Page 141 of Secrets of the Brother
She smiled.
She was in shock, that much was clear.
All the bravado and dark humor were coping mechanisms.
Soon, probably in a few hours, the adrenalin would wear off, and the reality of all that happened today would settle in. All the drama and loss. How close she came to dying. The death of her father.
And I would be there to hold her when it hit her body like a physical punch.
Because it would hit me too, how close I came to losing her.
We would be there for each other.
But for now, I would pretend with her, and crack inappropriate jokes, because that was what she needed.
The priest interrupted our conversation. “How the fuck am I supposed to explain another dead body on the altar to the Bishop?”
We looked at the priest and then each other.
Bianca mouthed, “Another?”
I shrugged.
Cesare rested his hand on the priest’s shoulder as he shook his head in sympathy. “Sorry, Father. Had to be done.”
I gestured toward the priest with my head as I looked at Bianca. “You know, since we’re here….”
She narrowed her eyes. “Enzo. I’m not getting married wearing my sister’s whorish wedding gown by a degenerate gambler priest who was willing to marry me at gunpoint to another man! Sorry, Father.”
The priest nodded. “It’s a fair point.”
I swung my arm out in the direction of the altar. “Just because the man is a lowlife who clearly has no business being a man of the cloth doesn’t mean the marriage wouldn’t be legal. Sorry, Father.”
The priest sniffed and raised his nose in the air. “That one stung a little.”
I continued. “And I’ve obviously proved my point that you would be safer married to me.”
Bianca hiked up her gown and stormed down the aisle. “When we get married it will be with me wearing apropergown, in aproperchurch, by aproperpriest!”
I pointed to Cesare and the priest. “She saidwhenwe get married this time, not if. You both are my witnesses!”
I then ran down the aisle and caught up with Bianca to swoop her into my arms and carry her out of the church into the bright sunshine.
CHAPTER38
BIANCA
One month later
I tiltedmy head to the right as I pushed the diamond cascade earring through my earlobe. “Enzo, hurry up! We’re going to be late!”
He called out from the shower, “You could join me in here! Help me hold the soap.”
I smoothed the wavy curl in my hair. “Nice try. I know what happens when you playhold the soap.”
A ripple of pleasure pooled in my stomach at his deep, masculine chuckle.
Although the cottage was a bit of a construction zone mess, we had spent most nights over the last three weeks here. Preferring the quiet solitude of each other’s company to the often-boisterous atmosphere of the main villa, which always seemed to be a hive of activity.
