Page 33 of Stolen Mafia Vows
She’s an intelligent young woman who knows what she wants. I have to believe that the onus is on them for protecting her from reality rather than on her for being naïve. My gut doesn’t want to think about option two because I’m not sure where that leaves me.
I’m not some sexual fucking predator who preys on innocent virgins. The thought makes my gut twist. But then again, pretty much my first words to her were:I want to touch you in places you’ve never been touched before. She had the chance to run, and she didn’t. She came to me willingly; she wanted me as much as I wanted her.
Wanther.
Because knowing who she is changes nothing. I’m still crazy about the woman, and I can’t wait to show her, in every way possible.
Although my father’s intentions are selfish, he is right. It is probably for the best if Emily doesn’t find out about our family rivalry until an alliance has been agreed upon. She likes me for who I am. I could see it in her eyes when she approached me at the airport.
Sheapproachedme.
Our names are irrelevant. Our family histories are inconsequential.
I know that I would protect her with my life, I believe that she feels the same way about me, and that’s all that matters.
So, I don’t hang around in Liverpool any longer than is necessary.
Back in Ireland, I drive directly to the little cottage on the beach that Emily is currently sharing with her sister-in-law Sienna. I barely have time to stop the car and raise the handbrake before Emily comes running out and leaps at me, wrapping her legs around my waist, and her arms around my neck.
Finally, I have the chance to do what I’ve wanted to do since she told me that we had her parents’ blessing. I swing her around and kiss her, our lips colliding in a jumble of whimpers and unintelligible greetings.
“When did you get back?” Emily pulls away long enough to ask.
I peer down into her emerald eyes, and I know that I don’t want to be anywhere that she isn’t. I would follow her around the world, if that’s what it would take to convince her.
I make a show of checking my wristwatch. “Oh, about forty-five minutes ago.”
She giggles, and it’s the most beautiful sound I’ve ever heard.
Someone clears their throat behind us, and I glance along the garden path lined by thigh-high wildflowers to find Sienna standing in the open doorway watching us. She’s smiling. It’s a good sign. It means that our families haven’t declared war on each other. Yet.
Emily takes my hand and guides me along the path towards the cottage. “Sienna, this is Eoghan.”
Sienna doesn’t shake my hand. Instead, she pulls me into a hug, her pregnancy getting in the way, our cheeks barely brushing before she releases me and rubs her side as if trying to soothe the baby in her belly.
“I’m glad you’re back,” she says. “Emily hasn’t stopped talking about you.”
“Not true.” Emily rolls out her bottom lip. “I stopped at mealtimes.”
Sienna tips her head back and laughs. “Barely. What have you done to her? I’m eating for two, and I can barely keep up with Emily’s appetite.” Her eyes widen suddenly. “On second thoughts, don’t answer that.”
I feel a pang deep inside my chest at the easy conversation and the laughter. It reminds me of when my mom was still alive; our house was always filled with light and sunshine and joy, even on rainy days. Now, our house only seems to come alive at Christmas time when our extended family moves in, and everyone is singing along to ‘Last Christmas’ and ‘Fairy Tale of New York’.
“Don’t stand out here.” Sienna opens the door wide and steps back inside the foyer. “Coffee?”
“No, we’re not staying here.” Emily answers for both of us, clinging tightly to my hand in case I disagree.
“Okay, I get it. You don’t want me getting in the way.” Sienna winks at me. “Bring her back when you’ve had enough of her.”
“Are you sure that’s okay?” I realize how it sounds, a beat toolate. “I mean, are you sure you don’t mind me stealing her away from you?”
“Steal away. She’ll only drive me mad if you don’t.” She shoos us away from the door with both hands like we’re stray dogs begging for more scraps.
I like Sienna.
“Thanks, Si.” Emily blows her a kiss as we head back to my car. “Call me if you need me.”
When Emily is in the passenger seat of the car, watching me wide-eyed, lips moist and parted, I lean across, grip her chin between my thumb and forefinger, and kiss her long and slow. “I’ve been aching to do this.”
