Stone's Revenge, page 15
“My wife and I will be leaving for our...honeymoon this afternoon.”
Both women raise their brows in shock.
“Of course. I can pack your bags for you, Gi—Mrs. Parlatore, if you let me know what you’d like to bring.”
Gia places her hand on Maria’s forearm as if they’re close friends. “Just because we’re married now doesn’t mean you have to go back to formalities. Gia is fine. And I can pack my own bags.” She turns to me. “Is this a casual, fancy, or formal trip? I’m not sure what kind of clothes to pack.”
“It’s a clothing optional trip.”
Maria chokes and picks up the dirty dishes, bolting for the house. This time I do let out a laugh.
“You’re an ass.”
“Which is to be expected by my staff. As is wanting a woman naked and at my disposal.”
Gia tosses her napkin to the table and stands in a huff. “Yeah, well, I’m not one of your call girls, and I sure as hell am not at your disposal.”
She storms off more upset than I’ve seen her in a while. Not since I first dragged her here.
I check in with Marco to make sure my plane is secure, and to see if there is any more word from Parisi. He is pissed as hell, which is exactly how I want him. Caught off guard and angry means he’ll make mistakes. He’ll rush and not check both ways before crossing the road. His end is coming, but I still need to get Gia on board.
She has a part to play, and I’m still not confident she’ll be willing to follow through, or if she can pull it off enough to convince Parisi that I’ve won.
I find myself outside her door. I lift my hand and rap my knuckles on it before entering. She has a suitcase open on the bed and a few items thrown in. From the looks of it, a pair of sneakers and the workout gear I’ve seen her in. No fancy gowns. No heels. Not even a makeup bag.
“Where are we going?” she asks without looking at me. She opens and slams shut the drawers in her walk-in closet. “I don’t want to wear any of this stuff.”
“Don’t pack anything.”
“I’m not prancing around naked for however long we’re gone, and you’re not having a sexfest with me either.”
“Gia.” Fuck. Now I can’t get the image of her strutting around our room naked out of my mind. Sexual chemistry is a two-way street with us. She can deny it all day long, but she wants me. The chase doesn’t bother me as much as I thought it would, but it needs to end. Now.
She ignores me and swats at the row of gowns in her closet. Now she’s pissing me off. My cock is so hard, one wrong move and it will fall off.
“Gia,” I growl. When she still refuses to look at me, I take two long strides to her and pin her against the wall of clothes. “You’re the one who said no sex with anyone but you.”
“I didn’t say that.”
“It’s in writing.” I pin her arms above her head and press my aching dick into her stomach. “You respond like this every time I’m near. You want me. Stop fighting it. It’s just sex.”
The rapid rise and fall of her chest make her breasts brush up against my chest in a rhythm that makes me want her naked even faster.
“I’m not...” She stares at my mouth then turns away, staring at the dresses hanging behind me. “I’m not having sex with you.”
“You’re wet for me right now. I can almost feel it through our clothes.” I imagine her dripping like she was the other night on my yacht. She ached for me at breakfast this morning. Her nipples were hard during the entire meal.
I move my leg between her thighs and press my erection even harder against her.
“Don’t,” she begs.
“If you don’t want me, why cut me off from the other women?”
Gia returns her gaze to mine and looks me straight in the eyes. “To punish you for kidnapping me.”
A knife stabs in my chest at the seriousness in her stare. She means me harm and I want revenge. I’m enraged. No one crosses me, tricks me like this. “You’re my wife. Legally. I have a right to what’s mine.”
“I’m not yours and I’m not giving myself to you.”
“You will,” I grind between clenched teeth and aggressively squeeze her tit.
“Only if you force yourself on me. I didn’t mark you as a rapist.”
Her words have bite, and they sting. They hurt. The knife now twisting as she slowly pulls it out. I drop her wrist and her tit and step back.
“We leave at one-thirty. Pack your fucking closet or not. I don’t give a fuck.” I storm out of her room, this time slamming her door.
