Out of the Dark (23 page)

He wraps us up in the sheets and cradles me against his shoulder. Submerged in a deep euphoria, he holds me, kissing the top of my head. He holds me as if he’s afraid I’ll leave, and I hold on to him with the same force.

I turn his face toward me with my hand. My heart is about to burst.

I may not be able to tell him I love him, but I have to tell him something
.

“I want you to know how much I wanted that to happen. I’ve wanted to make love to you since the night we first kissed—before that. Those things you said to me? I want you to know that I—”

The phone interrupts me.

Enzo clambers for it. “Hello?” His voice is still heavy with lust. He clears his throat and sits up. “No, she’s fine. She’s here with me. I’m sure her father just took the phone off the hook. They’ve had a rough day. Yes, she needed some air, so we came here and had dinner. Sure, hold on.”

He doesn’t have to tell me who it is. I take the phone, the cord running over my bare legs and between my naked breasts. “Hello?”

“Hey, darling. How are you holding up?”

“I’m fine.”

“It’s good to hear your voice. Is Enzo taking good care of you?”

“Yes, he is.”

“All right. Well, I won’t keep you. I just want you to know how sorry I am that I couldn’t be there by your side. I promise I’ll make it up to you, Carina. I hope you can forgive me. When you get back to your father’s, be sure to check the phone. All I got was a busy signal when I tried calling.”

“Okay. I will.”

“I love you, Carina.”

I can’t
not
say it, even if it is a lie. Even if the man that I do feel it for is naked beside me. Even though we’ve just made love.

“I love you, too,” I utter with reluctance and give the phone back to Enzo to hang up.

I feel disgusting. Guilt floods through me like a tidal wave, overwhelming me.

Enzo isn’t looking at me. His eyes are fixed on the ceiling. I watch as he clenches his jaw.

“I’m going to take a shower.”

He just nods.

I stand beneath the spray of warm water and burst into tears. I’m so ashamed. I lather up the soap between my hands as I wash my body. When I’m done, I do it again. And again. But no water, no soap can rid me of this sin.

Nothing can cleanse me of what I’ve done.

Chapter Fifteen

I drag my fingers through my damp hair and wrap myself in one of the hotel’s robes. I leave the mirror covered with its coating of mist. I don’t want to look at my reflection anyway.

How can I make this better? How can this get any worse? I should go.

“Cari?”

Simply hearing his voice, my whole being wants to be with him. What I so desire is impossible and forbidden and causes my heart to ache.

I rest my forehead against the door knowing he’s on the other side, but I don’t open it. “Yes?”

“Can I come in?” His voice is deep, but it sounds so small through this barrier.

I close my eyes and press the palm of my hand against the door.

He wants to come in. I want him to come in. I love him and I can’t tell him
.
What am I going to do?

“Yes.” I step back and watch the knob spin.

He opens the door and peeks in. He takes in the sight of me standing in my robe then opens the door all the way.

His only clothing is his boxer briefs, and I can’t help but admire his beautiful body.

“I know you’re probably regretting what just happened, but I want you to know . . . I’m not.”

I don’t feel regret, but I do feel guilt. “Enzo—”

“Wait. Just let me say this, Cari. We’re leaving tomorrow. I don’t want to think about what’s going to happen when we get back to New York. I don’t want to think about consequences. We may never have time together like this again, and I just . . .” He drags his hand through his hair and then drops it to his side, keeping his gaze fixed on mine. “I want you to get back into bed with me. I want you to stay the night.”

My body reacts without permission. I feel elated and horrible. I can’t speak.

“I mean, if you want me to take you back to your father’s, of course I will.”

As he fumbles, backtracking, I walk to him and cover his mouth with mine. My robe falls open, and I press my body to his.

He responds and lifts me to the edge of the sink as our kiss continues.

I bury my hands in his hair.

He brushes his fingers against my bare ribs, and I get chills that cause my nipples to harden. I shiver. It’s alarming how desperate we are for each other now that we know what it feels like to be this close.

I reach my hand down to where he’s warmest and slip my hand inside his underwear, sliding my palm along his hard cock. “I don’t want to go anywhere. I want to stay here with you.”

I love you
is what I want to say, but I don’t. I can’t.

He kisses my neck as I stroke him. His lips are so warm and soft.

“I know this is wrong, but I don’t want this to be the last time I touch you. I don’t think I could bear it,” he says.

I slide closer and press myself against his hard tip.

He pushes inside me but doesn’t move. He just lingers and presses his lips to mine in an eager kiss. He removes my robe and slides his hands over my damp hair and down to the small of my back. He remains still, savoring this beautiful, hot, erotic fire between us. It’s a perfect moment.

I don’t want this to be the end either, but the sad truth that it might be begins to drive me to the brink of madness.

This could be the last time we make love
.

I rock my hips into him, enticing him, and he responds. He moves, and I hear his breath quicken. I grip his shoulders and kiss him with unbridled fervor. It’s shocking how easy this is. The way we fit together is flawless.

“I wish you had waited.”

“What?” I hold on tighter when he rocks his hips as he speaks.

“I wish you had waited until I found you.” He thrusts inside me as if he’s trying to claim me, to erase the touch of any other man, and I let him.

I let him try to wash away the promises I’ve made to another. I let him consume me. I want to be consumed. The unspeakable words tickle my lips again, but I swallow them down once more.

“We have this, right now. I’m yours right now.” It’s all I can offer and I want it to be enough, but I know it’s not.

He sets me down and turns me around.

