His jaw tightens. “I shouldn’t have left you alone. Not until I’d found Marrone.”

  “Nobody could have guessed that he’d enter Irish territory. You can’t blame yourself for what one crazy person did. Enzo and I are safe now. Val is dead, and he won’t hurt me, or anyone else, ever again. That’s the only thing that matters.”

  I lean forward and press a soft kiss to his lips.

  “I don’t know what I would have done if something happened to you,” he says in a gruff whisper, pressing his forehead against mine. He breathes out slowly. “I love you, Lucia.”

  The final piece of wall around my heart falls, leaving a broken organ behind. Pain stabs me in the chest for what I have to do. Don’t think about that right now.

  “I love you, too.”

  Chapter 28

  Nathan

  * * *

  Lucia’s grown more distant since she was taken. The laughter that had become more frequent has disappeared again. We’ve made love several times in the last week, but she’s still pulling away emotionally, and nothing I’ve done is bringing her back. I’ve tried giving her space. I’ve tried talking to her. I’ve even resorted to calling Rory and begging for help. Nothing is working. I only have myself to blame.

  Jack told me Emilio had called him to see how Lucia’s been doing. He’d been the one to let the Italians know she was safe and that it had been Val who’d killed Michele all those years ago. I’m not sure when I’ll be ready to speak to my brother-in-law again, so the tension remains between us. No doubt the severe punishment Edoardo received was an attempt to try and make some sort of amends. It’s going to take a lot more than him losing a few fingers to appease me. Lucia and Enzo could have died.

  “Have you talked to Rory?” I ask while we sit in the dining room eating dinner Jack had brought over from Donnelly’s. The whole family has been great about keeping us fed, since Lucia hasn’t wanted to leave the house.

  “I’ll call her tomorrow. I just haven’t felt up to talking to anyone,” she says picking at her plate.

  I wish she would talk to me. It’s obvious she’s still struggling with what happened. Enzo seems to have bounced back for the most part, although, he’s a bit withdrawn at times and extremely clingy. He hasn’t let Lucia out of his sight, nor she him, except when they’re sleeping. Even then, she’s left our bed several times through the night to check on him. One time, he even crawled into bed with us.

  We finish dinner and silently clean up the kitchen before heading into the den. I open my mouth multiple times, needing to say…something, but can’t find the right words. While Lucia starts our new nightly ritual of setting Enzo up with his drawing supplies, I move to the bar and pour myself a whiskey—which I’m learning to appreciate more—and Lucia a vodka tonic. I’ve been stocking tonic water and lime just for her.

  Grabbing the remote, I turn on the TV, leaving the volume low. Lucia’s already seated on the couch. She takes the glass, and I drop down next to her. To my surprise, she sets the untouched drink on the coffee table and pivots sideways to face me. She clasps her hands so tightly together in her lap the knuckles whiten and stares down at them. There’s an increased hesitancy I’ve never witnessed from her. I’m not a fan, because this isn’t my Lucia.

  I place my drink next to hers and with two fingers under her chin, tip her head up. “What’s wrong?”

  She inhales deeply and blows it out. “I’m going back to London.”

  Her words punch me straight in the gut. My arm drops to my side. “You mean, for good?”

  She nods jerkily. I deflate back into the couch. “I see.”

  No, I don’t actually.

  Lucia finally loosens the death grip she’s had on her fingers and grips my arm.

  “After what happened, I can’t stay here anymore. Every time I close my eyes I see Val pointing that gun at Enzo. He could be dead right now.” Her voice cracks. “I’ve never been so terrified in my entire life. I keep remembering all the reasons I left Brooklyn in the first place. The reasons I stayed away. To get away from the violence. To keep him safe. I don’t want to raise my son—our son—around that. I’m too afraid of what it might do to him.”

  “What does that mean for us?” I ask, still reeling.

  Her shoulders sag. “I don’t know. I love you, Nathan. I do. More than I thought possible. I don’t want to lose you, but I also have to protect Enzo. At least as much as I’m able. I don’t ever want to feel that helpless ever again.”