She cut me where it hurt the most. Somehow, she found my Achilles heel and reveled in exposing it. I won’t force myself on her and I won’t go against our contract.
There is no way in hell I can carry out my plan right now. She fucked with my head.
And not the one I’ve been fantasizing about.
***
I drop to the closet floor, lower my head to my hands, and cry. I haven’t cried in over a week. Now seems like a good time. I screwed up. I panicked. I’m scared.
Not scared of Stone. Scared of my feelings, so I did what I’ve learned to do these past few years. Fight. Put up a strong front to hide my fears. It’s all I have to save myself. Only, I don’t know what I’m saving myself from.
Sex with Stone? He’s right, I do crave him. It scares me. I don’t want to want him. For Stone, sex is sex. For me, it’s something more. Something I can’t handle right now. I have too many emotions running through my head. Too much stress.
My mother.
Lorenzo.
Antonio Rossi.
Stone.
My own safety.
If I didn’t feel safe with Stone, I wouldn’t have said those things to him. Had I talked back to Lorenzo or Antonio, I’d have been beaten. My mother is proof of that.
I angered Stone. No, I hurt him. I read it in his eyes. He’s the master of hiding his emotions, his reactions, but they are as clear as the Mediterranean Sea.
No doubt about it, I was a bitch. I’ve never been a cruel person. I keep to myself, work hard, and care for Mama. Stone doesn’t deserve my cruelty, especially after giving me the tablet last night. Mama and I talked for three hours before I finally fell asleep.
I told her to call me when she wakes in the morning, which will be any minute. Rising to my feet, I wipe my eyes and put on my big girl panties. Or rather, my luxurious satin and lace thongs. I fold what I have then go back to the closet, taking two simple black dresses off their hangers and rolling them so they won’t wrinkle.
Instead of heels, I pack two pairs of flat sandals that can be dressed up or down, adding the leggings, jeans, and a few shirts. It isn’t my fault Stone won’t tell me where we’re going. I hope we don’t go out in public at all.
But that will mean staying in our hotel room. I don’t know which I fear more, being spotted or being alone with Stone. Either way, I owe him an apology.
Stone is on his phone during the entire drive to the small airstrip. Once we’re on his fancy jet, he sits with Marco, Tio, and Lucca, leaving me on the couch by myself. His men are aware of the details of our marriage so there’s no need to pretend we even like each other in front of them.
I have my tablet with me and am surprised when my mother’s call comes through. I glance over at Stone, who hears the ringing. He lifts his gaze to me for a fraction of a second before returning to his conversation with his men.
If he didn’t want me to answer, he would have stripped the tablet from me. Forcing a smile, I answer the call. “Hi, Mama. How are you?”
Better to have her talk about her day than ask me questions I’m not prepared to answer.
“Mia fagilia. You look tired. You’re sleeping well, yes?”
“Like a baby. How are you sleeping, mama?”
“Ha! You were a terrible sleeper as a baby. Up every hour wanting to be held.” She carries on about stories of my infancy.
I slip off my sneakers and listen to her stories, so pleased she remembers these special moments from her past. It isn’t until she talks about me settling down and bringing her grandchildren that I glance over at Stone.
He’s watching me. Making sure I don’t say anything I shouldn’t, no doubt.
“I’m too independent to be tied down to a man, Mama,” I say, ignoring the heated stare I continue to feel from Stone.
Mama tells me about the breakfast Carla made for her and their dinner plans, then says she has to weed the garden and hangs up. Our talks give me such comfort that she’s well cared for, but also brings me sadness since she’s a world away. Mentally and physically.
Two years is a long time to be without her.
And even longer to be married to a man I shouldn’t want but crave nonstop.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
I’m extra ornery and cross with my men. Thankfully, they know better than to comment on my mood. Tio understands me better than the rest and doesn’t hide his curiosity as well as Marco or Lucca. Only five years my senior, he was brought into the world of crime too young as well.