The steam has lifted from the bathroom mirror, and I can see him behind me.

He gathers my hair in his fist, and his passion rises like fire in his eyes. He enters me again, and my body presses against the sink again and again as he makes me his. His eyes close as the sweat drips from our bodies, and his hands slide over my breasts. He kisses my shoulder and reaches around to touch me between my legs.

I focus on the feel of his fingers sliding over me, teasing me. I bloom and rise, falling for him, and cry out in ecstasy, dizzy from the pleasure.

He sighs my name, groaning as he comes, and before I’ve come down from my glorious high, I want him again.

We are wretched. We are liars. We are evil
.

We are the same, and it is perfect.

After a moment’s rest, he scoops me up and carries me to bed. He embraces me, and it’s as if we’re clinging to that last warm day before winter begins, the last rays of sun before night falls, the last embers of a fire before it dies.
 

We make love several times throughout that long and magnificent night, every touch intensifying our need for each other.
 

We wake to the harsh light of day, and when we arrive back at my father’s, we find him still dazed from yesterday and unfazed by the fact that I didn’t sleep at home last night. We spend the day with him.

I offer to extend my stay, but my father won’t hear of it and encourages me to return to my fiancé and my wedding planning instead.

“Focus on happy things, Carina. Your mother would have wanted that.”

I concede. I want to stay and take care of him, but I know he’ll be all right. It will be a difficult battle, but my father will fight his way through this grief surrounded by the loving comfort of many old friends.

Seated beside Enzo on the plane, I try to deflect the heavy attraction between us and remember what it was like before we made love. The connection I feel for him has intensified. I don’t simply care for him, I
love
him. I don’t merely want him with my body, I feel him in my heart.

I think about Stefan and the conversation I overheard before the news of my mother’s passing, the one concerning Enzo’s desire to go in Stefan’s place to the meeting with Alfonso. I’m glad he didn’t. I think about his protests and his attempts at convincing Stefan to let him go.

“Enzo?”

He looks up at me from the day-old newspaper. “Yes?”

I lower my voice to a whisper and move my mouth close to his shoulder. “Why did you want to go to New York?”

He runs his hand over his stubble-covered chin. “You heard that, did you? You weren’t supposed to. I guess now you know our secret. You’re not in the dark anymore.” He bounces his knee. “I wanted to go so Stefan wouldn’t have to.”

“Yes, but why? Why would you want that life for yourself? Why would you want to become a part of . . .
the Mafia
?” I whisper so quietly I’m barely doing more than mouthing the last two words.

He looks right at me, deep into my eyes. “Because I don’t want you to end up a widow.”

My chest cracks like brittle.

“If I meet an unfavorable fate, I leave no one behind. Stefan has you. If I take over for him, he could devote himself to you as I know he wants to. You would both be happy. Safe.”

His words are sweet and horrifying, selfless and infuriating.

He is
so
good. So good and so wrong
.

“How can you say you would leave no one behind? You know that’s not true. You would leave Nonna and Lucy . . . and me.”

“You’d all be fine without me.” He says it as if he believes it.

I shouldn’t touch him, but I can’t help it. He inhales when I place my hand on his leg and turn toward him. “Don’t talk like that. I would
not
be fine without you. The idea of you in danger, of getting hurt . . .” I struggle to express what I feel.

His face is stern and serious. “Then you better hope my uncle never finds out what we’ve done.”

My mind flashes to Fabrizio and Bianca—Bianca telling me that infidelity is unforgivable, criminal—and how crushed she was by the loss of the man she truly loved.

I’m seated beside the one
I
love, heading home to a man who could take him away. I realize the brutal truth.

We must keep this affair a secret or someone could lose their life
.

“What are we going to do?”

“I don’t know, but it’s best if we try to avoid each other. Until we figure it out.” It hurts me to say the words.

His shoulders slump. “I was afraid you’d say that, but you’re right.”

He looks defeated. So am I.

He removes my hand from where it was resting on his leg, and I retract it into my lap.

He goes back to flipping through his paper, and I close my eyes, trying to think about something other than the fact that my arms sting with the emptiness of not holding him.

When we pull up the drive at Ravine Creek, we’re well practiced in the art of not touching each other. The glorious and vivid beauty of our time together has faded.

As if it was a dream
.

The paleness of our real lives returns to us.

Bland and numb
.

We’ve barely spoken since the flight. Enzo seems distant and cold, and I know he’s forcing himself to be that way.

We enter the house, expecting to be greeted by hugs and kisses from the entire family, but the house is still and feels empty.

We find Stefan alone in the dining room. Candles burn on the table, and a meal is set for two. Otis Redding plays on the stereo.

Stefan rushes toward me and embraces me. “Darling, I’m so glad you’re home.” He cradles me beneath his arm and speaks to Enzo. “Thank you for everything. Gemma arranged for Carina and me to have a dinner alone tonight. They’re waiting for you in Nora and Frank’s half of the house. I hope that’s all right.”

Enzo appears to be frozen steel . . . a robot. “Yes, of course. Just let me put the bags upstairs.”

“Take all the time you need. Tonight, I’m going to wine and dine my fiancée.” Stefan takes my right hand in his and pulls me toward him, leading me in a slow dance around the candlelit dining room.

Every particle in my body wants to pull away, and my skin is crawling. “Stefan, you didn’t have to do this.”

“Yes. Yes, I did. I promised I’d make my absence up to you. I know this is a feeble attempt, but—”

I put on my mask and play the grateful girlfriend. “No, it’s very nice, Stefan. Thank you.”