Page 78 of Thorns of Desire
“It is.”
She chewed on her bottom lip. “And this is not how I envisioned my life going.”
“Life isn’t really known to follow a plan.”
“You don’t say,” she said.
“Tell me how you envisioned your life,” I said, ignoring her sarcasm. “We’re not leaving until you do.”
She sombered, puckering her lips. I decided to be patient, letting her collect her thoughts.
“I just didn’t want to repeat my mother’s mistakes,” she finally said, fidgeting with a strand of her hair and twisting it around her finger over and over again. “And here I am, knocked up out of wedlock.”
Understanding dawned on me.
“You want to get married,” I reasoned.
She released an exasperated breath. “I wanted to be marriedbeforea baby entered the picture.”
Satisfaction ran hot through my blood. I initially planned to take it slow and ease her into the idea of marriage, but this might be even better.
I grinned. “You wish to get married, so we’ll get married.”
She blinked. “That’s not what I said.”
I chuckled. “But it’s what you meant.”
She rolled her eyes, making a frustrated sound in her throat. “I meant that people are supposed to get married, do the whole white-picket-fence thing,thenstart talking about children. Not have a one-night stand, get pregnant, and then?—”
I leaned in to nip her bottom lip to stop her from rambling.
“We’re not just any people.” If I knew she’d cope with hearing it, I would have told her that I loved her already. But I knewI’d have to exercise patience there too. “And if you want a white picket fence,amorina,I’ll build one around this whole estate.”
Cazzo, I’d build her a damn arena if that was what she wanted.
I kissed her deeply and she sighed into my mouth while my insides burned with fire that I feared would consume me. This was what the Marchetti men were known for. Falling fast, loving hard.
Sign me the fuck up.
I slapped her butt and she yelped.
“Ouch.” She glared at me. “What was that for?”
“Get dressed so we can go shopping.”
I turned around and left her in the closet filled with both of our belongings and stopped in front of the French window. My property stretched for miles, and the sight meant more than ever before. I would live out the rest of my days here with Athena and our child. I’d teach him or her to love and appreciate it as much as I do. The tangy smell of tangerines, the slightly salty air from the sea, the vineyards that surrounded the property.
The future seemed brighter than ever before.
I pulled out my phone and typed instructions to my staff, then I shot a message to Enrico. It was about time he returned the countless favors I was owed.
My driver rolled into town, taking the alternate route as instructed. I wanted Athena to see as much of the island as possible, and as she stared out of the car with wide eyes, her nose pressed to the car window, I knew it was the right choice.
With fascination and little excited gasps, she took in her new home. Granted, she didn’t know we were living here yet.
I wasn’t a normal man, and our life would always be lived in the shadows because of my work in the Omertà. The Triads posed a threat to her in Paris it seemed, and despite having a plethora of enemies even here in Omertà territory, she was safest in Italy. I wouldn’t take any chances with Athena and our child. I vowed to make her happy; she deserved the best of everything.
My phone rang, but Athena didn’t pay it any attention. Her entire focus was on the sights passing us by—Torre di Guevara, a historical 16th-century building next to the sea in a panoramic bay of Cartaromana, overlooking Ischia Ponte and our castello.
