Deep (Pagano Family #4)(38)

“What are you saying?”

“I said what I meant, Beverly. What are you hearing?” She blushed bright red and looked down at the floor. He hooked a finger under her chin and made her face him. “Tell me.”

Lifting her head free of his hand, she huffed. “Oh, what the hell. That you want to be with me. Is that what you’re saying?”

It was. He did. Whatever that meant. What he felt about Beverly was different from what he’d felt about Vanessa—or any of his other comares. They had been amusing distractions, ornaments, a required part of his capo package. He’d enjoyed lavishing gifts on them, he’d enjoyed the handsomeness of the couple he made with them, he’d enjoyed f*cking them.

He could see enjoying all of that with Beverly, too. But there was something else underpinning the usual veneer. He was interested in her. In her history, in the way she saw the world. In the heart that she simply held out to people with faith that they would be gentle, even as she feared they would not.

“Yes, bella. That’s what I’m saying.”

“Oh, shit.” She stepped to him and leaned her forehead on his chest. “Oh, shit. Oh, shit.”

Feeling a pull in his chest at the light pressure of her head on him, Nick fed his fingers into her soft hair. Holding her head, he lifted her away. Her expression was completely open, that 3D movie playing in her blue eyes. Staring down into them, he saw faith and trust. And fear.

He kissed her. Unlike the last time, now she responded immediately, opening her mouth, drawing his tongue in and sucking on it. Surprised and captivated by such unexpected boldness, and feeling the rhythmic pulse of her mouth straight down to his cock, he let go of her head and wrapped his arms around her body. For the first time, he had her fully in his arms, and she felt divine.

And then she went stiff. Her mouth stopped and released his tongue. She wasn’t breathing. With a rush, he remembered her ribs and let her go.

“I’m hurting you.”

She took a halting breath. “It’s okay. I don’t want to stop.” When she stepped up and reached her arms to his shoulders, she winced and tried to recover before he could see, but seeing was part of who he was. He pulled her arms from his neck.

“No. We’ll wait until you’re healed.”

“Nick…” She made a face like a pout, and he laughed. At the sound of it, her bright smile filled her face with sunshine again.

“We’ll wait until you’re healed.” He brushed his thumb over the healing scrape on her cheekbone. “I’m not gentle, Beverly. I want you healed first.”

Her eyes widened and her pupils went fully open. He knew if he put his hand between her legs, she’d be hot and wet. It took immense self-control not to do exactly that. Instead, he took her hand. “You said you were hurting already. Do you need your pills?”

With a little shake of her head, she found her equilibrium. “Probably. But they knock me out. If you’re going to be here, I don’t want to go to sleep.”

He led her to her sofa and sat her down. “I have work to do, so I can’t stay all day. But take your pills, and I’ll stay with you until you fall asleep. You can tell me about your shitty day.” He wanted to know more about her fight with Chris—he was getting a sense that there was a problem there that needed solving.

He went into the kitchen, where he’d seen her pills. He got her a glass of water and then opened the bottle. Before he shook a dose out, he checked the contents, estimating that she’d only had four doses up to this point.

After he handed her the pills and the water and she took them, he lifted her legs and turned her to lie on the sofa with her legs over him. He tried to think if he’d ever done something like that before. He didn’t think so. He’d had quiet nights in with women, watching television, and he’d put his arm around them and held them close, or swung them around for a f*ck. But what he was doing now was something new.

“What happened with Chris, bella?” His hand moved in circles over her thighs; he could feel her heat.

She arranged a pillow under her head, comfortable and content with their position. “I don’t want to talk about him. Why do you call me bella?”

“It means beautiful. You are.” She blushed; it made him smile.

Then she asked, “Do you speak Italian?”

“A little. Mostly sweet nothings and threats.” With a chuckle, he added, “Whispers, both.”

“Can you say, ‘I’m gonna make him an offer he can’t refuse’ in Italian?”

He cocked an eyebrow at her. “What I do isn’t a joke, Beverly.”

“I know. Trust me, I know.” She didn’t know half what she thought she did, but he didn’t intend that she ever would. He was about to bring their talk back to Chris, when she grinned brightly. “But you know, don’t you?”

“Yeah, I know.”

“C’mon. Please?”

He sighed and rolled his eyes. “Gli farò un’offerta che non potrà rifiutare.”

“God, that’s really hot,” her voice was low, her eyelids heavy with desire. “Say more. Say something sweet.”

She was completely open and trusting with him again, the fear gone from her lidded eyes. He felt the satisfaction of it like heat low in his gut, making his cock swollen and stiff. “Dolce means ‘sweet.’ Dolcezza is something like ‘sweetheart.’” Feeling her arousal radiating from her, he shifted and leaned over, careful to keep his weight from her. The movement put her thigh hard against his erection, and he groaned. “Cara is ‘dear.’ Tesoro means ‘treasure.’ My mother called my father tesoro mio—‘my treasure.’”