  The sad fact is, I get it. “We’ll figure it out. Make this thing—make us—work somehow. Even if we have to do it from a distance for a while. I’m not giving either of you up, so we’ll do whatever we have to do.”

  Lucia climbs sideways into my lap, loops her arms around my neck, and leans onto my shoulder. I circle her waist and hold her close.

  “When do you leave?”

  “Tomorrow,” she says softly. “I’ve already talked to my boss and I start back to work the beginning of next week.”

  I wince. So soon. “Then we better not waste a single second of the time we have left together.”

  Lucia slides off my lap and curls into my side. We stay cuddled together on the couch, watching TV, long after Enzo climbs up to join us. He falls asleep with his head on my thigh. The movie finally ends and Lucia stands. Carefully, I slide out from underneath my son and lift him in my arms.

  “I’ll help you tuck him in,” I tell her.

  We shut out all the lights, climb the stairs until we reach Paddy’s room. I lay Enzo down and pull the covers up to his chin. He’s so relaxed and at peace. I bend down and brush a kiss over his forehead. Lucia does the same.

  We walk up the stairs to the next floor and into my bedroom. Neither of us speak. It’s as though if we do, then her leaving is real. Wordlessly, I undress her, kissing my way down her body. Her fingers spear my hair as I lash my tongue over her clit. Her cries fill the air. I slip a finger inside her wet pussy and don’t stop tormenting her until she comes, shuddering in my arms.

  I scoop her up and then lower her to the bed. In seconds, I’m naked as well. I cover her body with mine and spend the rest of the night making love to her, telling her with every kiss and every touch how much I love her. Finally, in the early morning hours right before dusk, we drift off to sleep, our bodies still connected.

  Once again, I’m pulling into the traffic-laden airport garage at JFK. Enzo, who up until a week ago had been chatty and animated, has remained quiet nearly the whole drive here. No doubt he can tell that something is going on with all the tension, but doesn’t know or understand what. Lucia and I have barely spoken either.

  How am I supposed to make conversation, when the woman who owns me, heart and soul, is leaving? I love her too much to not let her go though. She’ll be miserable here and that misery can only grow into resentment. I won’t let it happen. It may take me a while, but I’ll figure out a way for this to work. There’s a solution to every problem.

  “We always seem to find ourselves in this place, don’t we? Maybe I should rent out a parking space if I’m going to keep coming back. And I know just which one I’d pick.” I say trying to lighten the mood.

  Lucia’s lips twitch, but it only lasts for a second. I circle each level, keeping an eye out for an empty spot. They’re all full, until finally, the number of cars thins and I locate one. I pull in and we both exit the vehicle. While Lucia gets Enzo out of the back seat of the Mercedes I finally got back from the O’Callahan’s body shop, I grab both of her bags from the trunk. Then I detach the car seat.

  We make our way to the check in counter, get her bags squared, and then walk to security. Just before we get to the entrance of the cordoned off line, I stop her.

  “Call me when you land and when you get home.”

  “I will,” Lucia says.

  “I’m going to call you every day. And I’ll come see you in a few weeks,” I promise. “We’ll make this work.”

  She nods.

  “Da.” Enzo leans forward with outstretched arms.

  Shock holds me immobile until he clutches my shirt. I glance at Lucia, whose eyes glisten with tears, and take him from her. It’s the first time my son has called me Da. A weight lands on my chest and a lump forms in my throat. Jesus, I’m not sure I’ve ever had anything hurt this bad. Not the number of times I’ve been shot. Not even when Eoin was killed. This pain is a whole new level. It’s like I’m being stabbed right in the heart.

  I hug Enzo tightly to me, breathing in his scent. Swallowing down the rocks scraping the inside of my throat, I lean back and brush his hair off his forehead.

  “You be a good boy for your mama. I’ll see you real soon. I love you.” Unable to say anything more or risk losing it, I kiss his cheek and then return him to Lucia, who’s openly crying.

