Emme’s teeth tugged at her bottom lip, her blue eyes steady on his. She nodded slowly. “Yes. No matter what he says, Val, I’ll go with you to Vegas.”
“Then contact him and let’s get ready.” He hesitated. “I have a ring, baby, one I commissioned some time ago from Damian Ferraro, one of your million cousins. He talked to me at great length. I have to say, the man is very unnerving. He looks right through you. He told me he didn’t understand how I could end up with a woman like you. I didn’t tell him who you were, but he seemed to know. When the rings came, they weren’t anything like I asked for. He told me to trust him. That only these rings would do for you. If you didn’t like them, he would make the rings I asked for free of charge.”
Emmanuelle’s breath caught in her lungs. “Damian is a genius when it comes to making jewelry. Only certain elements can safely go into the shadows. He would make rings that would go into the shadows with me.”
“How would he know you can go into the shadows if I never said who my fiancée was?” Val asked. Her family was plain freaky.
“That’s his gift, besides making the most beautiful custom jewelry.”
Valentino could tell she wanted to see the rings. That made him relax a little more. He hadn’t been happy when Damian had given him rings that hadn’t looked anything like he’d ordered. He wanted Emmanuelle to have the very best, to look down at her hand and know she belonged to him and he loved her. The excitement on her face told him maybe her cousin knew more than he did after all.
He tipped her chin up and took her mouth. Gently. Tenderly. No matter if he started out that way, and he tried to, their kisses always turned into something else. Hot. Wild. Burning out of control. He poured love into her. Saying it with everything he was, wanting to reassure her after the insecurities she’d revealed to him. That had taken courage on her part and he’d always take the greatest care to remember how her mother had torn her down. He vowed only to build her up, to support her.
Valentino lifted her off his lap before it was too late. They were never going to get to Vegas if he didn’t stop. “See if we can use your family’s plane. If not, I’ll call for mine. We both need to get dressed and I’ll let Dario know we’re going. If your brother is coming with us, we need to arrange protection for my father.”
“Stefano will do that and let you know immediately,” Emme assured him. She slipped off the bed, her phone in her hand. “I’ll text Franco first. If he’s a go, I’ll text Stefano while I’m dressing.”
There was determination in her voice and she was already texting the pilot, he could see her thumb flashing over the keyboard. He moved more leisurely, although it wasn’t because he just wanted to stare his fill at Emmanuelle. There was that, of course; he could look at her all day and it would never be enough. Watching her move across the room, he could see the sensual woman and the predator. It was sexy as all get-out. He moved slowly because his body protested every small movement he made.
The sex had been often and rough. Sex between them usually was. It had been a long time, and they’d both needed it for a variety of reasons, but his body let him know he wasn’t quite as ready for that kind of out-of-control workout as he would’ve liked. His muscles protested every movement, making him feel like an old man.
He texted Dario that they would be heading to Vegas. He wanted two men they trusted on Giuseppi along with Stefano’s guards. Giuseppi was still in the suite at the Ferraro Hotel, in the lap of luxury, and would most likely be visited by the Ferraro women and their men and treated as an honored guest. His father would eat that shit up. Stefano had assigned two very grim-faced and clearly competent guards to him, Drago and Demetrio Palagonia. His father would be safe, high up in a very secure hotel with the Ferraro guards as well as his own.
Suppressing a groan, he set his feet on the floor and forced his muscles to stretch out. The leg wound was the worst. He made himself stretch more, until he knew he could move quickly if necessary. Liquid glue or whatever the surgeon had said he used wasn’t staying with all the running around Val had done. The wound continued to leak. He’d changed the bandage multiple times. He most likely shouldn’t have gotten it wet. Dario had changed it as well, and now Emme.