Page 57 of Dario DeLuca

"Time to head back," I rasp, my voice stripped bare.

The journey to the house is agonizingly bittersweet torture. With each step, the tension stretches taut between us. Mia remains silent beside me, wrapped up in her turbulent thoughts.

By the time the mansion comes into view, every nerve in my body is on fire. I can feel Mia's warmth and smell the soft floral scent of her skin.

We reach the front steps, our strides slowing until we grind to a halt. Neither of us moves to go inside. Mia turns to face me, her expression unreadable in the dusky twilight.

This is where I should turn away and give her the space and privacy she needs to process everything. But I can't seem todisengage just yet, not when there's still that electrifying spark dancing in the depths of her eyes.

Realization is a gut punch—this all-consuming desire, this overwhelming need to claim her as mine, isn't just physical. It's bone-deep, forever etched into the darkest corners of my soul. Simply walking away isn't an option I'm willing to accept.

So, in one swift motion, I cup her face and devour her mouth with mine. Mia nestles against my chest, her hands resting at my sides. She fists my shirt as I slip my tongue in her mouth, trying to savor the taste of her.

Mia is my endgame now. Perhaps she always has been from that very first meeting. It just took the earth-shattering beneath our feet to finally make me see the truth.

“I want you,” she mutters against my mouth.

I groan, deepening the kiss before reluctantly breaking it. I stare down into her heated gaze and reach around her to open the front door.

Mia's lashes flutter, her lips parting on a shaky inhale. The night seems to splinter apart around us, the entire world narrowing down to this single searing point of contact.

"Soon," I murmur.

With a supreme will, I tear myself away and stalk off, back toward the gun range, to vent my frustrations, leaving Mia to ponder the unspoken promise hanging between us.

I don't look back, knowing that one glimpse of her beautiful face would completely shatter my resolve.

Tonight, she needs space to let everything sink in at her own pace. But soon, neither of us will be able to deny this insatiable thirst any longer. And when that dam breaks…God help anyone who dares stand in my way.

TWENTY-FOUR

MIA

Last night was barely spenton the opposite side of my room where the bed sits. Still dealing with the emotions surrounding everything that’s happened, I wanted to remain within these four walls all night.

Aside from being at the shooting range with Dario yesterday evening, this is all I’ve wanted to do. Sit right here, staring out the window. But seeing that I am a guest, I didn’t want to appear rude, so I joined the family at dinner and tried to remain festive.

But how could I?

Not knowing if my father will recover, and the guilt of not apologizing to him if he doesn’t was too great to bear. Dario must’ve felt my mood since he excused me from the rest of the evening, allowing me to rest in my room.

Today, I’ve decided not to mope around and bring down this momentous occasion. I leave the quiet solitude of my guest quarters and search out Carmela to see if there is anything I can assist with. However, with the house full of people running about, I don’t see much need for me.

I step into the courtyard, my heart thundering against my ribs when I take in the transformed space. The air is heavy with the scent of gardenias and night-blooming jasmine, theirfragrance mingling with citrus and spice wafting from the flickering candles.

The sun is setting, draping its golden veil over the elegant floral arrangements and rows of plush white chairs. My gaze travels up the trellis archway draped in vines and ivory blooms. It’s beautiful, but nothing is more breathtaking than the bride-to-be.

Carmela is a vision in a shimmering champagne slip dress with a matching robe that caresses every lush curve. Her raven tresses cascade in glossy waves, pinned back to showcase her face’s exquisite bone structure. Smokey eye makeup accentuates the molten gold flecks embedded in her hair accessories, and her lips are painted a deep wine shade. She exudes effortless sensuality.

Carmela spots me by the gift table and offers me a kind wave. I reciprocate the gesture, and a smile is returned. Carmela glides towards me, her presence a stark contrast to the soft chaos of the vendors setting up the reception area, the string quartet getting into place and warming up that surrounds us.

“There you are, Mia,” Carmela greets me with a thick Italian accent. “I was beginning to worry when my butler said you weren’t in your room.”

“Oh, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to worry you. I just wanted to see if I could be of any assistance. From the looks of it, you have covered all the details. The setting is beautiful, Carmela. And you look breathtaking.”

A brilliant smile blossoms across her features as she loops her arm through mine, practically vibrating with excitement.

"Thank you. I tell you, this day could not come soon enough. I feel as though I've been waiting an eternity." She chuckles.

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