Page 52 of Stolen Mafia Vows
“This is my time now, Pa. You have to trust me on this, but I’ll find a way without starting a war.”
Because now that I’ve found Emily, I’m not going to lose her.
I know that something is wrong, the instant Emily walks through the front door. I don’t even have time to marvel at how in tune I am with her before she buries her head against my chest and her tears soak through my shirt.
I fold my arms around her and wait for the sobs to subside. I can guess what happened: she told them that we’re married, and they got into a fight. Don’t they realize that coming down hard on her will only push her away? It works in my favor, but I refuse to use Emily as a pawn in whatever is going on here.
If she ever found out…
I wrap her hair around my hand and hug her more tightly. I can’t bear the thought of her looking at me with the same disillusionment I’ve always seen in my father’s eyes. I’m never going to let that happen.
“I’m here, Emily,” I murmur into her hair. “I’m always going to be here.”
We’re still standing in the foyer when the door to my father’s study opens, and he steps out; thankfully, without the revolver.
Emily’s spine stiffens and she wriggles out of my embrace. “Mr. Byrne. I didn’t know that you were back.”
It seems to take an enormous amount of effort for him to drag his eyes to her face, but when he does, I’m surprised by the warmth that has returned to his eyes.
Three steps, and Emily’s hand is in his, and he’s eying up Gran’s wedding ring. “It seems congratulations are in order.”
“Thank you.” Emily’s tone is hesitant. “I’m so sorry to hear about Ruairi.”
“Aye.”
I wonder what he’s going to do or say next. I thought I knew my father, but with my brother’s death, the dynamics have changed, and this person standing in front of me holding onto my wife’s hand isn’t someone I recognize. Or maybe it’s my perspective that has altered, distorting him into someone with the power to bring my life crashing down around me. If I let him.
He spins the ring around Emily’s finger. “Welcome to thefamily, Emily.”
Then he lowers her hand by her side and walks through to the kitchen, where I hear Gran fussing over him, doing what she always does, being the glue that holds the family together with food and refreshments, a warm smile, and stability. The constant in this life of death and danger.
I take Emily’s hand and pull her in the opposite direction towards the front door.
“Where are we going?” Her eyelashes are damp, but I can see in her small smile that whatever passed between her and her brother at the hospital is already dissolving now that she is back.
“To the stables.”
I don’t speak until we get there. I help her into Bodhi’s saddle, and then, throwing a blanket across Nutmeg, we take a slow and steady trot across our family estate until we reach the edge of the woods.
“Alright?” I ask before we enter. There’s more color in her cheeks, and she subconsciously strokes Bodhi’s mane.
“Is this someplace else you come when you want to be alone?” She peers into the woods as if she might spot a childhood treehouse or den buried amongst the trees.
“It’s someplace else that no one knows about.”
She runs her tongue over her top lip suggestively. “Are you trying to get me alone so that you can do wicked things to me?”
“Wicked things, eh? I like the sound of that.” I move Nutmeg closer and kiss Emily, filling her mouth with my tongue until she is breathless. “You might have to enlighten me when we get there.”
The horses know where to go, picking their way carefully through the woods until we emerge into a small glade filled with daisies, buttercups, and dandelion wisps. Leaving the cool, dappled shade of the trees, the sun appears even brighter, as if concentrating its rays on this small patch of land solely for our enjoyment.
A stream runs along the right-hand side of the glade, the faint gurgles of water rippling across pebbles reaching us as we dismount.
“It’s beautiful.” Emily’s gaze roams around the glade as if frightened she might miss something.
“It’s even more beautiful seeing it through your eyes.”
We secure the horses to a tree so that they can drink from the stream in the shade of the woods. Then, I take Emily’s hand to the middle of the glade, roll out the blanket across the vibrant grass, and sit down. I pat the spot beside me, and Emily sits down, knees bent, hugging them to her chest.
