Deep (Pagano Family #4)(103)

He needed something, too. Sliding up over her again, he spread her legs wide and entered her. She gasped in surprise, and her eyes flew open, and he was glad. Those gleaming blue eyes were on his right away, full of trust and love. He reached up and released the scarf with one hand, then pulled it free of her wrists.

“Hold me, bella. I need you to hold me.”

She did, wrapping her arms and legs around him so tightly she nearly came off the bed. He slid his hands under her and held her even closer, then sat back on his heels, bringing her with him. They rocked together, their bodies entirely entwined, and came together—quietly, gently, their bond unbreakable, their passion consuming.



oOo



After Beverly was deep in a damp, exhausted sleep, Nick eased out of bed and pulled a pair of sweats and a t-shirt on. He went out onto the balcony off the bedroom and lit a cigarette. In the bright light of a full moon, from the second floor, he could see the waves hitting the beach below. There was a heavy breeze, and the dark ink of the night ocean surged and rolled, crashing into a froth on the sand and arcing violently against the rocks. But not far out, where the ocean deepened, it grew calm, its power only apparent in the gentle heave that would become waves closer to shore.

He was going to be a father. He had real love, and they would make a family.

He was going to have a complete life. A full existence.

His world was in balance, business and family as they should be.

There were secrets, but that was the way of his world. Every good, every bad, had its equal. There would always be secrets. The balance was in keeping them deep, where the ocean heaved but didn’t crash. Where it swallowed what shouldn’t be known.

He drew on his cigarette, the ember glowing red against the dark blue of the coastal spring night.

He would keep his love, his family safe. He would never hurt Beverly, or their children. He would never allow them to be hurt, no matter what his business required of him. He would protect them from his darkness and the darkness around him. He would give his wife the life and happiness she deserved, and he would send his children on other paths than his.

She would never be sorry she’d bound herself to him.

Il vero amore è senza rimpianti. True love has no regrets.

The door opened behind him. “Hey. You’re having smoking thoughts tonight? Should I be worried?”

He stubbed out his smoke and turned to Beverly with a smile. She was wearing her terrycloth robe, a far cry from what he’d pulled off her earlier. “No, bella. No worries. Never any worries for you. Not anymore.” He drew her into his arms. She was shivering. “You’re cold. We should go in.”

She shook her head against his chest. “No. I feel cozy like this. I want to be here for a minute.”

He kissed her temple and slid a hand over her belly, where his tiny child lay growing. “You’re everything to me, bella. I love you.”

She snuggled in even closer, and they stood together and listened to the roar of the ocean below.





Epilogue


Nick pulled a pink towel off the rod and opened it wide. He squatted and said, “Come, come,” and his daughter Lia giggled and ran into his arms. He dried her, then wound the towel around her and picked her up.

“Okay, gattina, let’s get you dressed for bed.”

“Can we read Princesses?” Lia scooted her hands out of her towel burrito and threw them around her father.

He walked her out of the bathroom and across the hall, into her pink room. “Princesses? Again? That’s three bedtimes in a row. Pick another book.” He set her down and unwrapped her, then handed her a clean nightgown and panties.

Lia sat on the floor and stuck each still-chubby leg through her panties, then stood and pulled them up, bouncing and shimmying until they were over her bottom. “No, Papa. I want Princesses.”

“What if Elisa wants something else? It’s past bedtime. We only have time for one story. It should be her turn to pick.”

“’Lisa likes bad books. Too many words.” Lia pouted. “Princesses is the best book. There are sparkles in the pictures.” She pulled her nightgown over her head with a flourish.

His second daughter looked like the sweetest, shyest child in the world. With huge, green eyes, the lower lip of her little bow mouth fuller than her upper, her eyebrows canted down at the ends just a tad, she always seemed to be ready to cry. She did not cry easily, however. She was, in fact, a tough little cookie with a quick temper and a sharp tongue. But at three, she had already figured out how to use her sweet beauty to her advantage.

He was onto her, but it didn’t matter. She’d turn those eyes on him, and he’d cave. Picking up her little pink hairbrush, he sat on the edge of her bed and pulled her between his legs, turning her to face away from him. “Okay. Princesses. But then Elisa gets a story, too, and you have to sit quietly for it.” He ran the brush through her long, auburn hair, still damp from her bath.

“Ow, Papa!” She turned around and gave him a baleful stare. “You don’t do it right. I want Mamma.”

“Mamma’s sleeping with your baby sister. They’re tired. You’re stuck with Papa.” Carina had been born only ten days before. He turned Lia back around and resumed brushing her hair, going even more gently now.

She crossed her arms over her little chest. “I didn’t want a sister. I have a sister. I wanted a brother. Mamma wouldn’t be tired if she brought me a brother.”