Page 75 of Mafia And Taken

I couldn’t help hoping that Cate, too, would be pregnant soon.

That night after I had got into bed with Cate and turned off the lamp on my nightstand, everything was silent.

Then I sensed Cate turn toward me and I felt her come willingly into my arms, resting her head on my shoulder. Usually, I always had to pull her into my hold.

We lay like that for a couple of minutes and then Cate moved her hand down until she reached the waistband of my boxer briefs.

I grabbed her hand and stopped her. She was trying to initiate sex with me.

“No,” I gritted out. “I love you and I want you, but I don’t want sex as gratitude in exchange for calling your grandmother.”

I knew that was the reason why she was doing this, and that wasn’t what I wanted. I wanted her to come to me willingly, not because she felt obligated to have sex with me in return for the privileges I granted her.

“Now go to sleep.” My voice was harder than I intended, but I was angry with her, and I was even more angry with myself.

My need for her was like a blazing fire deep inside me.

However, I needed not just her body, but also her mind and her soul.

CHAPTER 27

ALESSIO

In the days that followed, Cate moved past her initial anger.

And although she was trying to act fine, I was worried that she was perhaps falling into a mild depression.

She spent time with us during the day and during meals, but she was always quiet then. She would answer my questions and she was definitely not sulking, but she often seemed far away.

She sat by the pool with us; however, she always read her book rather than talking or swimming. I noticed that she’d been stuck at the start of the same book for over a week now. She looked at the pages, but she didn’t seem to take it in.

“Isn’t it a good book?” Juliana asked one day.

“Oh no, it’s great,” she answered, her smile overly bright.

I watched as Juliana put her hand on Cate’s arm and spoke quietly to her. “These Marchiano men…they’re quite high maintenance. I’ve been through it myself, so I’m here if you ever need to talk.”

“Thanks,” whispered Cate back to her. I didn’t know if Cate would take Juliana up on her offer—she struck me as a private person who seemed to keep her thoughts and emotions to herself.

I knew Cate liked to draw, so I got all sorts of art supplies for her. “I got you some things for drawing today, cara.”

“Oh, yes?”

“I know you like to draw, so I got you some equipment since all your stuff is back in Chicago.”

She looked politely through it all. “It’s great,” she said in a subdued tone.

“Do you want to try some of this out now? I’ll set it up for you if you like?”

“I’ll use it later, thank you.”

It was as if a light had gone off inside of her. She didn’t even touch any of the art equipment over the course of the next few days. I brought it out to the pool one day and got the easel, paper, and charcoals out and set up for her. She sat in front of the easel, but she just stared at the blank paper.

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing, um…artist’s block.” But in Chicago, she had been happy to draw whatever was around her.

That night, as we got undressed for bed, I asked, “Cate, what’s wrong?”

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