Beautiful Prey 2: The Storm Series (BWWM Romance) (21 page)

She looked across the table at Gianni’s clean shaven face.
Even without his sexy five o’clock shadow, he had the air of a “bad boy.”
Gianni had successfully needled his way into Natasha’s system. She was sure
that she would be devastated when he decided to move on.

“Gianni, I noticed that the condom
you put on the nightstand last night is still there.”

Gianni lifted his fork to his mouth
and responded, “Yes. I know.”

Natasha waited on him to elaborate,
but he simply shoved his eggs into his mouth. She narrowed her eyes at him and
prepared to pounce, but before she could utter a word, Gianni cut her off. “You
knew that I wasn’t wearing a condom. Why didn’t you stop me?”

“I... I..,” she stammered, but Gianni
cut her off again.

“You didn’t stop me because the feeling
of having no barrier between us is like heaven. And besides, you’re my wife.
I’m not wearing a condom with my wife,” he said, shoving more eggs into his
mouth.

“Speaking of being your wife, have you
figured out what we’re going to do” Are we gonna get an annulment or a
divorce?”

“Well, we can’t get an annulment.
We’ve already consummated our marriage.”

“So then we get a divorce?”

“We can’t Natasha.”

“What? What the hell do you mean, we
can’t?” 

“I’m Catholic,” he nonchalantly
replied. “I can’t get a divorce.”

Natasha sat upright in her seat,
staring at Gianni as if he’d lost his mind. Was he serious? Did he know what he
was saying? She began to wonder if she’d misunderstood. Natasha took a deep
breath and tried not to panic.

“Gianni, what are you saying to me?”

Gianni placed his fork on the table
and looked up at Natasha. “I’m saying that you’re my wife and you’re going to
stay my wife, until death do us part.”

Natasha leaped to her feet, flipping
her chair. She was in a full fledge panic. Tears fell from her eyes, as she
began to pace back and forth. She glanced at Gianni, confused by the hurt look
on his face. Didn’t he want to get out of this marriage?

“Gianni, you don’t know what you’re
saying! You don’t want this! You don’t want this! Do you hear me? Gianni, you
DO NOT want this!”

Gianni stood to his feet. He slowly
walked over to where Natasha was having her meltdown. He grabbed her shoulders
and held her still. He looked her in the eye and asked, “Is the thought of
being my wife so terrible?”

Natasha felt bad that she was hurting
his feelings.

“That’s not it, Gianni. Just trust
me... You don’t want to be stuck with me,” she said, dropping her head into his
chest.

“Stuck?” He asked, confused by her
statement.

“Yes. Why should you be forced to
stay married to a woman that you married while drunk out of your mind?”

Gianni stepped back. He slid his
hands up and down Natasha’s arms.

“Natasha, I wasn’t that drunk. I
remember everything that happened,” he admitted.

Natasha stepped back. Gianni had
stunned her with his confession.

“If you weren’t drunk, then why did
you marry me?”

He simply shrugged and said, “Because
you asked.”

She screamed, “What?!”

“You said that I made you feel alive
and that you never wanted me to leave you. You dragged us in the closest
jewelry store and bought these rings,” Gianni said, holding up his left hand.

Natasha clutched her chest, walked
over to the sofa, and collapsed. She couldn’t believe her ears.

“You dropped to one knee and
proposed. I said yes. You can see for yourself, because you made the store
clerk record your proposal on your phone.”

Natasha began to hyperventilate as he
continued with the details. Gianni ran to sit next to her. He rubbed her back and
encouraged her to slow her breathing.

She wheezed, “Why would you say yes?”

“Because you said that being with me
made you happy. I want you to be happy.” His sincere answer only enhanced
Natasha’s guilt.

“Gianni, I’m so sorry. There’s something
you need to know.” She was not looking forward to coming clean.

Gianni turned her toward him, so that
they were facing each other.

“Tell me,” he urged.

“I... I can’t have children,” she
confessed.