  She settles him back on her hip with a sniff and wipes away her tears. Enzo’s confused gaze bounces between her and me. I pull them both into my arms.

  “I fucking love you,” I growl into her ear.

  Lucia lets loose a low sob. “I love you, too.”

  Minutes or hours pass while we stand there holding each other, until finally I release them. She grabs the handle of her carry-on and enters the security line. I stand there as she weaves back and forth, moving farther and farther away from me.

  I’m still standing there long after they’re gone.

  Chapter 29

  Lucia

  * * *

  I miss Nathan.

  I’ve missed him every waking moment for the last two months. It doesn’t matter that we talk every day. It doesn’t matter that he came to visit for a week only a few weeks ago. I miss him. Enzo misses him. At the time, moving back here had been the right decision. It still is. But I’ve never been more miserable in my entire life.

  Nathan hasn’t called yet either. I’ve been sitting on the couch, trying—and failing—to read the latest article on a new archeological dig the Historical Society is spearheading while Enzo naps. I glance at the clock. He always calls by this time. Has he decided that this is too much? That a long-distance relationship just isn’t going to work. It’s been much harder than I expected. I don’t get to spend my evenings with him. I don’t get to sit while he and Enzo play and draw together, although Nathan had certainly been right about his lack of talent. My lips curl with the memory of his last attempt at drawing. It had been completely unrecognizable as the dog he claimed it was.

  Most importantly, though, I don’t get to fall asleep in his arms after we make love.

  The special ringtone I picked for Nathan’s calls blasts from my phone, making me jump. Snatching it up from the arm rest, I swipe my finger to accept the call, and jerk it up to my ear.

  “Hello?” I say, breathless.

  “Hello, beautiful,” he greets me in the tone that always makes my toes curl. “Sorry I’m late. It’s been a long day.”

  I chuckle. “It’s still late-morning there. What have you been doing?”

  “This and that,” he prevaricates. “Are you doing okay?”

  “I miss you,” I admit.

  “You won’t have to miss me for long. And, you should probably answer your door, by the way.”

  “My door?” I ask before my brain processes his previous statement.

  Two hard knocks hit the wood. I glance over at it in confusion. Then it’s like a lock clicks in place. My heart skips and that giddy explosion that comes with excitement dances around in my belly. “Nathan?” I whisper.

  With the phone still at my ear, I slowly climb to my feet and cross the hardwood flood until I stop in front of the wooden barrier, still not believing what my mind is telling me. I turn the bolt and carefully open the door. Tears well.

  Standing there, with his messy red hair and ocean blue eyes and two giant suitcases on the floor at his feet, is Nathan.

  I cover my mouth, whimper with relief, and launch myself at him. Arms around his neck and legs around his waist, I cling to him like a spider monkey. He palms my ass and I plaster kisses all over his gorgeous face.

  “You’re here.” Kiss. “Oh my god, you’re really here.” Kiss.

  His chuckle vibrates through my chest straight to my pussy still pressed against his stomach. “Yes, I’m really here.”

  I drop to the ground and cradle his face. My lips turn down in playful annoyance. “I can’t believe you didn’t tell me you were coming. I would have met you.”

  “I wanted it to be a surprise. There were a few loose ends I needed to tie up at home before I came,” he says.

  Stepping back, I wave him in. “I’m so happy you’re here.”

  He grabs one of his suitcases while I reach for the other, but he stops me. “I’ll get it, babe. It’s heavy.”

  I glare at him fisting my hips. “I’m perfectly capable of bringing in a suitcase no matter how heavy it is.”

  “All right, all right.” He steps past me with a quick kiss. “I forget how independent you like to be.”

  In seconds, I’ve got his bag inside the door and close it behind me. Then I drag him over to the couch, pushing my forgotten newspaper to the other end and tug him down to sit next to me.

  “What are you doing here?” I ask. “Not that I’m not happy to see you, because I am. I’m so happy.”

