Perfect Match (Vice Club Nights #2)

27. Gio

Chapter twenty-seven

Gio

T rue to my word, Tori is asleep in the bed beside me in my Manhattan penthouse a week later. Every night, I hold her, waiting for her breathing to even out as she falls asleep. And every morning, like this morning, I watch her sleeping peacefully, mapping the smattering of freckles over her nose and cheeks that, as the bruises fade, are becoming more visible. She’s so beautiful, and the thought that I nearly lost her means I’ve become a little obsessed with keeping her safe.

There have been a couple more nightmares, but she hasn’t woken up screaming again like she did the night in the hospital. And each time, I whisper that I love her and that I’ll keep her safe, and she drops back to sleep tucked into my arms.

For someone who had never told a woman that I loved her before, I’ve been uttering the words to Tori daily.

I knew the day I met her that she was a rare beauty with a wicked sense of fun, but what I didn’t realize was how completely she would become every dream and desire I had for the future. She’s changed my life, all for the better.

My priorities now rest where they should be—with her and my brothers rather than with the father who has manipulated and lied to us all our lives. My heart, once cavalier and restless, has found a home with this wonderful woman. The woman who I hope to make my wife one day.

“Are you staring at me again?” Tori asks, her voice husky from sleep.

“I might have been.”

“You know it’s a little weird, don’t you?”

“You call it weird; I call it love.”

She smiles, and with the bruising having turned purple, green, and now a light brown, it’s almost back to her natural one.

“That’s all right, then, because I love you too.” She scoots across the bed to tuck into my side, her palm coming to rest on my bare chest. I carefully slide my arm around her, knowing that the bruising around her ribs is still tender.

“Hey, didn’t you promise that you would take me out tonight?” she says once we’re settled again. I like how we snuggle together like this for a bit of a chat every morning. It’s a long way from how I used to jump straight out of bed the moment I opened my eyes.

“I did.” I bury my face in her wildflower-scented hair.

Tori has been complaining about being stuck inside while she recovered. The truth was that she really only started to move more freely the last couple of days, so it wasn’t realistic that we do too much. But to cheer her up, I did promise that, at the end of the week, I would take her on a date.

“Well, where are we going?” Her brown eyes hold a sparkle in their depths that reminds me of our dates in Florence.

“I’ve booked us a table at my brother’s restaurant.”

“Ooh, fancy. Although, I’ll probably have to wear clothing that covers me from neck to toe so I don’t scare his customers away,” she jokes.

I’m glad she can now joke about her injuries, because when I see the marks on her body, I’m filled with a need to dish up another dose of justice to Brad and his accomplice. After Ryan had finished with the guy who hit Tori, he’d left him with my cousin’s associates, who made it very clear that if he or Brad ever set foot in the city again, they wouldn’t be walking out next time.

“You’d be gorgeous in anything.” I kiss her lips lightly, but Tori being Tori, she pulls me closer, her mouth demanding more.

When we’re both breathless, we draw apart. “After dinner”—she draws a circle on my chest—“will you make love to me, please?”

I’ve been deliberately keeping our touches sweet while her body heals. “But I don’t want to hurt you.”

The eye roll she gives me is cute.

“If you don’t, I might have to hurt you,” she threatens with a cheeky glint in her eye. “Are you forgetting my black belt?”

“Never. In fact, I think I might like you putting me into an arm lock or leg lock.”

“Is this another of your kinks?”

“Who said I had kinks?”

“Mr. Barbieri, anyone who is an owner of a private sex club is bound to have one or two.”

Chuckling, I brush another kiss across her lips. “A very good point.”

“So?” she questions, not accepting my obvious nonanswer.

“So … Ms. Jones, you are just going to have to wait to find out. Until then, I will thrill you with my seduction techniques and make love to you tonight after dinner.”

“Do we have to wait?” Her pout is almost as cute as the earlier eye roll.

“Yes, my bella.” I brush her silky brown waves over her shoulder and drop a kiss on her shoulder. “ Ti amo .”

Her soft moan as I sprinkle kisses up her neck tests my restraint, but when she whispers, “Damn, it’s hard to resist when you speak Italian. Ti amo , Gio,” while blinking up at me, any hope of holding on to it disintegrates.

And I carefully begin to show my bella exactly how much I love her.