the plane came to a complete stop, noticing the jacket from his suit over my arms, but he kept me in place. A second later, he picked me up.
“It’s customary,” he said, “for a man to carry his wife over the threshold.”
I grinned, but I could tell that the mood that had followed him from Forza d’Agrò had caught up, or never left. It started after he had a conversation with his nonno.
He carried me to a waiting car. It was too dark to see anything but the immediate area around us. Corrado pulled out a long strip of black silk and told me to turn around in my seat. I did, and he secured it over my eyes.
“This is overkill,” I said, but smiled. “I cannot see in the dark.”
“You might figure it out on the ride, or if you see our next mode of transportation.”
All I could tell was that our next mode of transportation was a boat. I could smell water in the air and feel the sway of it beneath his feet. He still refused to let me walk.
It did not take us long to get to wherever we were going, but we did not disembark right away. The men from the plane were whispering to each other, and as soon as Nunzio told Corrado all was okay, he lifted me up and started walking. This part seemed to take time, because he was being careful of his steps.
Finally, he set me down on my feet, and I had to secure the jacket over my shoulders before it fell to the floor. I lifted the collar closer to my face, inhaling, my heart rising and my stomach dropping at his scent. A second later he took it from me, and I stuck my hands in the pockets of the dress, not sure what to do with them.
Even though I could not see him, I felt him moving around me, as if he were appraising me.
“You are so beautiful,” he said to me in Sicilian, his voice coming from behind. I craved the heat of his body. My head fell back, letting the weight of it settle against his chest. His fingertips barely traced the cross around my neck and then brushed my bare arms, my back as he moved toward the zipper of the dress.
“That’s one of my favorite sounds,” he said. “Me undressing you.” The dress made no noise as it hit the floor, but my body was instantly aware of his heat. No barriers, except for the lace lingerie.
His arms came around me, pulling me closer. Already his cazzo was hard enough to strain against his pants.
I hissed out a breath when his hands searched my body, and then sucked it back in when he pulled me against him roughly, his cazzo to my behind. His hand fisted underneath my hair, tugging, and I gave him access to my neck, the frantic pulse there.
“You’re a fucking weapon, Alcina,” he said. “Either your love or this—” his hand slid, roaming over the cream lace, until he touched me in the spot, the one that made me moan “—is going to kill me.”
“Bang,” I whispered.
He had started to suck over my pulse, but at that, he grinned against my skin.
He removed the silk from around my eyes, and I blinked against the soft light, the new place. He had turned me toward what would probably be the most stunning views come morning.
An arched doorway, much taller than me, taller than him, stretched from the floor to the ceiling. There were no lights to see by, but I could make out the outlines. There was a lake, or some kind of body of water, and mountains beyond it.
“Where are we?” I whispered, straining to put the lines together and form clearer shapes.
“Menaggio,” he said.
“Como,” I said and then whirled to face him. “Lake Como.”
He nodded. “This is ours.”
I narrowed my eyes at him, and not because he had already stepped out of his shoes. I wondered just how wealthy he was. I had no idea…
“My grandparents wanted us to have something special.” He shrugged. “He’s been holding on to it for a while. He bought it years ago, along with another property not too far from here. He thought you would enjoy it.”
I was not sure what to say. It seemed like his grandfather liked looking at me, but he did not like me. Anna told me I was being foolish, but I wondered if he approved