Page 18 of Now and Forever

Stately sitting rooms with fireplaces taller than I linked the different rooms. Near the back of the house, in a room with floor-to-ceiling windows, the furniture was absent. No doubt this space was about to be used for the wedding tomorrow. After a few wrong turns, I found the massive kitchen.

While Dario’s mother had walked us through this area, she hadn’t taken time to point out the different features. Without searching for a light switch, I utilized the ambient lighting under cupboards only to discover that all of the cupboards and appliances were covered by the same façade. Cabinets and appliances all looked alike.

Through trial and error, I finally found the refrigerators. The first double doors I opened revealed the entire industrial sized refrigerator filled with silver-covered trays holding food for tomorrow’s wedding reception. It was in the second refrigerator where I found what I’d been hoping for. On the bottom shelf were numerous dishes of the dinner we’d been served, covered, and left for anyone who missed their meal.

I hadn’t missed it. While sitting in the giant dining room surrounded by what seemed like everyone except the future groom, I’d failed to do more than push the lamb, potatoes, and fresh vegetables around my plate.

Since Lola had a habit of preparing extra servings, I’d hoped the Lucianos’ cook did as well. Lola did it for the cartel guards and soldiers who missed mealtime. This way they always had something to eat when they could spare a moment. I felt a twinge of guilt at taking someone’s meal; however, there were multiple plates, and I doubted they would all be claimed.

Within the glow of the refrigerator’s light, I chose a plate with a smaller portion. My mouth watered with anticipation of the tender roasted lamb I’d barely consumed earlier in the evening. As I started to close the icebox’s door, I stifled a scream, almost dropping the plate of food.

A tall man wearing a dark suit reached for my wrist. His grip tightened as his stare scanned over my unmade-up face, flowing hair, and the robe covering my nightgown.

“Let go of me,” I said, feigning all the strength possible.

“Armando,” a deep voice reprimanded.

The man released my wrist, and we both turned toward the deep voice.

I sucked in a breath at the vision of my fiancé. While he appeared tired, there was still an overpoweringly dominant look to him, as if at every turn he was in charge. After a day and night of whatever he did, Dario’s tie was gone, his collar open at his neck, and the sleeves to his white shirt were rolled up to his elbows, revealing muscular forearms. His long legs were covered with gray pants, and his leather loafers moved silently over the kitchen floor.

Dario came closer, displaying a hint of a smile. “We didn’t mean to frighten you.”

His deep voice and proximity ricocheted through me, firing synapses of my nerves with tiny explosions. I took a step back, keeping my focus on Dario. “I wasn’t hungry during dinner. Arianna said to make ourselves at home.”

Dario’s lips curved upward. “After tomorrow, this will be your home.” He nodded toward the man with the iron grip. “This is Armando.” Dario looked around the kitchen. “Where is Miguel?”

“You know Miguel?”

“I know everything I can about what’s mine and what is about to be mine. I know he’s supposed to be watching over you, keeping you safe, and if this is any indication, he’s failed.”

I didn’t want to throw Miguel under the bus. He’d been omnipresent throughout most of my life. It wasn’t his fault I slipped away. “I didn’t tell him I was leaving. I simply wanted a bite to eat.”

“Armando will be in charge of your safety beginning tomorrow.”

I knew Miguel would stay with Camila and the cartel. Swallowing, I looked up at the man who moments earlier was ready to crush my wrist. “Armando.”

His once-fierce expression melted before my eyes. “Ma’am. I apologize for earlier.”

“He won’t be touching you again,” Dario said in a tone that I assumed was meant more for Armando than I.

I shook my head. “It’s my fault for sneaking around.” I put the plate back in the refrigerator and reached for the door. “I’ll go back to my room. I’ve lost my appetite.”

Before I could close the door, Dario stepped closer, his cologne mixed with a masculine scent filling my senses and simultaneously sending a bolt of lightning directly to my core. Under the harsh refrigerator lighting, his features were more pronounced—his high cheekbones and dark eyes. There was a dark shadow of stubble on his chiseled jawline.

I stepped back as he reached past me for the plate and closed the refrigerator door, dimming the room. “You said you didn’t eat earlier.”

“Nerves, I suppose.”

Taking the plate, Dario walked across the kitchen and opened a microwave that would have taken me multiple tries to find. “I can warm this for you.”

I started to say he didn’t need to, but before I could, he removed the covering, closed the microwave door, and hit buttons.

Turning, he leaned against the counter and casually crossed his ankles. “We won’t live here.” He shared the information so nonchalantly as if where we lived wasn’t pertinent, as if I would be moving in with him in months not hours.

I’d been given that information. Of course, not from Dario. “In Kansas City?”

He nodded. “We have an apartment in the city. Your father had your things shipped there.” He grinned. “However, when we’re here…” He scanned me up and down and lifted a brow. “I would recommend more clothing for middle-of-the-night walks. Our guards come and go out of the kitchen at all hours.”

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