in the room with them, watching, and more than once, when she thought she might throw up because the pain was too much, he had stood up and simply snapped, “Enough.” No one ever dared contradict him and her shoulder was immediately iced, and she could breathe her way through the pain enough to let it recede.
The more she sat there quietly on the ride back to the house, his warmth enveloping her, feeling safe and secure because he took care of her when she was unable to, the more she realized how much she wanted that. How many men would actually give her that kind of relationship without being totally controlling? Vittorio had never once made her feel as if he was controlling her. He made her feel as if she was the most precious, treasured woman in the world and he was determined to watch over her.
Without thinking she moved closer to him, fitting under his shoulder. His body was always warm and the moment she moved close, he put his arm along the seat and then curved it around her shoulders. That felt good. He hadn’t done that in what seemed a very long while. She rested her head against his chest without looking at him. She was afraid of what she might see if she did. She didn’t want the mask he wore around others. She wanted the true intimacy he had given her, the real Vittorio, the real man. He had offered her that man and she’d been so afraid she’d rejected him.
“What’s wrong, gattina?”
His soft inquiry nearly stopped her heart. She hadn’t heard that voice in over a week—the one that was for her alone, the one that sent desire dancing down her spine or heating her sex to a welcoming liquid honey. He hadn’t called her his special nickname for her, either. She hadn’t realized how much she wanted either until that moment.
He touched her face and she realized it was wet. Tears tracked down her cheeks. She turned her face into his chest and he fit the back of her head into his palm, saying nothing else until the car slowed and then stopped. That simple gesture had felt intimate and caring as well, as if he offered her silent comfort and yet didn’t want to call attention to the fact that she was crying. She detested making a spectacle of herself in front of his bodyguards, or anyone for that matter. She liked to stay out of the spotlight.
The house was a mixture of more than one style of architecture. Its nine thousand square feet stretched out in three clearly different sections, rather like welcoming arms. At the very center of the house was a tall turret held up by the structure itself, stone and white square pillars. Beneath the high turret was an open patio with a stone floor and two sets of glass doors that opened into a dining room from one and a sitting room from the other. The tower was surrounded by long, narrow, multipaned windows that opened outward.
Elongated arms or wings extended out on either side of the elegant turret. The drive allowed the family car to circle to a sheltered entry extending out from the right-side wing. It was covered, but more importantly, secluded, preventing anyone, even someone with a pair of powerful binoculars or a scope on a rifle, from seeing the members of the family or their guests exit the car and enter the house.
As soon as Emilio opened the passenger door, Vittorio was out, but he reached back in to help her slide from the car. Exiting a vehicle was still difficult. Grace felt top-heavy with her arm and shoulder still so stiff and painful, preventing any real movement. As always when they walked anywhere, Vittorio had his hand on her, in this case, right on the small of her back. She felt the heat of his palm burning through the thin material of her shirt.
Mariko had helped her shower and dress that morning, but she was getting much more adept. She still had her arm in a sling when she wasn’t doing physical therapy, but dressing one-handed was getting to be a little easier. There was more movement in her shoulder and the more she worked the fingers on her hand, the more she was able to.
“You look tired, Grace. I’m going to take you to your suite and run a bath for you. I’ve texted Merry and she’ll have a