Page 55 of Gary
He could not breathe. He had heard about the explosion that had happened just before he left and overheard his uncle George and his dad talking about extreme measures and going too far.
“Your father died in a fire?”
She nodded. “No one was supposed to be in the building. It was a weekday and normally he would be at work, but he wasn’t feeling well, and he went home early.
He died from smoke inhalation. It must have been horrible for him because he was asthmatic.” She swiped at the tears she had not known was flowing down her cheeks. “I have never been able to talk about it.”
He had to get some air. Of all the woman in the entire world, he had to fall in love with the one who was going to despise him when she found out the truth.
“Would you excuse me?” He was shaking, his heart pounding inside his chest and any minute now, she was going to realize that something was wrong.
“Oh, of course,” she was staring at him puzzled, but he had to get away.
Sliding off the bed, he grabbed a robe and left the room in a hurry.
He went downstairs and headed straight to the bar where he poured himself a half a glass of bourbon, taking it with him to sit in front of the fireplace. His family had killed her dad, for a frigging building and he didn’t doubt it. He had lived with them long enough to know their tactics.
Smoke out the problem, whether literally or metaphorically. They would try to use charm and persuasion, when that did not work, they would resort to other methods. His fingers were gripping the squat glass so tight, he felt as if his bones were about to shatter. He could not face her.
Not yet. He had asked her to move in with him, had proposed marriage and meant every word of it, but he was going to have to tell her the truth and when he did, she was going to hate him with a virulence, he would not be able to endure.
His family was still messing with his life, he thought bitterly. He should have stayed in Italy. If he had, none of this would be happening. He would have eventually met some beautiful Italian girl and gotten married, one would not despise him because of his name.
He should have stayed. Why the hell did he come back? Now he had tasted love and God Almighty, he loved her so much, he could scarcely breathe! Now he had tasted love, he knew without a shadow of a doubt that he would never be able to forget her.
He would never be able to move on. His old man had accused him of being more like his uncle Graham and he had no idea how true that was.
The man had been in love with one woman for his entire life. It was going to be the same for him. He was in love with a woman he had no right to. He was going to have to let her go. He was going to have to walk away when she ordered him to. He was…
“What’s wrong?”
He had been so mired down in misery that he had not heard her soft footsteps.
Looking up, he saw her framed in the doorway. She had donned a thin black silk robe; she had brought with her and her hair was tumbling around her shoulders.
“I just needed a drink.”
“You have a cabinet inside the bedroom.” She pointed out.
“It’s not as fully stocked as this one.” He stretched out a hand to her and forced a smile.
Hesitantly, she moved towards him as if realizing that he was not being straight with her. Taking her hand, he tugged her onto hislap. Putting the glass down, he curved an arm around her waist and cradled her head on his chest.
“I am in love with you,” he told her quietly. At least she would have that when the truth came out. “I just want you to know that you have made me so happy.”
He stroked her back slowly. “I never expected anything like this, when I came back home and then I met you.” His mouth twisted painfully, and he felt like raging at fate for doing this to him. “And I am so damn sorry about your dad.”
“It’s not your fault and you really should not be saying those things to me. It’s too soon.”
He shifted so that he could look into her eyes. “You don’t believe that. You who are a born romantic should not be putting a time limit on love. It can happen, in a split second and it did. It happened the first time I saw you.” He stroked her cheek slowly, a smile touching his lips. “I don’t expect you to say it back to me, that is not why I told you.
I just wanted you to know.” His smile faded. “But now, I want to make love to you. All of you. Right here by the fire blazing in the hearth. I want to make it last; I want to just worship your body until we are both lost in the violence of passion.”
Setting her aside, he rose and went to gather blankets and cushions to place in front of the fire. “I want it to be memorable.” He spread the blankets and arranged the cushions, before coming to stand in front of her.
“What’s wrong?” She whispered.
“Nothing.” Removing his robe, he clamped his hands on her shoulders and gave her a deeply intimate look as he removed her robe. “I want to lose myself in you.”