Fire Bound (Sea Haven Sisters)(122)

There was an edge to his voice that warned her to stop, but she needed him to know. “You helped me to see what Luigi was. Not what I wanted him to be.”



“Giacinta,” he reprimanded.



“No, honey. This needs to be said. I need to say it. I persisted in seeing Luigi as the uncle I wanted him to be. I did. Even after he ordered Alberto to kill me. I still had this tiny little hope in the back of my mind that a miracle would happen and he somehow was being framed.”



She sighed. Ducked her head. The black wig fell around her face, reminding her that she needed to remove it. Lissa Piner had to get on the train, not Patrice. She pulled the wig off and tucked it into her bag.



“Today would have been impossible without you. I still hadn’t come to terms with the truth. Seeing him like that, in the car. Even if I’d pulled that off without you, I wouldn’t have left him there.”



“I know. You don’t have to tell me that.”



His voice. She loved his voice. The way he could touch her physically when he wasn’t touching her at all. Just his voice. Soft. Velvet. Brushing along her skin. Over nerve endings. The way he could use his voice like a caress was sinful.



“I do. I do have to tell you, Casimir. You have to know that you helped me see that the man I thought was family, was my uncle, never truly was. He didn’t exist. You’re real. You saw me when no one else could and you let me into your life. You loved me and married me. You’re real. My sisters are real. We built a family together, the six of us. We don’t share blood, but that doesn’t make us any less of a family. They accepted me without condition. I believe that even knowing all of this, knowing what I’ve done, they’ll still accept me because they have accepted their men without reservation. Your brothers are real. They call me family and it means something to them. Even Viktor, as much as he worries me because of Blythe, I believe he would put his life on the line for any one of us. I know your other brothers would. I have all that. Every one of us suffered something traumatic outside of our control. Luigi didn’t. He simply wanted things he couldn’t have and it twisted him into something malevolent. He wasn’t anything like the child I was made him out to be. You gave me that insight.”



“How did I do that, malyshka?” he asked gently.

“Just by being the man you are,” she answered truthfully.





18



Lissa opened her eyes and found it was still night. A very bright night. There were no coverings over the window and the moon was a big round ball in the sky, so bright stars seemed faded into the background around it. Casimir lay sprawled out next to her, on his back, one arm under her, locking her to him even in sleep, the other over his eyes as if the light bothered him even in his sleep.



Casimir liked it dark. Very dark. In his room at Luigi’s he always had the heavy drapes pulled over the windows. She lay partially over him, her head on his shoulder, one leg slung over his thighs. He preferred her sleeping on him. If not on him, then certainly so close she was tucked almost beneath him. He didn’t like any distance between them at all.



The castle was still being renovated into a hotel. They had the entire floor to themselves, as it wasn’t open yet to the public. Lissa really liked the owners. They had good business sense and everything they chose to do was done well, without breaking them financially. They wanted a chandelier for the very large great room they were using as a lobby.



Eventually they would purchase a second one for the dining room, but they were concentrating on first impressions at the moment. That and the rooms they would be renting to guests. Each room was actually a suite. They wanted the rooms to be exclusive, with full amenities, rooms everyone would want to return to. Lissa could attest to the fact that they had done a good job. The bed in their suite was amazing.



She studied Casimir while he slept. The moonlight played over his body with a loving hand. It was warm, so they had only slept with a sheet, and that had been kicked off sometime earlier. She had the chance to really look at him, to memorize every inch of him. He was beautiful. He really was. He might be masculine, but that didn’t take away from his beauty. His muscles looked sculpted. He was perfectly proportioned. Her gaze moved down his chest to the sinful twelve-pack on his belly she wanted to just punch him for. He probably had been born with that. She had to work for that kind of core strength.



Her gaze moved lower, and her breath hitched in her lungs. She’d never given much thought to how men’s penises looked in rest or fully erect. She had no inhibitions. It wasn’t like sex embarrassed her in the least. To her, it was as natural as breathing. If one was going to engage in sexual activities, she believed they should strive to be the best they could for their partner.