  “I’m moving to London—moved to London,” he says with a cheeky grin.

  I gape in stunned silence. “What? When? Seriously?”

  He nods with a little laugh. “Yep. I pick up the keys to my new apartment—my flat—tomorrow. All my furniture and things should be arriving by air freight in the next few days. Then I just have to wait until customs clears the cargo so I can schedule its delivery.”

  “Oh my god, this is insane. I can’t believe you moved to London.” I throw myself against him, hugging him hard, and then pull back to stare at him. “You know you’re staying here until you can get all settled in your new place, right?”

  Nathan smirks. “I didn’t want to presume.”

  Wait. I sit back on my heels. “What did your parents’ say about you moving here? I’ve never heard of someone from the syndicate being able to just up and move halfway across the planet. Even Emilio was only gone temporarily. Oh, god, no one’s going to come after you for defecting are they?”

  “Defecting?” he sputters. “I’m not some former agent trying to escape to another country. I’m going to work for my uncle in acquisitions. Bringing in certain items we can only get from a few different countries.”

  I smack him on the arm. “How am I supposed to know how these things work? I’m just a lowly woman who certainly isn’t privy to the operations of the organization.”

  Nathan snags me around the waist and tugs me against his chest, leaving me breathless and staring down at him. His free hand palms the back of my neck and he draws me down so we’re nose-to-nose. “You are anything but lowly.”

  He leans up and our mouths meet in a kiss. It’s like coming home. I part my lips and his tongue sweeps in to take control. My fingers clutch at the fabric of his shirt. Passion flares. I press myself harder against him, needing more.

  “Da,” a sleepy voice intrudes on the private moment.

  Nathan and I reluctantly break apart.

  “Da. You back.” The name is an ecstatic cry as Enzo runs over, his tiny legs kicking as fast as they can go.

  He collides into his father’s outstretched arms and Nathan lifts him up to join us on the couch. The two hug each other until Enzo sits back and starts chattering about this and that, half of which is unintelligible. He’s so excited and animated with the story it doesn’t matter we can’t understand half of it.

  Nathan and I share a meaningful glance, my lips pulling at the side trying to hold back my laughter. This is going to be our life for a while. Interruptions at inopportune times.

  But I wouldn’t change any of it for the world.

  I lazily draw designs on Nathan’s naked chest with my fingertip as we lie next to each other. The minute Enzo fell asleep, we disappeared into my bedroom, barely getting the door closed before we tore each other’s clothes off and tumbled into bed. It was a quick and dirty fuck, getting weeks of celibacy out of our system.

  “If I’m dreaming, I hope I don’t wake up,” I tell him, pressing a kiss to his exposed skin.

  “I promise you’re not dreaming. This is real. I’m real.”

  Blowing out a contented sigh, I tilt my chin back to glance up at him. “I love you.”

  “I love you, too.” He rubs his fingers up and down my arm. “I should probably tell you something, though.”

  The hesitancy in those words makes me prop my elbow up and lay my head in my hand. “That sounds ominous.”

  “Just hear me out before you say anything, okay?”

  I slowly sit up, tugging the sheet up under my armpits keeping my breasts covered. Nathan scoots to sit at the head of the bed. I remain close-lipped, waiting.

  “Nothing may come of it, but I might have contacted the director of the National Museum of Ireland and mentioned your name,” he confesses.

  “You did what?” Confusion colors my tone.

  “Part of why you love working at the British Museum is because of the history, right? There’s a world-class archeology division in Ireland, although granted, it’s significantly smaller than the one you have here. I just thought, maybe, we could settle over there. In Dublin. Be close to family,” Nathan explains with a small shoulder rise. “I’d still continue in my new role in acquisitions, so that won’t change. Like I said, it may not turn into anything.”

  I should be angry that he went behind my back. Yet, a part of me—the part that sometimes wishes I weren’t so overwhelmed at work—gives pause to any objections. Nathan giving my name to the directors doesn’t necessarily mean they’re even going to call. It could be a total non-issue.