Page 24 of Sacred Blood

“Please forgive me,” I moaned. “It was mean, but I really didn’t know it would upset you this much. I’m sorry.”

Tano rubbed my back in soothing circles. “Shh, it’s okay, baby girl. I completely forgive you. You couldn’t have known, but my little brother once nearly drowned in our family pool. I saved him. Seeing you like that, and knowing I was responsible, was a trigger.”

That explained his need to really drive home the lesson, but he was right, it had never been a funny joke in the first place. He’d tried to do something playful for maybe the first time in his life, certainly the first time since I’d met him, and I’d turned it around on him in the cruelest way. I wrapped my arms around his neck and held his gaze. “I’m sorry, Daddy, I’ll never do it again.”

Tano’s eyes flared with heat. “I think it’s time for a different lesson.”

He stood, holding my burning ass in his hands with my legs wrapped around his hips, and carried me into the house.

Chapter Six

Gaetano

As morning’s light streamed in through my bedroom window, I lingered in bed, admiring Gabriella’s hair splayed over her pillow and half of mine. The feathery tips contrasted sharply with the white linens, dark and glossy as ink, like her impossibly full lashes against her pale cheek. When I’d first seen her at Buono Come Il Mamas, her rich chestnut hair had been stacked on top of her head, clearly full, but hiding its full length. Seeing her hair down, I was surprised such a small woman could carry so much weight on her head.

I stroked the loose silky strands, smoothing them into a design down to her snug waist. My eyes continued to travel, taking in the wide flare of her hips and her strong, shapely legs. She was tiny but not frail, robust but not heavy, and although nurses’ hands were generally rough from work, hers were soft.

Her flawless skin had a natural blush, her kiss-swollen lips were pink and softly curved in a sleeping smile, like a doll’s face. Her feet were so small and perfectly shaped, maybe a size five with high arches, and she’d painted her toenails a playful glittery pink. I could see the child in her, the playful brat she had been and still was, beneath this woman’s body she wore so well, and it awakened something in me, something other than a man’s carnal urges. I wanted to protect the innocence she held onto, to hold her and comfort her. To feel her holding me.

These urges were…disturbing. How had she so easily broken through my carefully controlled exterior and found a part of me I truly thought I’d buried long ago? Desire wasn't the problem. It was simple.

A man saw a beautiful woman and wanted her. There was nothing dangerous about that. Lust could be satisfied, indulged, and eventually forgotten.

Protection was different, but still understandable. Gabriella was vulnerable. She was alone, frightened, and clearly running from something. Any decent man would feel compelled to shield her from harm.

But this was something else entirely.

I found myself wondering if she'd slept well. If she was warm enough. If she would smile when she woke up.

The thoughts came uninvited and settled beneath my skin.

Dangerous.

Wanting a woman in my bed was one thing.

Wanting her happiness was another.

My father had spent a lifetime teaching us that attachments created weaknesses. Love made a man predictable. Predictable men could be manipulated. Manipulated men made mistakes.

Mistakes got people killed.

Yet here I was, lying in bed beside a sleeping woman, wondering whether she preferred cream in her coffee and whether she would laugh if I made a joke.

The realization should have alarmed me.

Instead, I brushed another strand of hair from her face.

I didn’t want to feel anything more for any woman than simple, disposable lust, yet something far more dangerous had begun to take root—desire.

And trailing altogether too close behind desire was want and need, emotions that could be used against me. No. Inevitably would be used against me when the relationship ran its course. And it would, because how could such a warm, playful creature actually love someone as heartless as me?

There was the lie. I wasn’t heartless. I could be cruel when required and a certain amount of emotional distance was necessary in a job like mine, but my very essence desired to care for and heal people and so it had been ever since I was a boy. But my father knew that in this life, it was dangerous to let people see who you were.

My thoughts strayed to Romeo, and his relationship with Vittoria. She was a wicked little brat, but even I couldn’t deny that my brother had been more human since she’d arrived. Maybe if Romeo could find a way to balance being a cold controlling Don and a loving husband, he could be the first among us to have a happy life, and if he could do it, there was hope for all of us. As boys, we'd been taught there were priorities in life.

Family.

Duty.