Deep (The Pagano Family Book 4) (31 page)

 

Nick’s expression had been shifting during her diatribe, and by the time she said her last sentence, he was smiling. “
Comare
. But close. I told you before, I’ve never cheated. I’ve had plenty of relationships back to back, but I don’t cheat.” He leaned toward her and pulled at the hem of her knit top. When he spoke again, his voice was low and rough. “You’re plenty for me,
bella
. I love you. I’d have been faithful even if you’d never wanted me inside you again.” His hand slid under her top and over the skin of her belly. “But you do want me inside you.” His other hand pushed up her short, flowing skirt and slid along the outside of her thigh, under her panties, and around to cup her cheek. “Don’t you?”

 

He pulled her down to lie on the sofa under him. “Don’t you?”

 

She did. The exhilaration she’d felt at getting truly, thoroughly angry and speaking her mind, standing up for herself, was making her nerves and muscles buzz pleasantly, and she realized, when his hand left her side to move under her skirt and panties, that her pussy was buzzing, too. And soaking wet.

 

His fingers brushed back and forth over her clit, and the intensity of the pleasure made her body twitch and bounce. His mouth hovered just above hers. Wanting to taste him, to feel his tongue moving with hers in the way she knew so well, she lifted her head and tried to catch him, but he lifted away. “Don’t you?”

 

She no longer had any idea what he was talking about. The fingers of one hand were at her clit, those of the other hand brushed lightly up and down over her anus, his mouth was tantalizingly close to hers. “Don’t I what?” she growled, frustrated.

 

“Want me inside you. You want me to fill you up and fuck you hard. I can feel your pussy throbbing already.”

 

“If you already know, why are you still talking?”

 

“Good point.” He slid his fingers inside her, and Bev thought she’d come right then. She surged toward him, getting his fingers deeper, and made a noise in the back of her throat.

 

He laughed. “God, I love that. You’re back,
bella
. You’re back.” He took hold of her panties and yanked, ripping them at both sides at once. The harsh pull of the tearing fabric burned her hips and made her cry out.

 

Without moving too far away, he reached down and opened his pants. And then he filled her up and fucked her hard.

 

~ 21 ~

 

 

“I have something for you,
bella
.” He pulled the zipper up the back of Beverly’s pearl-grey lace dress. Her curves were returning, and the dress fit her perfectly, easing over the flawless swell of her ass. He took a moment and indulged himself, sliding his hands over the lace, across her shoulders, down her arms, around her hips, up her sides. When she sighed and leaned back on him, he smiled and kissed her temple.

 

“Another gift? Where do you find the time to do all this shopping?”

 

He didn’t, in fact, have to do much shopping. He had a jeweler, Deirdre, who set things aside for him and let him know when she’d found something of particular interest. He thought he’d spoken to Deirdre more about Beverly by now than anyone else in his life. When he’d bought her the dress she was now wearing, he’d called and described it, and Deirdre had suggested what was in his jacket pocket now.

 

He’d be disappointed when she’d taken possession of the bookshop and was working again. He’d found a kind of fulfillment in taking care of her. But as much as Beverly admired his aunt and his mother, she would never be like them in this way—they had both been content to be homemakers. Both had thrown themselves into that role, running their houses, throwing parties, doing charity work.

 

Beverly’s insistence that she needed to work was a source of both pride and concern for Nick. He was proud of her strength and resilience, of her refusal to back away from this thing she wanted. But he was concerned, too, and not simply for her safety. Though he meant to keep his business away from his family, his family bore on his reputation, and that crossed both lines. She would have a role in the Pagano family, a time consuming one.

 

Or she would when she accepted his next gift, the one currently being custom-made by his jeweler.

 

“Do my gifts bore you? Are you going to deny me this pleasure?” He was teasing, as he knew she was, too. She enjoyed his pampering.

 

“No.” She looked up and him and smirked. “If it makes you happy, I suppose I can bear up under the strain.”

 

He ducked his head and nipped at her neck. “So brave.” He pulled out the long, slim box and handed it to her.

 

She opened it. “Oh. Oh! Nick, God. It’s too much.”

 

The bracelet was clusters of small diamonds, alternating with Akoya pearls, set in platinum. He lifted the strand off the satin lining and took the empty box from her, tossing it on the bed behind them.

 

“If it were too much, I wouldn’t have bought it.” He clasped it around her wrist. “It matches your dress.”