A look of confusion furrowed Gianni’s
brow. He covered her hand with his. To Natasha’s surprise, he only smiled.

“Natasha, I know. You told me the
night we got married. I told you that we could adopt whenever you got ready.”

Natasha gaped at Gianni. What he was
saying to her was unbelievable. He was actually in total control of himself the
other night, and he had willingly married her. None of it made sense to
Natasha. Why would a man just willingly marry a woman that he’d only known for
a little over a month? And to top it off, he wanted to stay married. How would
they do that? Gianni lived in another country. Where would they live? Would he
expect her to quit her job? She didn’t know what was going to happen. They were
leaving in a few hours, which meant that they’d be returning to Chicago as Mr.
and Mrs. Gianni Storm.

The flight to Chicago was quiet.
Thankfully there was a new attendant, but Natasha didn’t quite know what to say
to Gianni. She had gone from the girl that didn’t have enough fun, take enough
risks, to the girl that got plastered in Vegas and married a man that she
really didn’t know. Every few minutes, Gianni would touch her hand or kiss her
forehead, in an attempt to make her feel better about her reckless behavior. It
wasn’t that she didn’t appreciate him being so sweet, she just didn’t
understand him. She didn’t understand why he wasn’t upset, wondering why he’d
actually said yes.

By the time they made it to the limo,
Natasha had come up with a plan. She needed time to sort things out between the
two of them. She wanted to respect his religion, but she knew that her drunken
marriage had no future.

“Gianni, do you mind if we keep this
to ourselves for awhile?”

“What’s a while? My mother would kill
me if she found out, from someone else that her only son was married.”

Natasha was horrified. Catarina
hadn’t even crossed her mind. She had advised Natasha not to give in too
easily. Well, she couldn’t have been any easier than dropping to one knee and
begging Gianni not to leave her. But, Natasha didn’t have time to dwell on her
failures, because the limo was stopping in front of her condo. She turned to
Gianni. But, again she didn’t know what to say. Luckily she didn’t have to
speak. Gianni gently caressed her face and gently kissed her lips. Natasha
smiled and climbed out of the limo. She walked up the walkway, but she quickly
turned, startled that Gianni was right behind her.

She stopped walking and shot him a
questioning glance.

He responded innocently, “What?”

“Are you coming up?”

Gianni huffed as if Natasha was
getting on his nerves. “Natasha, I do not intend on sleeping apart from you.
Not as long as you are my wife.”

Natasha’s face flushed with anxiety.
As it did, Gianni brushed her face. “Baby, please relax. We’ll be perfect if
you just relax.” His voice was soft and reassuring, and she was more relaxed.

They went into the building and
inside of her condo. The driver deposited her luggage into the living room and
disappeared out of the front door. But, he returned. This time he was toting
Gianni’s luggage. Natasha turned to Gianni, but before she could protest,
Gianni said, “You can always move into my place.”

Natasha shook her head. “I’m not
moving into that dungeon.”

“Dungeon?”

“Yes, dungeon. That penthouse of
yours is super gothic.”

“Okay. We’ll stay in your matchbox
until you finish redecorating the penthouse.”

He offered.

“Okay,” she answered hesitantly.

He reiterated to gain more hope,
“Okay?”

“Yes. Okay.”

“See, Bella? We have solved our first
marital issue,” he said with a boyish grin.

“Yes. It seems that we have.”

Natasha grabbed her overnight bag and
walked down the hall, into her bedroom. She walked into the attached bath and
dropped the bag on the vanity. She figured that since her condo wasn’t as
enormous as his penthouse, she didn’t need to show him around. She turned on
the shower and adjusted the temperature. She had

stripped out of her clothes and bent over to put them in a
pile. She looked up at the mirror, and Gianni appeared. He was standing behind
her, leaning against the door jam. His smirk was sexy, and his scent filled the
room.

“If I can get this view every night,
I’m going to love being married to you,” he said with a seductive slur.

