Page 71 of Tarnished Reign

“Your stepbrother?”

“Yes.”

“But you’ve known him, what, a year?”

“And? He’s a great kid, Dimitri.”

I love her using my name.

“He’s in that house, and even before I knew my stepmother was related to some very dodgy people, I was seriously concerned for his welfare. My father, he drinks too much.

She’s still looking away from me, her face sad in profile as she watches the ocean.

“Hana, well, she’s downright neglectful. She forgets to get him from school. The food in the house isn’t what a kid of that age needs or wants. She’d leave seafood salad in the fridge, and he hates shellfish, but when he said he was hungry she’d snap there was food in the fridge. I used to make him stuff: meatballs and spaghetti and pizza, things like that.”

“I mean, seafood salad doesn’t sound like terrible abuse,” I say carefully.

“It is if you hate seafood, and that’s all there is in the fridge. That and her bottles of Chablis, of course. She’d start on the wine before noon some days and then be too gone to remember to pick him up.”

“So her and your father both drink a lot?”

“Yes.”

I don’t tell her what I’m thinking because I need to look into it further, but if Cade is related to Dorian and Ari, and perhaps others in that organization, there’s a chance they’ve already earmarked him for entry into their gang once he’s a teenager. When I’m done with them, there won’t be a damn thing left, so at least he’s saved from that fate.

She’s sad, and that isn’t the mood I want for her tonight. I want to get inside her, to drown myself in her, but I also want to wash the sadness away for a while and make her feel good. She’s been through hell, and for a while, I want us both to forget. We can lose ourselves to each other.

“Where would you take a vacation if you could go anywhere in the world?”

She laughs. “That’s easy. Italy and Greece. I’ve always wanted to visit Athens and see the birthplace of democracy and then visit Rome and Florence.”

I wonder if we could take a trip when this is all over, and then I come up short. She wants marriage. Kids, or at least someone to raise her stepbrother with. I’d be a terrible candidate. All the men in my life were awful role models, and they always say we take after our early role models. I’d rather never have a kid than risk screwing one up for life.

Plus, the tinnitus and my hearing may at any time get worse. I could end up losing what little sanity I have left.

I’d be a terrible father and not much better as a husband.

If only she were a career girl, or a materialistic woman who wanted nothing more than a glamorous life full of travel and luxury. I could give her that. Then again, would she have the same soul-tugging vulnerability if she were those things? Her experiences, her hopes and dreams are a huge part of what make up the magical mix that is Adriana. Without them, my Littleblue wouldn’t be the same person, and I probably wouldn’t be half as enthralled as I am.

I kiss her shoulder again. “I can take you to Rome.” I make promises that should never leave my lips before pressing my mouth once more to her warm skin. “Florence too. I’d take you to the bay of Naples and to Pompeii.”

I bite softly at her shoulder, and she gasps.

Gently, I take the glass of champagne from her and place it on the table beside me. I turn her to face me and frame her face with my hands, eyes searching the perfection of her features.

I could drink her for hours, days, hell, years, and never get bored of looking at her. It’s not just plain lust; it’s something more. I fucking love her face.

She smiles, and those tiny dimples pop. I want to devour her.

I exert the control I’m famous for and brush my lips softly over hers.

I’m going to blow her mind, so she’ll crave more.

If I can’t be the man she thinks she wants, the stable husband of her fantasies, I’ll become the man she craves.

I’ll become her drug, the thing she needs.

Then she won’t be able to easily walk away, not even if she wants more than I can offer.

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