face them alone and she didn’t know how to make the Ferraro signature kill they all would be using. Having Stefano along ensured Taviano’s safety. Above all else, she wanted that.
Heart pounding, she moistened her bottom lip. She wanted to be daring with him. She wanted to give him something huge. He deserved a brave, courageous partner. He deserved so much more than she was at that moment, but she was determined to grow and keep growing. She reached out to him, and he immediately wrapped his larger fingers around her hand. He made her feel delicate when she never had before.
He gently tugged until she was out of the chair and standing close to him, the tips of her breasts brushing his chest. Just that slight contact sent those little lightning strikes forking through her body in every direction. Where did women get confidence? Where did they learn to be sexy? She wanted that not just for herself but for Taviano. She wanted it with every breath she drew, but she couldn’t quite gain the courage to lift her gaze to his.
He cupped her chin with exquisite gentleness, his thumb brushing along her lower lip. “I dream about biting this lip.” He bent his head and brushed a kiss along her mouth. A brief, barely there contact, gone far too soon. “And then kissing away the sting.”