Page 104 of Mafia Mistress

His expression softened. “There is an expression in Italiano: ‘Hai voluto la bicicletta? E adesso pedala!’”

“What does it mean?”

“‘Did you want the bicycle? Now ride it.’ I wanted the bicycle, Francesca. Whatever the consequences, I will face them alone.”

I pressed my lips together and stared out at the cows grazing in the field. “Will you be safe?”

He dipped his finger inside my shirt, then inside my bra, to graze my bare skin. “I will take every precaution, if only to return back to this.” He fingered my nipple. “Will you wait up for me?”

“Yes.” I knew I wouldn’t be able to sleep, worrying about car bombs and bullets instead. “Are you taking guards with you?”

“Of course. And Marco.”

“Good.”

The horses grew restless and we started toward the stables again. Worry had settled in my stomach, but I tried not to let it show on my face. The thought of losing him….

Something that had been bothering me popped into my mind. “Why doesn’t Marco like me?”

He tried to cover his surprise but failed. “What makes you say such things?”

“I can tell he doesn’t like me. You don’t need to hide it, Fausto. I just don’t understand why. We’ve hardly spoken two words to each other since I arrived.”

I hadn’t ever seen Fausto uncomfortable before, but he clearly was now. He studied the ground and fidgeted with the reins. “He believes my attention is lacking, which is not true. But he blames you for it, for distracting me.”

My jaw fell open, but I closed it quickly. “You work more than anyone else I know.” Certainly more than my father or uncle.

“Still, I have taken more time away in this last month than ever before. But it doesn’t matter who likes you, piccolina. Only if I like you.”

“And do you? Like me, I mean.”

I sounded needy and insecure, but I didn’t care. Chuckling, he grabbed the reins of my horse and pulled us both to a stop. Then, he grabbed me by the back of the neck and brought our mouths together, kissing me deeply. It felt like a stamp of possession with no respite, no escape, and I reveled in every second.

“What do you think? Do I like you?”

My grin nearly split my face. Who needed words when he treated me like a queen and kissed me like his life depended on it? “Yes, I think you do.”

“See? And they say Canadian girls aren’t smart.”

I smacked his shoulder. “You’d better be nice or this not-smart girl won’t suck your dick again.”

He made a dismissive hand gesture. “You could never resist my dick, even if you tried. You’re practically panting every time I take my clothes off.”

“True. I’ll have to think of something else to threaten you with.”

I was smiling as we rode into the stables and dismounted. Fausto returned to the castello, leaving his horse with a groom, but I insisted on unsaddling and brushing Piccola Monella myself. Once she was settled, I decided to go in and shower. I smelled like sex, horses and Fausto.

In my room, I saw something green on my pillow. What on earth? Were those caterpillars?

They were pea pods. Zia had obviously stopped by. Shaking my head at her, I started to get undressed while munching on the peas. The poor woman. Giulio would give her great grand nieces and nephews, but probably not anytime soon. And I knew I wasn’t—

I paused mid-chew. Wait, when was my last period? Had it been three weeks ago? No, that was Rome. Was it a week before that?

Had I even bled since coming to Italy? Yes, when I first came, because I had been relieved to find tampons in the bathroom.

Panic started building in my chest, but I forced it down. It was too soon to be pregnant, right?

I snatched my phone and opened my calendar app. I usually tracked my cycle, but my phone was back in Toronto. With the kidnapping and everything going on here, I hadn’t even thought about it. My shot should still be effective, right?

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