Page 27 of His Brother's Wife
Ama slumped against him. “Some good news, at last.” She felt like crying, but this time for good reasons. Could this be the tide turning?
“Have they found anything out about Selima’s whereabouts?”
Enda hesitated, then shook his head. “I’m sorry, baby. Chase is still unconscious, and the California team has had no luck. Look, we have the house to ourselves tonight. Just for one-night …let’s try and relax and spend some time together. I know it will be difficult, but I’m worried that if we—and I mean you,Piccolo—keep this level of stress up, we’ll make bad decisions. Forget why we did this.”
Ama was silent, considering his proposal. Could she relax, knowing what was happening to her sister? Even if it wasn’t happening—and she didn’t think there was any chance of that—she still had the visions of what Jackson could do to her sister.
But she looked up into the eyes of the man she had sacrificed everything for and knew she would make the same decision over and over again. Enda was right. They needed to reconnect properly, remember that they were in this together, and that there were more people on their side than on Jackson’s.
She nodded up at him. “Yes, okay …for tonight …me and you.”
“Good.” He kissed her forehead. “Let’s start by getting some proper food into you. You haven’t eaten for days.”
They cooked a meal together, a hot and spicy curry that they washed down with a cold beer each, then sat watching TV. Ama couldn’t help her mind drifting to her sister, and at ten p.m., Enda looked around at her, studied her expression, and sighed. “Miss Rai …I think I need to distract you more …” He stood up and pulled her to her feet. He nuzzled his nose to hers before pressing his lips against hers. “The house is empty except for us. We’re totally alone …listen how quiet the night is.”
He led her to the window and pushed open the shutters. The stone window sill was wide enough for them both to sit on. “Look at that,” Enda said softly. The moon was full over the Bay of Naples, Vesuvius casting a long shadow. The cities of Naples and Sorrento lay beneath them. The lights of the fishing boats bobbed out at sea, the soft glow from the cities’ streets. “There is only one thing I consider more beautiful than this view,” Enda said in his low, growly accent, “And that is you,Piccolo. You are the love of my life and the reason for my being. There is absolutely no way I would give you up for anything. I know what you think—that you hold Selima’s life in your hands. You don’t. But you hold mine, and I hold yours. There is no you and me. There is only us. And we, together, will fight this and we will win.”
Ama had tears in her eyes and they spilled down her cheeks as he finished speaking. She couldn’t speak. Couldn’t tell this wonderful man just how much she loved him. Instead, she kissed him, her mouth hungry against his. He pulled her onto his lap and began to peel her dress from her shoulders until he could dip his head and take her nipple into his mouth. Ama sighed and closed her eyes, not caring if any of the security guards patrolling their grounds could see them.This is what matters, she thought.Love. Enda picked her up and carried her to the couch, pushing up her skirt and snagging his fingers in her panties to pull them off. Ama pulled her dress over her head and then helped him strip, running her hands over his broad shoulders, wide, muscled chest, and flat stomach. He covered her body with his, seeking her lips.
“Ama …” he murmured, in the way that always made her weak, and as she curled her legs around his hips, feeling his erection nudging at her, she opened up to take him in as deep as she could, wanting and needing that connection.
Enda moved in slow, measured strokes, kissing her, murmuring her name over and over, and sending thrills through her entire being. Ama gazed up into his green eyes and wondered how she had ever existed without this man. She could believe him, in moments like this, that everything would be okay—that everything would turn out right.
He was so controlled that her orgasm built and built, and every time she thought she would reach her peak, Enda would hold back, until she was quivering mass of anticipation. When her orgasm hit, it made her mind whirl, her skin vibrate, and all she could see was him, smiling down at her, groaning as he too came, his seed shooting deep into her belly.
“I love you. I love you,” she whispered, and he laughed softly.
“And I’m not even halfway done tonight …”
They made love until dawn began to spread its fingers across the sky, then fell asleep, wrapped in each other’s arms. When they woke, Ama felt stronger than she had in days. Then, in the evening, the news came that Inca was awake.
