“Dario, I swear, if you even look at a friend of mine, I’m going to put a sack over her head,” Emmanuelle threatened.
The briefest of smiles flirted with Dario’s hard mouth. Elie couldn’t help but laugh. Emme had a way about her. It was impossible not to love her.
He glanced over to the table where her bodyguards covered their grins behind their hands, pretending they couldn’t hear the conversation. Levi and Axel, ex-military, ex-mercenary, trained by Dario and always assigned to be Emme’s personal protectors. Elie knew them to be serious, astute and very intelligent men. Dario trusted few men, and if he trusted these with Emmanuelle’s protection, they had to be good men. More, the Ferraro family had investigated them thoroughly, not for criminal activity, but for their ability to protect Emme. No one found them wanting. It was easy to see they not only were good at what they did, but had developed a real affection for Emmanuelle.
Elie rubbed the ring on his finger. It had been made by one of the Ferraros’ many cousins, Damian Ferraro, a gifted jeweler who knew the exact ring needed before his customer did. In this case, his ring had to be able to travel with him into the shadows. Elie had been surprised to find his bride’s engagement ring had been fashioned from gems incapable of traveling into the shadows. He’d even questioned Damian as her papers declared her a rider. That would mean she would have to remove her ring before entering the shadows. Her actual wedding ring could be left on. Elie supposed it didn’t matter if she removed her engagement ring. He just found it odd that Damian had given his woman a more traditional gemstone, a blazing flawless emerald surrounded by several diamonds.
“You only say that because you know your friends won’t be able to resist me,” Dario said, reaching for his wineglass.
“What’s to resist? You never talk to anyone. You don’t look up from your phone. And you’re bossy beyond belief. I’m not even going to talk about your rather scary and unbelievable sexual preferences.”
Elie had taken a drink of water and immediately choked on it.
“You don’t know the first thing about my sexual preferences.” There was no change in Dario’s expression, on his face or in his voice.
“You don’t know that,” Emme challenged.
Those dark eyes that at times reminded Elie of twin pits of hell moved over Emmanuelle’s face. “Babe. Be serious.”
Emme leaned across the table and lowered her voice to a mere thread of sound. “You wouldn’t know if I was around in one of your kink clubs.”
“Don’t bet on it, Emme. I have a sixth sense when it comes to you. And you would never invade my privacy.”
Dario had her there. Elie knew, just as well as Dario did, that Emmanuelle might tease both men, but she would never use her ability to spy on them.
She did accompany her husband when he conducted business meetings in the strip or sex clubs. She was always in the shadows, unseen by his associates, or the many women who worked the clubs and did their best to entice their boss into lap dances or blow jobs. Elie knew it was particularly painful for Emmanuelle in the beginning to see the women fawning all over her husband, especially if Emme had helped them earlier and they’d pretended to be her friends. It also made it difficult to fully have faith that if Val didn’t know she was right there watching his every move, he wouldn’t take advantage of the many offers thrown at him. She’d confided in Elie that it worried her if she became pregnant and couldn’t ride the shadows or accommodate Valentino’s rather demanding sex drive, what he might do.
Elie thought a lot about her concerns. His wife would no doubt have similar concerns given the fact that she would know he didn’t love her. He had an extremely strong sex drive. Not only that, but he would be inclined to take his wife to a club if he could guarantee privacy and no cameras. He trusted Dario to give that to him so the chances were good that it would happen. She might have those same insecurities. He would have to find a way to make sure his wife didn’t feel uncertain of him.
Elie had advised Emmanuelle to talk to Val, to be open with him and he hoped she’d done so. He wanted to establish from the very beginning with his bride that they would be talking over every possible concern she had. He would expect her to communicate those with him, and if she didn’t, the longer she waited, the more the consequences. He hoped she had read every single one of his answers to the questions posed by the computer to make their match. He’d been honest. Very honest, just as he expected her to be. He’d read her answers so many times, he practically had them memorized. If she’d read his, there would be no surprises. She would know what kind of man she was getting.