Page 83 of Craving Chaos

“Has a cover,” he continues for me, lowering back down to lie at my side. “And I’ll buy a goddamn truckload of sheets if we need them. Never felt anything sexier than you squirting all over my cock. Jesus Christ, my woman can fuck.”

I can’t help myself. I toss my head back into the pillow and laugh from deep in my belly. When the laughter subsides and I bring my gaze back to Renzo, his hooded stare fills me with warm summer picnics and cozy winter nights by the fire. He doesn’t hold back an ounce of his adoration. He shows me everything he feels and gives me all that he is.

How could I ever consider refusing that sort of honesty and devotion? It’s the greatest gift I’ve ever received, and I won’t give it up for anything.

“You know, you’re stuck with me now,” I whisper to him, the tiniest hint of my insecurities resurfacing.

“Stuck implies a need to escape, and I don’t ever want to be free of you.”

“Okay,” I breathe.

“Okay,” he says back.

As simple as that, my heart is his. Signed, sealed, and delivered.

CHAPTER 49

RENZO

“You think anyone else noticed I wasn’t there?” Shae asks lazily, her body entwined with mine now that we’ve showered and moved to the guest bed.

“I’d say it’s a safe bet I wasn’t the only one.”

She sighs.

“What was the lead you were following?”

She takes a slow breath as if preparing to unload the news of a loved one’s death. “It’s kind of a long story, but when we got back from Quebec, my place had been ransacked.”

I prop myself up on an elbow and stare incredulously. “And you’re just telling me this now?”

Her hand presses against my chest, her face staying serene. “Things were complicated, Renzo. I told my family, though. It wasn’t like I kept it a secret.”

I don’t like it. My irritation is irrational, I know that, but I still don’t like it. I lie on my back and try to convince my body to relax. “You figure out who it was?”

“I’m almost certain it was the woman I was seeing, though I didn’t even suspect her until a few days ago.”

“What made you think it was her?” I’m curious where this is going. I don’t know anything about the woman, and I’m suddenly wishing I’d asked a few questions.

“Nothing tangible at first, but when I heard you’d gone to Canada and connected the airstrip to the name Kola, it seemed like too much of a coincidence.”

This time, I sit all the way upright. “Are you telling me this woman is connected to the Albanians?”

“I discovered tonight that she is Albanian.” Shae sits up with me, pulling the sheet around her. “I met up with her under the pretense of reconciling.”

“Jesus, Shae. Did your family know you were meeting up with her?”

She glares at me, then continues as if I hadn’t spoken. “Everything seemed kosher during our talk, but I nabbed her passport from her purse on a whim. She lied to me about her name. I knew her as Mari Cola.”

“Italian,” I note.

“Right. But her real name is Marsela Kola. Albanian. And the booklet was half full of stamps for Canada.”

I roll off the bed and hold out my hand for her. “Come on. We’re getting out of here.”

She doesn’t move at first as though she’s debating whether to argue.

“Until we know exactly what’s going on, even you have to admit that my place is safer. No reason to take chances.” I’m able to keep my cool, but only because I know she’ll never cooperate if I don’t. What I actually want to do is rage at her for staying here when she knew it wasn’t safe. And she still doesn’t have a damn alarm. I bite my cheek to keep my thoughts to myself.

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