As a third cousin, he’s the closest thing I have to family aside from Elena. His father hadn’t wanted any part of the Parlatore family legacy either, not that they had any problems inheriting drug money. An artist at heart, he didn’t have it in him to run a business. To make deals, trades, or threats. And especially not carry through on them.
Tio, however, hadn’t inherited his father’s artistic skills and was built like a machine, making him an excellent bodyguard. He’s loyal like a brother, and while not the smartest when it comes to numbers and books, he’s street smart. He trusts his gut more than his brain, which I trust as well.
The pilot’s voice announces our descent. I don’t need to tell Gia to buckle up. She never unbuckled or left her seat during the entire six-hour flight. Nor did she touch the food Marco set out for her hours ago.
The only smile I saw on her lips was when she was talking with her mother. They carried on for nearly an hour and I strained to hear their conversation while pretending I didn’t care at the same time. It’s not that I don’t trust Gia not to reveal our location or our marriage, so why did I tune my men out to hear their mindless chatter?
It isn’t because I miss hearing her voice.
It isn’t because I miss being on the receiving end of her jokes.
It isn’t because I wish I was sitting next to her instead of on the other side of the plane.
I’m mad at her. She cock-blocked me and accused me of wanting to rape her. Maybe not in so many words, but the implication was there. I walk a fine line between using women for sex and making sure the sex is one hundred percent consensual, while also making my demands known.
I’ll never trap a woman into sex. I’ll never force a woman to do anything she isn’t one hundred percent comfortable with. It’s why I carefully select my women, research their backgrounds, make sure they aren’t spreading their legs because someone told them to or because they need money. I won’t ever be as vile and evil as Lorenzo Parisi.
I fuck women who want to be fucked.
And Gia doesn’t want to be.
But hell, what’s eating me alive is more than being turned down. It’s her accusations. The fear that clouds her eyes.
I have no problem making men fear me. Women, innocent women, are not my victims. Only Gia makes it clear that I make her feel like one.
When the plane lands and the crew have the door open, we unbuckle. I let my men go out first to scan the perimeter and make sure the limo and the driver are cleared.
“Where are we?” Gia takes her hair out of her bun and flips it over, then twines it around and around before securing it again.
“You’ll see soon enough,” I snap, irritated that the simple act of her doing her hair turns me on.
“Stone,” she says softly. “I—”
“All clear, boss,” Marco says from the doorway.
“Let’s go.” I don’t wait for her. Not because I’m rude, but because I want to see with my own eyes that the location is safe before having Gia step outside. I scan the area, the setting sun making it difficult to see into the shadows.
Marco, Lucca, and Tio have their backs to me, their eyes trained on the horizon. The dark limo waits at the foot of the steps. I glance over my shoulder, making sure Gia is close, then start down the steps. At the limo, I hold the door open for her until she’s secure inside.
I hear Tio get in the front passenger seat and see Marco and Lucca climb into a dark sedan. The airstrip is small, unknown to many, nestled between mountains and fields. It’s not exactly a hotspot of crime and traffic, but I don’t let my guard down. Ever.
Unless it’s with Gia.
“Stone,” she says softly again from the other side of the limo. “I want to apologize.”
“Apologize?” Now this I don’t expect. Unless she’s playing me again, softening me before she goes in for the kill.
What is she up to? Does she plan on running away once we get there? Reneging on our marriage? No, that will only put her mother at risk. Still, I keep my guard up.
I open my mouth to give her a smart remark about spreading her legs to make up for it when she speaks first.
“I was wrong to make such harsh assumptions about you. I trust you and know you won’t hurt me.”
Well, fuck. She’s given me the one-two. Totally blindsided me. Again. If Gia can catch me off guard, I fear what Lorenzo can do. I’m suddenly grateful for my decision to fly here, not to hide, but to regroup.
“Most assumptions made about me are true. What you see is what you get.” I take out my phone and pretend to ignore her, showing her how much of an asshole I am. I don’t need her smooth words, or even her friendship.
