The motion of his hips only falters when he grits out, “I’m there.”
“Me too.”
“Ah, fuck, viper—”
“Quinn! Quinn!”
We groan loudly together, so loudly, it echoes off the walls. He shoves his finger deep inside my pussy. I rear back against him, clenching and clenching, shuddering uncontrollably.
Still pumping into my ass, he leans over and rests his forehead between my shoulder blades as he spills himself inside me.
Pressing his lips to my spine, he breathes my name on a long, low moan.
Any chance I thought I had of not falling for this man evaporates into thin air.
Whatever happens when the sun rises, my cold little heart is now in his hands.
34
Rey
We lie tangled on the bed together like victims of a plane crash. Neither of us speaks. It’s only when I hear my cell phone ringing from inside my handbag on the other side of the room that I sit up.
Slowly, because I’m dizzy.
Quinn murmurs, “I’ll get it.”
He swings his legs over the edge of the bed and rises, tucking himself back into his briefs. Walking across the room, he zips up his trousers. He returns in a moment with my phone, two aspirin, and a glass of water.
The phone has stopped ringing, but the number on the screen is Gianni’s.
“Here. Take these.”
Quinn hands me the aspirin. I pop them into my mouth, accept the glass of water, and drink deeply, all while avoiding his eyes.
I feel as if my heart is exposed, beating outside my chest. Like every nerve has been stripped of its protective lining. I’ve never felt more naked in my life.
Quinn takes the empty glass from me and sets it on the nightstand. Then he kisses me on the forehead and pulls the fuzzy folded blanket off the end of the bed. He wraps it around my body, nuzzling my neck and sitting beside me to pull me into the warm, safe circle of his arms.
I close my eyes and let him hold me while I sniff his neck and wonder how to politely excuse myself so I can go to the bathroom.
He saves me from embarrassment by picking me up and taking me there himself.
He sets me in front of the counter, kisses my forehead again, then murmurs, “I’ll give you a minute. Don’t lock the door.”
As if I could operate something as complex as a door handle lock right now. I couldn’t even tell you what year it is.
He closes the door, leaving me alone with my stunned reflection in the mirror. Flushed and splotchy, my hair tangled and my eyes hazy, I almost don’t recognize myself.
I turn away from the stranger in the mirror. I use the toilet and wash my hands. I wrap the blanket around my shoulders again and dial Gianni.
He picks up on the first ring, sounding chipper and relaxed, as if he’s enjoying a lovely Caribbean vacation. “Reyna! How are you, sorellina?”
“Where have you been?”
I don’t know if it’s the flat, disaffected tone of my voice that makes him pause, or if he can tell that I’ve just been used in the most brutal, beautiful way, but he takes a moment before replying.
“I’m at the Four Seasons with Mamma.”
“That’s not what I asked. Listen carefully. Where have you been?”
Irritation creeps into his carefree holiday tone. “Since when do I answer to you?”
“Since I married an Irishman to save the family. I’ll only ask one more time, then I’m sending that Irishman over to break your kneecaps. Where have you been?”
He snaps, “Taking care of business.”
“What business?”
“My business, that’s what. Just because you’re married now doesn’t mean I need to give you an itinerary.”
“Maybe not. But you will give me a copy of that marriage contract. Email it to me. Right now. I want to know the terms you negotiated.”
Indignant that I’m issuing commands, he starts to sputter something about being the head of the family, but I ignore that and speak over him.
“I met with Alessandro.”
Silence. I hear him breathing on the other end of the line, but other than that, he doesn’t say a word.
“Massimo, Tomasi, and Aldo, too.”
“When? Why? What did they want?”
“This morning. They contacted Declan O’Donnell and arranged it. They seemed very interested in what you might be up to in your spare time. You know, like when you mysteriously go missing.”
Another silence, this one fraught. I feel his nervousness as plainly as if he’d reached out and grabbed me with a trembling hand.
“What’s happening, Gianni? What have you gotten yourself into?”
“Nothing. Don’t be stupid. I have everything under control.”
I say softly, “I have half a mind to tell Quinn a nasty lie about something you said about me and send him over there to rearrange your face, so you’d better stop bullshitting me or this conversation is over.”
He snarls, “Twenty-four hours with him and suddenly you think you’re in charge of this family?”
“I’ve always been in charge of this family. I’ve just been letting you hold the reins for a while. Now talk to me before things get out of hand.”
“Fuck you, Reyna. I’m not telling you anything.”
We sit and breathe angrily at each other for a while, until I decide he’s not worth getting upset over. Whatever it is he’s into will come out in the wash eventually.
“Lili and Juan Pablo made it to Mexico safely. In case you’re interested.”
He mutters an oath in Italian. “I’m not interested. I no longer have a daughter.”
“Do you still have a mother? Because she’s been sitting alone in a hotel room all day and night. I’ve been worried.”
“Are you joking? She’s been having the time of her life. When I got back to the room, she was hosting a party for the housekeeping staff. I’ve got a two-thousand-dollar room service bill sitting here with her signature on it.”
That makes me smile. And I suppose I shouldn’t have worried about her. She’s been through as much as I have and is still surviving.
“We’re leaving for New York in the morning. What are your plans?”
“They’re in development. I’ll let you know. By the way, you’re welcome.”
He pauses. “For what?”
“Jesus Christ, Gianni. You’re a fucking asshole. Don’t forget to send me the contract.”
I disconnect and set the phone on the counter. When I open the bathroom door, Quinn is right there, leaning against the wall with his arms folded over his chest.
He says, “You could’ve asked me for the contract.”
“Earwigging, were you?”
“Aye. I don’t like not knowing what’s going on.”
“Really? What a stupendous surprise.”
His smile is as soft as his eyes. “I ordered room service. Thought you might be hungry.”
“Oh, thank God. I really like Sloane, but I’ve never had a worse meal in my life.”
“She’s very into her health.”
“Is she into Declan’s health? Because it seems like her poor husband could starve to death eating that shredded cardboard she calls food.”
He reaches out and brushes a strand of hair off my cheek, tucking it behind my ear. “Declan would eat broken glass if that’s what Sloane was serving.”