Valentino stared after him for a long time before walking into the house.
Dario met him inside. “How did it go?”
“They say the riders will take care of it. I’ll give them a couple of days. They don’t want me to be the one to do it.” Val shoved a hand through his hair and looked toward the kitchen. Emmanuelle had taken to trying out various recipes, and the house always smelled good. Today was going to be no different in spite of her mother’s visit.
“I’ll do it if it comes to that. They’re right: it shouldn’t be you.”
“Or you. You’re family to her as well. And stop being so fucking stubborn. You’re taking over Miceli’s territory. You have no choice, and you know it. We don’t want anyone else in that position.”
“I’m not some leader. I stay in the background.”
“Stay in the background, but you’re still going to have to take over. It’s done. I already told the others, so don’t whine. You just have to stand around and look tough. That shouldn’t be too hard for you.”
The two made their way into the kitchen. Valentino hid a smile when Dario went straight to the sink and washed his hands before picking up a knife to begin chopping the mountain of vegetables waiting on the center island.
“I’m doing it, Valentino, but I’m still staying here. Not giving up the food.”
Emmanuelle tossed them both a quick grin from over her shoulder as she cut up chicken. “Seriously? Are you two still arguing about Dario taking on his new role? Dario just doesn’t want to wear the suit. You look totally badass in it, hon.”
Val came up behind her, pressing his body tight against hers, arms around her waist. She was armed with a knife, and he was always respectful when his woman was armed with any weapon. “Don’t give him compliments. He’s already full of himself.”
He couldn’t help himself: he bit down gently on that sweet spot between her neck and shoulder that always brought goose bumps. He loved that sound of her laughter. Evidently, her bodyguards, a staple in her kitchen, did as well. The four of them, Levi, Axel, Pace and Lando, had been put to work also, coring and slicing apples for the deep-dish cinnamon apple pies they all loved.
“You could hire a chef, Dario,” Val said. “He doesn’t want his own territory because he wants to live here. He doesn’t like missing out on your cooking.”
He was rewarded with Emmanuelle’s laugh. She put her head back on his shoulder for a moment. “It’s a good thing you never started eating at Taviano’s house, Dario. He’s a way better chef than I am. I watch the cooking channels to improve. Poor Val has to pretend he likes some of the stuff I make for him.” She turned her head and pressed kisses into his jaw.
Just getting that from her made the cold, dark place inside him that was an abyss of hell, marking him a monster, burn with a hunger to find even bigger monsters and take them into that fiery pit with him, just to protect her.
At once she lifted her head, half turning to look into his eyes. “Valentino? Are you all right?” Her voice was whisper soft. Her eyes drifted over his face. Saw too much. She always knew when he was disturbed. “Honey, I told you not to let Eloisa come here. Whatever she said to you, let it go. I love you. You’re my choice. We’ll have children together, and the hell with whatever weird problem she’s decided she has with us. It isn’t her business, it’s ours.”
Naturally, Emmanuelle would believe Eloisa had upset him, and she would try to reassure him. That was so like his woman. He didn’t know how he’d gotten so damn lucky, but he vowed to himself he was never going to fuck it up.
“I’m good, Princess.”
Valentino made sure his woman was absolutely good with three orgasms before he drove her up again, listening to her gasping pleas. Her little denials that she couldn’t possibly when she was able, and would, because he could feel her body coiling tighter and tighter around his, already practically strangling his cock. Being in Emmanuelle felt better than anything he could imagine, and he wanted to stay there as long as he possibly could.
Deliberately, he slowed his pace, wanting to give his woman as much pleasure as possible before he allowed himself his own release. He didn’t want the time to be over. There were times, like now, when he looked into her eyes and felt like they were touching each other’s souls. It shook him every fucking time. He never wanted those moments to end. It wasn’t just about the physical, the insatiable lust he felt for her, but the lust infused so deeply with so much love it was a part of every cell in his body.