Chapter 6

Bianca

The next morning, I wake up with a delicious ache between my legs and Cain on top of me, laving at my breasts.

It's glorious. I truly can't imagine a better way of waking up for the rest of my life.

We spend the entire day in his suite, making love on every surface. We collapse onto the leather sofa, sweaty and satiated. I don't even realize how late it is until my stomach lets out a keening growl.

Leaning over me, Cain brushes sweat damp hair off my forehead. "My Little Lamb needs to eat something," he rumbles, his voice low and sexy.

A delighted tremor shimmies down my spine. His Little Lamb. Those words do something to me; bury themselves in my heart and warm me from the inside out.

"I know. As good as the eggs and toast were this morning, I might need something a little bigger for dinner. We worked up quite an appetite."

"I can order Italian," he says, already scrolling on his phone.

While he does that, I reach for my own phone, checking my texts. Still nothing from Olivia. My concern grows, gnawing at my gut and I tug my bottom lip between my teeth.

"What's wrong?" Cain asks, no doubt noticing my creased brows.

"I still haven't heard from my sister. She wasn't auctioned last night, was she?"

"I don't believe so," Cain says his thumbs flying across his keyboard on his phone. "Let me ask around."

"It's just so unlike her not to get back to me—" Before I can finish the thought, my phone screen goes black. Crap. The battery's dead and I forgot my charger. Well, forgot isn't the right word. I hadn't exactly planned on staying out for a full twenty-four hours…

Ohhhh. I bet Olivia doesn't have her charger either. Even though I don't know for sure she's okay, I feel slightly better knowing that's probably why she hasn't reached out.

Probably.

After another minute, Cain says, "She's okay. She's with Cole."

"With your brother? Why is she still with him?"

Cain's brows lift sky high. "I don't know, Little Lamb. Why are you still with me?"

Oh.

Ohhhhhh.

As the realization dawns on me, a giggle rises up my throat.

"What's so funny?" he presses.

"Just… my sister and I have both waited so long to have sex… and now we both lost our virginity on the same night!"

He cracks a little smile, too and leans forward, his fingers digging into my ribcage, making my giggle morph into belly trembling laughter. "Silly, little girl," he growls with a nip to my earlobe.

His tickles soften, shifting to stroke the swell of my breast, his thumb brushing the raw pearl of my nipple.

"I still can't believe I had sex before I ever had a first date," I say with a gasp.

Cain stills, his expression growing very serious. "You've never been taken out on a date before?"

I shake my head.

Cain is on his feet, lifting me into his arms in seconds flat. A squeal escapes me as he smacks his palm to my bum. "Where are we going?"

"We're changing that. Right fucking now."

The last twenty-fourhours have been utterly surreal.

I feel like a real life Cinderella, pulled out of the tiny bedroom I'd shared with my sister and away from my evil stepfather and placed in this beautiful dress at a five star dinner with the most handsome man I've ever seen.

Sure, my shoes might be Louboutin, not glass. And my fairy godmother is actually a sexy, burly Mafia Daddy… But I feel like a princess, all the same.

While my fingers nervously tug on the white linen napkin in my lap, I peruse the menu, half of which I can't read because it's in Italian. The words swim together and I don't recognize much, except maybe rigatoni. My sister is the linguistics genius… not me. Me, I've always been the artsy one. The one who wants to paint and dance and sing.

But right about now, I sure wish I had paid a little more attention when Olivia had been harping on about her various languages she was learning.

The violin music playing softly in the background is interrupted as our server greets us. "How are your first few sips?"

"Delicioso," Cain says.

I nod in agreement even though I haven't touched my prosecco.

"Bellisimo! Do you know what you would like to order?"

The server looks at me first and I clear my throat. "Um, I'll have the Pajata Rigatoni, please," I order.

Is it just me or does the server look surprised by my choice? "Ah, a traditional Italian delicacy. Good choice. And for you, Sir?"

I look over at Cain who's staring at me with an amused smirk. "I'll do the gnocchi as well as the chicken parmesan, please."

"Very good, Sir." The server collects our menus and scurries off.

"I never knew you were such an adventurous eater," Cain says, a teasing tone to his voice.

What the heck did I order?Does rigatoni mean something different in Italian? "I… can be," I say, not wanting to admit how clueless I am just yet. Casually, I bring the prosecco to my lips, trying to sip nonchalantly while glancing around at the other diners sitting around us to see if any of them have something that might look like rigatoni on their plates.

