End of the Innocence(24)

“I want to marry you.”

I laughed softly. “We are getting married.”

“Sooner. I want my family to recognize you for who you are, my wife.” He brushed a bit of hair off my face and studied my eyes. The intensity of his eyes silenced the flippant response in my throat. “Leo and the others, they understand that you are to be left alone, but I won’t sleep soundly until you are fully protected. As my wife.”

I swallowed, seeing the worry in his eyes. “Brad, I’ll be fine.” He said nothing, and I ran my hand along his wrist gently. “I need this time, I need to know that I am making the right decision.”

He shook his head quickly and let out a small smile. “The right decision is for me to snatch you up quickly, before you realize that you can do better than me.”

I tilted my head playfully—mock thinking. “You know ... you may be right, Mr. De Luca.”

“But no one,” he growled, bringing his mouth down to my neck and teasing the curve of it, “will ever love you like I love you.”

I said nothing, allowing my soul to swoon as his lips took a slow, lengthy journey up my neck and to my lips. Inside, I fought with my mind as it swooped through endless scenarios that could occur with our future. Then his mouth took mine, and I forgot everything but the sensation of pure, premarital bliss.





Chapter 18


After I polished off some pecan pie we moved—Brad, Maria and I—a threesome of normal, up a giant staircase onto a quiet floor and down a plush hallway. Brad’s hand protectively at my back, I recognized this for what it was—time. Maria gave me a small smile, kissed Brad gently on the cheek, and leaned on a large set of double doors.

It was dark inside, and I blinked, trying to adjust to the light. Dark mahogany lined the walls of my dream library, a space filled with books of every shape and size. Other than bookshelves, there was one fireplace, four chairs, and three men. The family.

Maria excused herself, leaving me as the sole vagina in the room, a ratio that left me distinctly uncomfortable. I fought the urge to fidget as we stepped forward.

Beauty. That was the first thing that hit my mind. The genes that blessed Brad with an impressive stature, gorgeous features, and mind-numbing sex appeal hadn’t skipped over his siblings. Two dark, younger versions of Brad, similar in their devastation, but slightly varied in features, stood before me, flanking an older man, who stood at our entrance. He stepped forward, aided by a cane, a tall man with a shock of white hair and dark skin. He stopped before us and tilted his head at me.

“You must be Julia.” A scratchy voice spoke, that despite its tenor, commanded respect. Eyes that studied me carefully.

Unsure of the proper protocol, I stepped forward, extending a hand and shaking his. He had a fierce grip, and grabbed my opposite shoulder as he grasped my hand, locking me into his space, his eyes arresting me. They searched my soul, a desperate invasion that explored every inch, distrust and accusation in their depths. With a jerk, he released my hand, turning away from me and walking carefully back to a leather chair which he sank into, words tumbling from his mouth with a sigh. “Please, sit. I am weary from today’s activities.”

Brad gestured to a chair and I sat, my legs shaky. He stood beside me, strong and tall. “We can’t stay long. We have other obligations.”

His father scoffed, an action that turned into a cough, and he stopped for a moment, his face turning red before he let out a series of coughing barks. One of the men beside him stepped forward, concern in his eyes, and the old man waved him off irritably. “Stop that, sit down. Everyone, sit down. Brad, find a chair. I won’t have you hovering above me like a damn hawk.”

I glanced at Brad, noting his tight face, and watched as he nodded, dragging up a chair, wariness across his features.

“I assume you know the business of this family?” It was a dry question, stated without malice or concern, directed at me.

I nodded, meeting his sharp eyes. “Yes.”

“And you find ... issue, with this business?” He watched me closely, sitting back in his chair and studying me.

I stared back, my face expressionless. “Issue would be the wrong word. I disagree with your business practices. Issue indicates that I am confrontational in my disapproval.”

A slow smile spread over his face, a transformation that brought a hint of the good looks he must have once possessed. “That’s an interesting choice of words, Ms. Campbell.”

I said nothing, and he glanced briefly at Brad. “What exactly are your intentions with my son?”

“I intend to marry him.”

“Yes, I gathered that from my son. The issue is, Ms. Campbell, that marrying Bradley is not quite as simple as happily ever after. Do you love my son?”