The briefest of smiles flirted with Dario’s hard mouth. Elie couldn’t help but laugh. Emme had a way about her. It was impossible not to love her.
He glanced over to the table where her bodyguards covered their grins behind their hands, pretending they couldn’t hear the conversation. Levi and Axel, ex-military, ex-mercenary, trained by Dario and always assigned to be Emme’s personal protectors. Elie knew them to be serious, astute and very intelligent men. Dario trusted few men, and if he trusted these with Emmanuelle’s protection, they had to be good men. More, the Ferraro family had investigated them thoroughly, not for criminal activity, but for their ability to protect Emme. No one found them wanting. It was easy to see they not only were good at what they did, but had developed a real affection for Emmanuelle.
Elie rubbed the ring on his finger. It had been made by one of the Ferraros’ many cousins, Damian Ferraro, a gifted jeweler who knew the exact ring needed before his customer did. In this case, his ring had to be able to travel with him into the shadows. Elie had been surprised to find his bride’s engagement ring had been fashioned from gems incapable of traveling into the shadows. He’d even questioned Damian as her papers declared her a rider. That would mean she would have to remove her ring before entering the shadows. Her actual wedding ring could be left on. Elie supposed it didn’t matter if she removed her engagement ring. He just found it odd that Damian had given his woman a more traditional gemstone, a blazing flawless emerald surrounded by several diamonds.
“You only say that because you know your friends won’t be able to resist me,” Dario said, reaching for his wineglass.
“What’s to resist? You never talk to anyone. You don’t look up from your phone. And you’re bossy beyond belief. I’m not even going to talk about your rather scary and unbelievable sexual preferences.”
Elie had taken a drink of water and immediately choked on it.
“You don’t know the first thing about my sexual preferences.” There was no change in Dario’s expression, on his face or in his voice.
“You don’t know that,” Emme challenged.
Those dark eyes that at times reminded Elie of twin pits of hell moved over Emmanuelle’s face. “Babe. Be serious.”
Emme leaned across the table and lowered her voice to a mere thread of sound. “You wouldn’t know if I was around in one of your kink clubs.”
“Don’t bet on it, Emme. I have a sixth sense when it comes to you. And you would never invade my privacy.”
Dario had her there. Elie knew, just as well as Dario did, that Emmanuelle might tease both men, but she would never use her ability to spy on them.
She did accompany her husband when he conducted business meetings in the strip or sex clubs. She was always in the shadows, unseen by his associates, or the many women who worked the clubs and did their best to entice their boss into lap dances or blow jobs. Elie knew it was particularly painful for Emmanuelle in the beginning to see the women fawning all over her husband, especially if Emme had helped them earlier and they’d pretended to be her friends. It also made it difficult to fully have faith that if Val didn’t know she was right there watching his every move, he wouldn’t take advantage of the many offers thrown at him. She’d confided in Elie that it worried her if she became pregnant and couldn’t ride the shadows or accommodate Valentino’s rather demanding sex drive, what he might do.
Elie thought a lot about her concerns. His wife would no doubt have similar concerns given the fact that she would know he didn’t love her. He had an extremely strong sex drive. Not only that, but he would be inclined to take his wife to a club if he could guarantee privacy and no cameras. He trusted Dario to give that to him so the chances were good that it would happen. She might have those same insecurities. He would have to find a way to make sure his wife didn’t feel uncertain of him.
Elie had advised Emmanuelle to talk to Val, to be open with him and he hoped she’d done so. He wanted to establish from the very beginning with his bride that they would be talking over every possible concern she had. He would expect her to communicate those with him, and if she didn’t, the longer she waited, the more the consequences. He hoped she had read every single one of his answers to the questions posed by the computer to make their match. He’d been honest. Very honest, just as he expected her to be. He’d read her answers so many times, he practically had them memorized. If she’d read his, there would be no surprises. She would know what kind of man she was getting.
“Fine, Dario,” Emme said. “But you spend far too much time at that silly club of yours.”
“That’s not possible when I’m always at your house eating,” Dario countered, back to looking at his phone.
There was a mild disturbance, hushed whispers moving through the pizzeria. Elie knew without looking that Valentino had made his entrance. He was an impressive figure, tall, with wide shoulders, thick, glossy dark hair and intense green eyes. He came straight to the booth, making it difficult for his bodyguards to keep up with him, although they managed. Both men, Lando Regio and Pace Detti, were experienced, trained by Dario and given the job when Val had insisted Dario take over the territory Val’s uncle’s death had left open.
Val came up behind his wife and bent over Emmanuelle to tip back her head and take her mouth, kissing her intimately right there in the pizzeria. Emmanuelle laughed softly when he lifted his head. “You’ll get us kicked out. I heard Benito has some kind of rule, no PDA or we’re thrown out. Taviano told me.” Taviano was her brother.
Valentino nudged her over with his hip and sank down onto the seat, up close, thigh to thigh. “Did Taviano and Nicoletta get kicked out? If they didn’t, we’ll have to see if we can make that happen.” Deliberately, he leaned into her and bit down on her neck.
She squealed and pushed rather half-heartedly at him. “You can’t get us kicked out until after I eat more pizza. Elie ate nearly all the olives.”
Val laughed. “I doubt that. You would have put a fork through his hand.”
Even Dario smirked at that while Emme tried to look indignant. Elie nudged her foot under the table.
“What have you three been up to while I’ve been working?” Val asked. “I see you didn’t leave anything for me. Not even wine.”
“Ordered you fresh, babe,” Emmanuelle said.
“Talked about your wife hanging out in the sex clubs,” Dario said. “Told Elie she knew far too much about them.”
“Stop saying that,” Emme protested, wadding up her napkin and throwing it at Dario.
“Well, you do.”
“I guard my husband, you cretin. Someone has to. You’re too busy looking at your phone. And you aren’t fooling anyone, Dario. You’re playing games on it. No one has that many emails.”
Dario lifted an eyebrow as he crumpled the napkin he’d caught in his hand. “I’m answering letters from women, turning them down as gently as possible, nosy woman.”