"Good," he says. "I hope you enjoy the small intestine. It truly is a delicacy in Italy."

The prosecco nearly flies out of my mouth and I just barely stop myself from doing a spit take. "What? You let me order that?"

"I thought you were an adventurous eater?" he teases me, blinking with faux innocence.

"Not that adventurous! What is it about rich people, anyway? It's like the richer you are, the grosser the food. Liver. Brains. Intestines. Fish eggs. Blech!"

Cain hides his smile behind the lip of his glass, but I am not having it. I search around his us, looking for our sever. "I'm serious! Get the server back here. No way am I eating small intestine on my first ever date."

Cain winks at me. "Relax, that's why I ordered two entrees. You can have either my gnocchi or the chicken parmesan. Whichever you prefer."

"You must really love me to share your food."

He grows serious, his fingers drifting up and down the stem of his wine glass. "I do."

Cain"s confession catches me off guard. We"ve only just met, yet his words feel sincere. His dark eyes gaze into mine as if peering into my soul.

"But before we get into all that, I need to know something."

I gulp, unnerved by this sudden shift. What could he possibly need to know from me? Am I not posh enough for him? Not worldly? Bring me that intestine… I'll eat the hell out of it if it'll prove I'm classy enough to be with Cain.

"Your stepfather," he starts, his tone growing darker by the second. "I need to know if he's ever touched you. Ever hurt you."

A little gasp chokes at the back of my throat and I shake my head vehemently. "No," I say. "I've been… lucky. He tried. Once. But my sister and I started setting up these booby traps in our bedroom after my mom's second third husband. He used to come into the bathroom and peek at us while we were showering."

It's one of the reasons we never complained about sharing a bedroom, even when we moved into Charlie's much bigger house with him and my mom. We liked the security of having each other sleeping nearby. And it was unnerving how ready and excited Charlie was at the idea of Mom's two adult daughters moving in with them.

I ignore the uneasy feeling that crawls down my spine like an army of ants and push the thought farther away.

A snarl escapes Cain's clenched teeth. "One thing at a time. What happened with Charles Montgomery?"

"He tried to come into our room one night, several months ago, but when he opened our door, it released the trigger on a paint gun which open fired on him. He was pissed, but he never tried anything again."

Until last night, at least.

He must have seen me sneak out of the house last night and followed me to the club. It's way too big a coincidence, otherwise. If he'd won the auction last night, he could have done whatever he'd wanted with me. The thought makes a shiver run through my body.

"It's already been harder and harder at home with Olivia gone so much. And she's going to be leaving for college soon." I gulp, the fear of being in that house alone with just him and my mom is too much.

"That's not your home," Cain growls.

I blink, looking up at him. "What?"

"That sorry excuse for a man… and that place are not your home anymore. I am your home." He pauses, both his expression and his voice softening at once.

"Do you mean that?"

He nods. "If you'll have me. I knew I wanted to keep you from the moment I saw you," he says softly. "Being with you just feels right, like our lives were always meant to intertwine."

My heart flutters at his words. I know it"s crazy, but somehow I feel the same way. Still, a small voice of doubt lingers in the back of my mind.

"How can you be so sure?" I ask. "We"ve only just met."

Cain reaches across the table and takes my hand in his. His touch sends a thrilling jolt of pleasure through me.

"When you meet your soulmate, you just know. All your life you"ve been waiting for that one person who completes you, and then suddenly they appear as if by fate."

My brows lift playfully. "Mob boss and Casanova," I tease him.

He glances over each shoulder before leaning in and whispering, "Be careful where you say that, Little Lamb."

As I gaze into his eyes, the restaurant around us seems to melt away. An electric current flows between us, like our souls are connecting.

"I"m falling for you, Bianca," Cain whispers. "I don"t know how or why, but you make me feel whole in a way I never dreamed possible for someone like me."

His words awaken something deep within me, a realization that I feel the same way. How is it possible to fall in love so quickly? Yet I know in my heart that what we have is real.

Tears well up in my eyes. I squeeze his hand, never wanting to let go.

"I feel it too," I confess softly. "I"ve never believed in love at first sight, yet from the moment our eyes met, it was like you already knew me. Like you could see into my soul."

Cain"s eyes light up at my words. "I love you so fucking much, Bianca. I might be your home… but you are my world now."

Tears of joy fill my eyes. The violin music swells around us, underscoring the magic of the moment. Here in this little Italian restaurant, halfway across the world from home, I"ve found the missing piece of my heart.

"I love you, Cain Romero."