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What I had to do was no different than what I’d done five years ago, except this time, it would be a ruse. Then, I’d operated alone and I answered to no one. Now, there was Penelope. I couldn’t do this without making her aware. But how would knowing affect her? Would I even be permitted to tell her? If I couldn’t confide in her, it would drive a wedge between us. I meant it when I said I would do whatever it took to make a life with her, and that meant no secrets, no lies, no living an ocean apart.
I also meant it when I told her a life without her was hardly a life.
Regardless, I wouldn’t want her with me in Tropea. Somewhere else in Italy, maybe. Far enough out of reach for her to be safe. Even London would work. It would be easy for me to travel there, or to New York, or anywhere in the world under the premise of meeting with buyers, so we would be able to see each other from time to time.
That Nemesis wasn’t ready to move forward with the proposed mission yet worked in my favor. I had time to strategically plan my side of it, determine every ramification, then decide if I was willing to consider it at all. Every aspect would also be dependent upon Doc’s and Merrigan Butler’s input.
Besides conferring with them, I’d eventually have to face my father. While it had been less than a month since the party during which he gave me an envelope he’d believed would change the course of my future, I anticipated he was champing at the bit, as they say. Frankly, I was surprised I hadn’t heard from him or my mother, who was still the bastard’s secretary.
It dawned on me I also hadn’t sought the legal counsel Doc had recommended I did. After seeing Pen and spending as much time as I could naked in bed with her, I’d ask if he had a referral to an attorney qualified to consult on an inheritance the size of the one I was due to receive.
I was stunned when the flight attendant woke me to say we were preparing to land. I had to have slept at least six hours. Given it would be eight or later by the time I arrived at the town house and, once there, I planned to spend the remainder of the night making love to Pen, I was thankful for the rest.
“Hello. I’m home,” I hollered when I walked in the front door using the code Pen gave me to both open it and disarm the alarm she put on when she was alone in the house.
Home. Would she mind that I’d used the word? I’d spent a handful of nights here, some of which were on the fifth floor, where I felt like a temporary guest.
My phone vibrated, and I thought about ignoring it and finding Penelope instead. Thankfully, I didn’t.
Your welcome awaits on the fourth floor, read the message from her.
I dropped my bag and took the three flights of stairs two steps at a time. Even the lift wouldn’t be quick enough. By the time I reached the landing, I could hear music playing. When I rounded the corner, I found the lights dimmed and saw a crackling fire.
“Welcome home, honey,” said my Butterfly as she approached with a flute of champagne. The skimpy silk robe she wore was belted but hung open enough for me to see the curves of her breasts and the dark triangle between her legs.
I took the drink from her hand and set it on the nearest table, wrapped my arm around her waist, and nuzzled her neck. “I missed you so fucking much.”
We kissed, and while we did, Pen unfastened the buttons on my shirt and I toed off my shoes and lowered my trousers. Once naked, I walked her backwards to the bed, untied the belt of her robe and pushed it from her shoulders.
“I can’t wait, Brand. I need you inside me.”
When she rested against the pillow, spread her legs, and touched herself, I saw she was more than ready for me. As I pressed my hardness against her, Pen put her hands on my arse and pushed her body closer. I thrust the rest of the way in, until I was buried as deep as her body permitted. Then, stilled. I knew she was anxious, but there were things I had to say before I unleashed the passion that sat so close to the surface.
With one hand, I cupped her cheek while I braced myself above her with my other arm. “I love you, Butterfly.”
Her eyes filled with tears, but she was smiling. “I love you, Michelangelo.”
There was more I wanted to say and hear. I wanted her to swear to me she’d always love me, that she’d never leave me, and that the two of us would spend the rest of our lives together—joined like we were now as often as possible. Instead, I said all of it with my body. I kissed her deeply and, in a frenzy, brought us both to the pinnacle of pleasure.
“Please tell me you do not have to go to the gallery tomorrow,” I said sometime in the middle of the night after we’d made love for the third time.
“Even if I did, I wouldn’t. Tara has been great. I think she’s putting in hours now, knowing she won’t be able to once the baby is born.”
“I’m going to be an uncle,” I murmured.
Pen looked up at me. “How do you feel about that?”
I shrugged, afraid to say the first thing that came to mind. I wished, instead, I would soon be a father to the child my Butterfly and I made together. I couldn’t wait to rest my hand on her stomach and know that, inside, there was a life we’d created.
Would I risk mine so willingly by infiltrating the Calabrian Syndicate if I knew I were to be a father? Could I chance leaving Pen alone to raise him or her? Was the good of the many worth more than the good of a family?
“Brand?”
“Yes. Very excited. And you’ll be an aunt.”
“What were you thinking about?” she asked.
I nearly groaned at my reluctance to admit it, but stifled myself. “You and me starting a family.”