 

She swiveled her wrist, letting the sunlight streaming through her bedroom window catch the facets of the diamonds. “Thank you. You make me feel beautiful.”

 

“You are beautiful.
Sei bella
.” He turned her to face him and kissed her lips. Then he trailed along her jaw, down her throat, over her collarbone, whispering between every touch of his lips. “You’re strong…
Sei forte
…You’re sexy…
Sei
…”—he chuckled—“
sexy
…You’re the great love of my life…
Sei il grande amore della mia vita
…You’re my sun…
Sei il mio sole
.”

 

Pressing her body to his, she moaned. He moved his hands up her back to the zipper he’d just closed. He pulled it down.

 

“Nick, no.” The sigh that bore her words belied the sincerity of her protest. “We’re supposed to be at the church soon.”

 

“We’ll be there in time to see her walk down the aisle.” He eased the dress off her shoulders and brought it with him as he sank to his knees before her. He’d bought her the lingerie set she was wearing, too. Sheer lace in blush pink. It was a powerful aphrodisiac to see his woman dressed head to toe in his gifts.

 

He eased the panties off her hips. “I want to taste you before we go.”

 

 

~oOo~

 

 

They made it in time.

 

Nick had been surprised that Carmen wanted a big wedding. She wasn’t, he’d have said, the type. But seeing his Uncle Carlo beaming in the vestibule, he understood. The wedding was for her father. He was doing it up for his girl, and Carmen was letting him.

 

The church was completely full, both sides of the pews. The groom, Theo Wilde, was some kind of author, not a bestseller but an award-winner, and it looked like he had a great many friends.

 

Uncle Ben and Nick had discreetly provided heavy security around the church. Though Alvin Church had been ended at the beginning of the summer, and now the season was near its end, neither Nick nor Ben had thought complacency prudent. The people who had been their enemies had had no compunction about hurting innocents and attacking family events—in fact, family had been their preferred targets. In time, someone else would test the Paganos. Nick was determined to be ready whenever it happened.

 

In the meantime, he would enjoy life in its peace.

 

At his side, Beverly crossed one shapely leg over the other. He put his hand on her thigh, sliding his fingers under the hem of her lace dress. She wrapped her arms around his arm and laid her head on his shoulder. He kissed her head, lingering there, smelling her sweet shampoo.

 

Peace.

 

Carmen had two bridesmaids, Sabina and Rosa, and Theo had two groomsmen, his grown sons. Nick had only met one, the older, Eli. He was Rosa’s guy. The younger son was wearing his tux with a idiosyncratic flair that was scandalizing some of the more elderly guests. His evident eyeliner had caused some flutters, too.

 

The preparations had been fairly speedy for a wedding of this size. They’d only been engaged for a couple of months. And they lived in Maine now. The Pagano women of Quiet Cove—specifically Sabina, Adele, Angie, and Nick’s mother—had taken on the burden of the work. And Beverly had been pulled in, too.

 

Nick had been surprised at that—she’d still been reeling from Mills’ death when his mother had called her. But, typical of Beverly, she’d been happy to help, and now she was deep in the bosom of his family. She’d spent more time on Caravel Road in the past two weeks than Nick had in probably the past two years.

 

As he was scanning the crowd, getting a bead on his guys, Beverly shifted, leaning away. “Sure, I’ll take her,” he heard her say.

 

He turned back to see Carmen and Theo’s daughter, Teresa, dressed in a tiny lavender dress, in Beverly’s arms. Adele was easing out of their pew and moving up one. She must have asked for help with the baby. And then he met his mother’s eyes, and she smiled.

 

He smiled back, shaking his head. That woman was wily, he’d give her that.

 

Teresa was a beautiful, quiet little girl, with big, blue eyes, lots of black hair, and a pretty little rosebud of a mouth. She was—Nick counted quickly—six months old but looked quite a bit younger because she’d been born ten weeks premature. And that was another hurt to lay on the pyre of their war with Church: Carmen getting shot when she was seven months pregnant. At Nick’s father’s funeral.

 

It seemed a selfish thing to consider bringing a child into a world where such things could happen.

 

The music started, and the bridesmaids began their procession. Nick knew that was happening and that almost everyone was watching the aisle. He, though, was watching Beverly as she settled Teresa in her arms and let her play with the new bracelet dangling from her wrist.

 

His mother needn’t have conspired to put a baby in Beverly’s arms where he could see. He already wanted this, and he supposed he was selfish, because was undeterred by the dangers of his life. But he didn’t want to rush her. The summer had been excruciating for her, and he wanted to be sure she was truly back and strong.