Inca awoke sometime in the afternoon, and of course, it was in the five minutes that Raff, who had been at her side constantly, went to take a coffee break. Alone, Inca blinked, trying to get the smeary glaze from her eyes, moving her limbs, feeling the stiffness of her body, and the numbness that she recognized as morphine coursing through her system. It was a heavy dose too, she knew of old—from thelasttime she’d been stabbed. How the hell had it happened again? Here, in her beloved Naples, where all she had found was love. Had it been part of a robbery? Somehow, she couldn’t see it. It was personal. She remembered the man who had stabbed her so viciously …he had looked her in the eye as he plunged the knife into her. The expression she would never forget …enjoyment. He meant to killher. Inca was sure of it. She wasn’t a random victim.
Could it have been Edgar Winter, her husband’s psychotic father who had tried to kill her twice before, just to make Raffaelo suffer? He was rotting away in prison now for his crimes, but he could have just as easily hired someone to do it. After all this time, though? It had been years that he had been incarcerated.
Inca moved, and then moaned in pain. Agony screeched through her body, but instead of upsetting her, it just made her angry. Who the hell were these people to decide whether she lives or died? Luna, Kevin, Knox, Edgar …two of them were dead; Kevin was, like Edgar, in jail. And now those two assholes in her beloved tea house …
The anger made adrenaline shoot through her body, and she struggled to sit up, ignoring the agonizing pain in her abdomen and gripping the breathing tube to rip it out.
Only the appearance of Bo stopped her from doing it. “Hey, hey, hey, hey …no, no, no,baby. Don’t do that.” Bo dropped the coffee she was holding and dashed to Inca’s side, holding her up with one strong arm and gently pushing her hands away from the tube. “Nurse! Somebody help me!”
Two nurses and a doctor came racing in, and between them, they managed to calm Inca down. She gestured furiously at the breathing tube. The doctor injected her with a sedative. “Mrs. Winter, if you calm down, I can do some checks, and if you’re breathing on your own, I’ll consider removing the tube. But you have to calm down for me …your abdomen is recovering from serious wounds and the resultant surgery. If you tear an artery, you will bleed out and die. Okay?”
Inca saw Bo wince. The other woman looked back at her and tried to smile. “Welcome back, gorgeous.” She kissed the back of Inca’s fingers, and Inca felt her tears on her skin. “Sweetie, while they look after you, I’m going to get Raff—he’s only getting some coffee. I’ll be right back.”
Inca nodded, the effects of the sedative kicking in. The doctor and nurses did their tests, but a few moments later, Inca could only seehim– her Raffaelo. The look of relief and love on his face was overwhelming, and she thought, as she had done once before, that his smile was better than any painkiller they might give her.
Ama was nervous about walking into the hospital room and seeing her friend so hurt and brutalized. She had not been to see Inca when she was in a coma. Raff had wanted to limit Inca’s visitors because of the risk of infection, and Enda and he had agreed that it would be too hard on Ama.
Ama was convinced Raff blamed her for his wife’s stabbing, even though both Enda and Tommaso assured her nothing could be further from the truth. “He’s just gone into over-protective mode. Although, at this point, I wouldn’t say anything is too overprotective as far as Inca goes.” Tommaso had been almost as devastated by Inca’s attempted murder as Raff, and Ama remembered that he, Tommaso, had loved Inca first. She had hugged him. “I love her too,” she whispered to him, and he nodded, fighting back the tears.
She saw Raff first, and he came to her and wrapped his arms around her. “She’s just sleeping. The pain killers make her so tired.”
Ama walked in and tried not to give a cry of horror. Inca had lost a lot of weight. There were dark circles under her eyes, and her lovely face, even in sleep, was creased in pain.
Ama wobbled, and both Raff and Enda steadied her. Ama turned to Raff. “Is she going to be okay?”
Raff drew in a deep breath. “We hope so. It’ll be a long road to recovery—even longer than last time. We’ll get there. Do you want to sit with her for a while? She should wake up soon.”
