Page 84 of The Red Queen

A longing for her husband hit her so hard it stole her breath and brought tears to her eyes. She missed Giovanni and wanted to see him more than anyone else in the world. She’d been stupid to assume he wouldn’t let her come here. Even if he had denied her request, she knew he’d eventually give her what she wanted. He loved her… and she left him. Despite Donada’s prediction, Desi doubted Giovanni could forgive her.

The tears began to spill, blinding her as she ran down the stone path back toward the street. She could feel an ambush closing in on her and prayed she could fight her way out. She didn’t want to lose her life. Not now, not when she had so much to live for. She didn’t want to risk the baby either. The baby she was finally beginning to accept.

“We’ll be fine,” she whispered, touching her fingers to her stomach.

She hurried past the car in the driveway, scanning the street as she went, picking up speed. She’d taken a bus to her hometown and come the rest of the way to her mother’s house on foot.

The sound of a door opening had her whirling around and pulling her gun from beneath her jacket. Fear momentarily clouded her vision, and she had to blink a few times to clear it. Fear never used to be a thing for her. She hadn’t cared if she lived or died, but Giovanni and the baby gave her something to live for.

“Desi.”

At the sound of Giovanni’s voice, the fear that had invaded her fled. She shoved her gun back into her jacket and ran back up the path toward him. He was standing in the open door of her mother’s house, a deep frown wrinkling his brow and turning the lines fanning from his eyes and mouth to granite.

She didn’t care that he was angry with her. She flung herself at him, wrapping her arms around his waist and burying her face in his chest. He hesitated, then dropped his arms around her, crushing her against him.

He swung her into the house, slamming the door shut and holding her tight against him, his hand cradling the back of her head.

“I’m so sorry,” she sobbed, soaking his shirt with her tears.

“No,bella, you have nothing to be sorry for,” he said, emotion deepening his voice. “I drove you away with my demands. You were right, I should have asked you what you wanted rather than forcing this baby on you.”

“I want the baby!” she cried, lifting her head to look up at him.

His face was so dear to her now, the Italian Godfather gone and in his place her beloved husband.

“I was stupid,” she said, desperation in her voice. “I felt suffocated by… by everything. I didn’t think I could have the baby. Didn’t think I could be a good enough wife and mother. I don’t know what I’m doing and this feeling… it’s… it’s…”

“It’s love, Desi,” he said in a low voice, his hand cradling the back of her neck protectively. “Love is the reason you ran to find your mother, and it’s the thing that would have brought you back to me. Eventually.”

She nodded empathically. “I wanted to go back home the moment that cruise ship left harbour.”

“I know,amore.”

She fought back tears as she looked at him. “I can’t deal with this feeling. It hurts too much.” She rubbed her hand over her chest. “It feels like my heart is going to burst. There’s so much more pain than I can bear. I’d rather lose another finger.”

His gaze was understanding. “It gets better. You have me, and my love is powerful enough to carry us through.”

“I’m scared,” she admitted.

He pulled her against his chest, holding her head to his heart. “I will never leave you to deal with it alone.”

She looked up at him, tears tangled in her lashes. “Thank you, Gio.”

Gradually, she realized that they were surrounded by his men. It warmed her heart that Giovanni was willing to shelve his pride and declare his love in front of his people. He cared about her enough to humble himself. She vowed never again to take advantage of his love.

He cupped her face in his hands and used his thumbs to wipe the tears from her cheeks.

She smiled at him and leaned in for a kiss, her trembling lips meeting his in greeting. Though their chemistry sizzled as their souls acknowledged their brief separation, the moment wasn’t sexual. It was deeper; it was the intertwining of their souls.

Desi looked up and saw a row of pictures on a table nearby. “My mom!” She pushed away from Giovanni. “Where is she?”

“She’s here,” he said reassuringly. “When I explained the situation, she insisted on staying to see you. Your stepfather and the rest of your family have been moved to a safe location and are being guarded.”

“But why do they need guarding?” she asked, confused. “I would never hurt any of them.”

“No,amore mio, not you, Garza’s boys.”

She frowned. “Garza’s boys? You mean Nico’s men? I had hoped they’d scatter after he was killed.”

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