 

Seeing her now, cooing quietly at the sweet child in her arms, not minding at all that Teresa was sucking on $15,000 worth of diamonds and pearls, Nick was overrun with a need he could only think of as homesickness.

 

He wasn’t sure he could wait much longer to have everything he selfishly wanted.

 

 

~oOo~

 

 

Though the wedding had been surprisingly formal, the reception was on the beach. His cousins did everything at the beach. Two big pavilion tents had been set up on Carmen’s stretch of sand, near her cottage. John lived there now.

 

Nick wasn’t especially comfortable on the beach. To him, the beauty and power of the ocean was in its solitude. The beach on a late-summer Saturday afternoon was anything but solitary. Especially when a few hundred people were all gathered together to celebrate.

 

Beverly was enjoying herself, however, and he enjoyed that. At the moment, she was down at the waterline, standing in the surf, talking to Luca’s wife, Manny. She was wearing a simple but beautiful one-piece bathing suit that was the exact blue of her eyes. It wasn’t one he’d seen before; when she did laps, she wore a basic Speedo.

 

She’d tried to coax him into wearing swim trunks, but that was not his way. He was a strong swimmer, and he’d have been happy to do laps with her in the pool if didn’t mean he’d have to give up watching her from above. But he didn’t splash in the surf. Or play volleyball. Or otherwise behave like a child or a drunken college boy.

 

He was in jeans. And she’d convinced him to unbutton his shirt and take his shoes off. That was beachy enough.

 

The spread was both casual and sumptuous. In one of the tents was a dinner buffet with tables arrayed around it—all the standard New England beach fare, stepped up a couple of notches. The other tent was an open bar. Most people were milling about in the sand, occasionally going into one tent or the other. Everyone seemed to be having a good time.

 

Nick stood at a remove from the crowd, drinking a bottled lager from the Quiet Cove Brewery, watching Beverly while she moved lazily through the water, chatting with Manny. Every now and then he scanned the edges, making note of his guys.

 

“What is it you do for fun?” A wry female voice came from behind him, and he turned to see Carmen grinning at him, her own bottle of lager now at her lips. She was wearing a bright red bikini. Blushing bride, indeed.

 

He grinned and kissed her cheek. “Hey, Carm. Best wishes. You look happy.”

 

“Thanks. I am. You should try it. It’s pretty great.”

 

Ignoring her gibe, he sent her one of his own. “Where’s your man? You lose him already?”

 

She punched his arm lightly. “Changing a diaper. How come you’re off here in Siberia?”

 

“You know this isn’t my thing.”

 

“Fun, right. Not your thing.”

 

He lifted an eyebrow at her. Carmen teasing him about not being able to have fun was pretty fucking rich. Guest of honor or not, she hated these things almost as much as he did. On more than one occasion, they’d sat together on the outskirts of gatherings like this. “You’re feeling pretty saucy today.”

 

“I am. My life is as it should be. I’m thirty-eight years old, but I finally figured it out.” She knocked his beer bottle with hers. “What about you?”

 

At her question, Nick looked back across the beach to Beverly.

 

Carmen laughed. “I like her. And everybody else looooooves her. I’m sure I will, too, once I get to know her better. She’s sweet.”

 

To Carmen, ‘sweet’ wasn’t exactly a compliment. Nick turned and gave her a sharp look, ready to defend his woman.

 

“Easy, fella. I meant that nicely. She’s obviously not a doormat, or you wouldn’t be so googly-eyed. If she can handle you, then I have no doubt that she has a spine of steel. But the grannies adore her. I’m pretty sure Aunt Betty has names picked out for your first eight children. I’m just saying you might have found the perfect woman if she’s that interesting
and
has your mother planning a remodel of the upstairs bedrooms into kids’ rooms. Usually she’s staring daggers at the backs of your blondes.”

 

“You’re exaggerating.”

 

“I am not. Aunt Angie and Aunt Betty were muttering about interior decorators the other night while they were putting together those silly party favors for the kids. They shut up quick when Bev came in the room.” There were a lot of kids at this reception. Each one got a plastic bucket filled with beach toys. Each bucket had been hand-painted with Carmen and Theo’s names. Apparently not Carmen’s idea—which Nick would have guessed. That had Angie and Betty’s fingerprints all over it. They’d probably seen it on Martha Stewart or something.

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