Page 106 of Where Wild Hearts Dance
I bite my lip and nod, then move off the ledge. “I’m going to go to my room and shower,” I say, changing the subject. “You’re sure you can’t go back to sleep?”
“Are you kidding?” She grins. “Even if I could, Iwouldn’t want to. It’s the day of the rehearsal! And I’m getting married tomorrow! To Cristiano!”
My smile widens at the flush spreading across her cheeks. Her eyes dance with excitement and her whole body lights up. Without thinking, I throw my arms around her neck.
“Yes you bloody are!” I squeal into her shoulder. “And it’s going to be the best wedding ever!”
And as the words leave my lips, I know without a doubt it really is.
Contessa
I take advantage of my inability to sleep by taking a walk along the beach, relishing the feel of the warm sand between my toes and the soft breeze in my hair. I feel lighter than I have done in a while, and despite the confusion I’m battling around my feelings for Benito, I cannot wait to see Cristiano and Trilby become husband and wife.
For all intents and purposes, this is a mafia marriage, bringing two families together, albeit willingly, for mutual benefit. But from where I’m standing, it’s the marriage of two souls who love each other so much it sometimes makes my eyes hurt.
I glance at my watch and realize I have only one hour before I have to join the weddingparty and prepare for the rehearsal. I hurry back to my room and change into the bridesmaid dress. Trilby chose a beautiful dusky rose taffeta for all our dresses, which somehow compliments our various skin tones and eye colors. Me with my pale skin, jet black hair and green eyes; Sera with her equally pale skin, auburn hair and blue eyes; and Bambi with her dark hair, olive skin and rich brown eyes.
The styles are all different too. Sera’s dress is backless with a halter neckline and empire waist; Bambi’s dress is short and light, cut to bounce around her knees as she walks; while mine is strapless and fitted, with a beautiful long slice up the right thigh. It reminds me of the dress I wore to Gianni Di Santo’s funeral all those months ago.
As I gaze back at my reflection I have to concede it really is a beautiful dress and the color does highlight my better features. Still, I can’t help but feel a little bit itchy that it isn’t black.
I pick up the pearl-covered purse that Trilby had specially made for each of us as a bridesmaid gift and make my way down the main staircase. The wedding party is gathering in one of the function rooms on the ground floor, away from the main hall where the ceremony will take place.
I silently curse that an imaginary bug cut short the tour I should have had from Sera when we first arrived because I really don’t know where to go. There are signs nailed to the walls, pointing to beautiful room names, but I have no idea which room we are meeting in. Iremind myself Cristiano has hired pretty much the entire hotel so it’s unlikely I’ll go far wrong.
I turn into a corridor and follow the sound of voices. They’re coming from a room at the far end, but I’m curious to see what the other rooms look like. I decide to take a sneaky look before the rehearsal gets underway and I become swept up in the mayhem.
The first door to my left is called ‘Maine’. The interior is beautifully colonial—lots of white rattan furniture and nautical striped cushions. A large glass-topped table forms the focal point, reflecting the mid-morning sun.
I close the door softly and cross the corridor to another. I push it open and step into the room. ‘Manhattan’ has a more masculine feel—dark wood paneling, gold picture lights and leather club chairs surrounding a solid wood boardroom table. I decide I much prefer the other one and start to back out of the room. But the door closes sharply and a hand wraps around my face, flattening my cheeks.
My body lights up everywhere, my core smoldering at the memory of last night. Shamefully, I want nothing more than to feel his large hands on my thighs, beneath this beautiful dress, his tongue licking and probing at my lace underwear, my fingers wrapped around his erection… But I’m already late and I’m wearing a bridesmaid dress for heaven’s sake.
I go to turn around, mumbling a weak protest into his palm, when the door flies open and Benito steps through it, his face contorting into somethingdeadly.
It takes me too long to figure out what’s happening. Benito is standing in front of me. So,whois holding his hand over my mouth?
Alarmed, I try to scream but it’s muffled. The hand squeezes me tighter, then I’m pulled back against a hard chest. Another hand whips out from behind me and points a gun at Benito. I struggle against the chest but whoever has me in a headlock is freakishly strong. I start to hyperventilate, unable to grasp air.
My brain scrambles. Why would anyone here want to kill Benito? Cristiano has this place locked down—anyone who isn’t a trusted guest or member of the wedding party is allowed within a two mile radius. Is there a traitor on the inside?
I try to shout “No!” but the word is absorbed by the solid palm.
My gaze darts frantically to Benito. He is eerily calm, as though he’s used to people attempting to assassinate him on a fairly regular basis. He even drops his gaze to hisphone, and types something out before sliding it into his pocket. A soft exhale leaves his lips, then he says, “Put the gun down, Federico.”
What??
I somehow find strength I couldn’t before—perhaps it’s knowing that my childhood friend, myfirst, wouldn’t truly hurt me—and I duck out of his grasp, then spin around, my arms outstretched, hands braced.
The air is swiped from my lungs.
ItisFederico—the boy I lost my virginity to three years ago. The boy I mourned for weeks, months,yearsafter he left, who never wrote me back… until a couple of months ago.
“Fed…” I gasp, words forming on my tongue but not quite sailing on the air. “What are you doing?”
“What I promised I would do. Now get back Tess. You don’t want to see this.”
He cocks the gun and I don’t even think. I throw myself at him, knocking him backward into the table. Another click of metal sounds behind me.