I need her wet pussy.
I close my eyes and mentally shake my head. I want more than that from her. How the hell did I get myself into this situation?
I take a risk and open my eyes. She’s facing away from me, staring out the window into the darkness. I stare at the shape of her neck, wishing I had the right to touch it. Kiss it. My gaze drops to her shoulders, hunched and defeated.
I did this. I took the life and spirit away from her. I need her to truly trust me, or my plan won’t work. While she says she does, her actions speak otherwise. Maybe she will, if I can keep my dick in my pants.
Her trust is paramount in order for me to execute stage one next week. This trip is two-fold. A hide out away from Lorenzo and his men, and a chance to work on Gia, convince her of the show she must put on. I need her to be strong and brave. I’m doing a helluva job building up her confidence.
Twenty minutes later, the driver pulls into the estate. Marco gets out of the car and punches in the code to the gate and we make our way down the long drive. I watch as Gia sits up straighter, straining to see our surroundings. The sun has set, and the trees make it hard to see the grounds.
When the house comes into view, she gasps. “Stone.” She blindly reaches for my hand and squeezes it. “You brought me to my mother.”
She covers her mouth with her free hand and turns to me. Tears glisten in her eyes. A crying woman is not a strong woman. Shit. I failed again.
“Thank you.” She releases my hand then scoots across the emptiness between us and gives me a hug.
People don’t hug me. Elena, sometimes. Mostly it’s the obligatory greeting kiss on the cheek. I don’t do affection. Gia releases me before I’m ready and jumps out of the limo. By the time Marco is at my door, she’s already on the front steps and at the door.
I see her try the door then turn to us in frustration. “It’s locked.”
“As it should be.”
“Does she know I’m here?”
“Only if you told her on the plane.” I enter the code into the front door and push it open, letting Gia enter first.
“I didn’t know...” She takes a step into the house then faces me. “Why didn’t you tell me we were coming here?”
“The element of surprise.” It’s all I can say without lying to her. I don’t want her to worry about her or her mother’s safety.
She curls her lips in and gives me a sad yet hopeful smile. “Thank you.” She takes two steps then calls out. “Mama?”
I follow her through the grand entryway and down the hall to the kitchen. It’s as if she’s been in the house before, knowing where to search.
“Gia? Mi figlia? My baby?” I hear her mother say.
“Mama. Surprise.”
I watch as they embrace, Gia seemingly more affected by their reunion than her mother. Evangeline is happy, no doubt, but her dementia and memory loss have her unaware of the danger she and her daughter have been in.
“You got the day off work?” she asks, dropping her arms to her side. “That’s good. You work too much.”
Evangeline notices me before I can slip down the hall to the study.
“You’re Gia’s boss?”
We haven’t discussed what our story will be. My men have briefed the staff. They’re aware Gia is my wife. I don’t want to risk the possibility that they’ve heard of our marriage and give them something to gossip about with us sleeping in different rooms. They were told that Gia and I are pretending to be boss and employee so as not to stress or confuse her mother.
I’d much rather be posing as her husband, sleeping in her bed. No, not sleeping. I don’t need the comfort of a woman all night. An hour. Two tops.
I avoid Gia’s questioning amber eyes and focus on Evangeline. “It’s nice to meet you, Evangeline. According to your daughter, you walk on water.” I pick up her hand and kiss her knuckles, giving Gia a side glance. See? I’m not always an asshole. “Gia convinced me to give her a working vacation. I promised her time with you, but I’ll need to steal her away from time to time so we don’t fall behind with our work.”
“Oh, that’s quite gracious of you...”
“Stone.” I don’t offer my last name in case she has a moment of recollection. “I’ll leave you two for the night. Gia, we’ll meet in the study tomorrow morning at eight.” I leave the two women to have their alone time.
As instructed, Marco, Tio, and Lucca are in the study waiting for me.
