Page 33 of His to Keep
I untie the belt and examine each of her wrists. They’re a little red, even though she didn’t struggle against her bonds. I kiss the marks the leather left on her skin. Eilidh rests her head on my chest, seeking comfort I’m only too willing to give. I wrap my arm around her shoulders and hold her tight as she starts to cry, purging whatever emotions are running through her right now.
“You want to take a nap?” I ask when she finally quiets.
“Aye.” She swipes at her cheeks, drying the tears. “That would be nice.”
She winces as I pull her to her feet, but doesn’t complain. I draw back the covers and she crawls into bed. Laying her head on the pillow, she looks impossibly young. I’m only four years older, but right now, I feel like decades lie between us. Despite all she’sbeen through, Eilidh retains an innocence. It’s up to me to shield her from the worst harms the world could yet inflict.
“Get some sleep,” I tell her. “I’ll send Rosalia up in a couple of hours to help you get ready.”
“Okay.” Eilidh’s agreement surprises me. “I won’t fight you anymore.”
As she closes her eyes, I turn and leave the room. I need to call Antonio to update him on the situation and find out if there’s any news from Niamh about the men who’re no doubt searching for us. Eilidh may have agreed not to fight me, but until I know we’re safe, I won’t be able to let my guard down. Not for a second.
CHAPTER 12
Eilidh
Sitting here with my ass stinging from a punishment while a complete stranger styles my hair for my wedding is a surreal experience. The whole situation is impossible to wrap my head around. Two days ago, I was in my bedroom in a house belonging to the man who’d held me captive for four years. Though I could never consider that my home, there was something comforting in the familiarity of the four walls I spent much of my time locked within. I grew accustomed to the rhythm of the household, the mealtimes and cleaning schedules. It was a bland existence, but one I understood.
Now I’m in an entirely different country, freed from one type of imprisonment and trapped in another. Gio may allow me to speak more openly than I ever could have around Jason, but he’s no less determined to dictate my future than my previous jailer was.
In thirty minutes, I’ll be standing downstairs before a priest, exchanging vows with a man I barely know. An arrangedmarriage was always going to be my destiny, but I always imagined my father would give me time to come to terms with the idea. He’d have let me meet with my future groom to see if we were compatible. I’d have had my family around to support me.
I can picture exactly how my wedding day would have been. My mother and sisters would be the ones fussing over my hair and makeup, dressing me in a gown we’d all shopped for together. Jamie and Alexander would have eased my tension by goofing around as they always did at family occasions. They’d have played the big brother card and threatened the groom with dire retribution if he’d ever hurt me. I’d have pretended to be pissed at their heavy-handedness, while secretly being thrilled they were looking out for me. Dad would have gotten uncharacteristically sentimental, telling me how beautiful I was and tearing up over his baby being all grown up. Then he’d have pushed his broad shoulders back, held his head high, and walked me down the aisle.
Although I’d probably have rolled my eyes at my family’s antics, it kills me to think I’ll never experience their sometimes suffocating love for me again. A tear wells in my eye and I blink it away. Glancing at my reflection in the dressing table mirror, I see such sorrow in my eyes I can’t bear to look at myself. I quickly avert my gaze.
“You’re unhappy,” Rosalia observes.
If a woman I met only a couple of hours ago can read my emotions so clearly, I’m not doing a good job of hiding them.
“I don’t want to get married.”
The Italian girl tilts her head to one side as she regards me carefully. “You don’t likeSignoreVolante?”
“I don’tdislike him.” It’s an honest answer. Gio’s not a bad man as far as I can tell. From what I’ve seen he has a sense of honor that’s rare and a reasonable level of intelligence. Then there’s his handsome face and incredible body. If I was judging purely on physical attributes, he’d be the top of any list of potential husbands. “I just don’t want to marry him.”
“Is it because he’s Mafia?” Rosalia’s question confirms what I wondered about, whether she knew what type of men she’s working for.
“In a way.” His family ties don’t put me off, but what they represent does. “Once you’re in, you can’t leave. Marriage is like a life sentence.”
Rosalia smiles sympathetically. “Is it new to you, the Mafia?”
“No, my father was involved in the Scottish Mafia.”
“So, you knew about it, your mamma knew about it?”
“Yes.”
My dad made no secret of who he was or how he earned the luxurious lifestyle we enjoyed. I mean, to the outside world, he was a successful businessman, but within the family we were all aware of his involvement in organized crime. My brothers both became a part of the family business when they were old enough and my father often sought counsel from my mother. She was good at seeing a situation from all angles.
My mother was well aware of my father’s brutal side. He didn’t use violence to intimidate us into obedience, but rather as a tool to make us all feel safe. Until the night he died, I truly believedthat no bad guy could ever vanquish my father. He was my hero and seeing him fall left me doubting that any man can ever truly protect his family. It’s what’s made me determined to protect myself, even from Gio if need be.
“Was your mamma unhappy in her marriage?” Rosalia asks.
“No.” I’m sure, like any couple, they had their ups and downs, but my parents’ marriage was solid. Loving and attentive to each other’s needs, they provided a model for the type of relationship I aspire to. “She loved my dad. They were perfect together.”
“Perhaps your marriage will be the same, if you giveSignoreVolante a chance.”