Gianni had an alluring drawl that was
all his own, and Natasha’s body reacted every time he spoke. She was tempted to
climb his big body, but, instead, she stepped in the shower. As the hot water
trickled down her skin, she thought back to her first date with Gianni. She
wondered how a man that couldn’t even bear to spend the night with her be okay
with being married to her.

She lathered and tried to imagine
why, drunk or not, she’d ask Gianni to marry her. But, before she could come up
with an answer, her new husband stepped into the shower behind her. He kissed
the back of her head and asked, “Do you have to go to work tomorrow?”

Natasha nodded.

“Yeah, I’m working days tomorrow.
Gotta be there at six in the morning.”

Gianni became quiet, seemingly
contemplating his next question. His hands began to explore Natasha’s wet naked
body. But his touch was not necessarily sexual. He hands roamed her shoulders
and down her arm. He reached through and slid his hand over her flat stomach.
When he pulled her close to his hard body, Natasha head fell back against his
chest. He kissed the top of her head.

“Natasha, you don’t seem to spend any
of your money... Why?”

“My money derived from the blood of
my parents,” Natasha whispered.

Gianni enclosed her in his arms and
held her tight.

“What do you mean?”

“My parents were killed in a car
accident. The driver that hit them was drunk. He was the son of a billionaire
oil tycoon that was known to contribute heavily to the political campaigns of
every governor in Illinois for more than twenty years. Needless to say, the
accident was covered up, and I was paid off. And since I was a minor, it went
into a trust that I couldn’t touch until I was eighteen. But somehow, it still
feels like blood money.”

“But, you’ve donated tons to
charities. You’ve used the money to help people in need. Your parents would be
proud.”

Natasha sighed and turned in Gianni’s
arms. She stood on her toes and kissed his chin.

“I hope so,” she said in a whisper.

“I’m positive. We’ve been married for
the better part of two days, and trust me, there isn’t a man walking this earth
that’s more proud of his wife.”

Gianni’s words were like a bandage
for Natasha’s heart. She often wondered what her parents would think of the
woman that she’d become. She had dedicated her life to the service of others.
She joined the police department, not only to rid the streets of drugs, but to
help people in need. She wrapped her arms around Gianni’s waist and held on
tight. Tears fell from her eyes, but not from sadness. Somehow Gianni had given
her something that years of therapy hadn’t given her; confirmation that her
parents would be pleased with her.

Gianni walked her backward until she
was directly under the spray of the shower. Natasha released his waist and
pushed him back. She moved from under the shower head and wiped the water from
her face. Natasha smacked Gianni on the shoulder.

“Are you crazy?!” She yelped. “Don’t
you know that you are never put a black woman’s head under water?!”

Gianni raised his hands defensively.
Judging by the confused look on his face, it was evident to Natasha that he had
never been with a black woman before.

“You’ve never been with a black woman
before, have you?”

“Not in water,” he chuckled, lowering
his hands.

Natasha laughed and turned into the
water. When she was sure that she’d washed all of the soap from her skin, she
stepped out of the shower. After drying off, she wrapped herself in the towel
and tucked the end. She opened the linen closet and pulled out a towel for
Gianni. She left it on the vanity and walked into her bedroom. She sat on the
bed and performed her nightly routine of applying moisturizer and realized that
her routines were, most certainly, about to change. She went to her dresser and
fished out a pair of pajamas. She dressed for bed and walked over to the mirror
to assess the damage to her hair. Natasha decided against tying her hair down,
her natural curls would have to do.

Natasha could hear the water shut off
in the bathroom. A few seconds later, Gianni emerged with a towel wrapped
around his waist. His dark hair was slicked back, revealing more of his
handsomely rugged features. His green eyes sparkled from across the room.
Natasha couldn’t look away if her life depended on it. Her eyes roamed down his
solid chest, his chiseled abs, and followed the trail of dark hair that dipped
into a towel that barely contained the bulge between his legs. Natasha gasped
for air. The man was literally breathtaking.