Chapter 19

Maria

Possessive.

Dominating.

Exciting.

I was suddenly drifted into a heavy fog, uncertain about anything I'd heard, read, or seen about the man. He'd managed to sweep me off my feet so to speak, the roar of ecstasy still racing through my blood. But overhearing him talking about killing people left another bitter taste in my mouth. How could he be so cavalier about eliminating lives?

"You seem confused." His deep voice managed to penetrate my whacked brain after a few seconds.

"What?"

Chuckling, he shook his head. "I said you seem confused."

Daniel had no idea just how confused I was. I'd been led to believe he was a terrible person through and through. Then I'd seen an entirely different side of him. Then I'd overheard his longing for savagery. I wasn't certain what to believe any longer.

Certainly what I'd found on the internet could corroborate his wretchedness and would have if it hadn't been for the philanthropic aspects of his business. I hadn't wanted to believe he'd donated thousands of dollars to animal shelters, but watching the way he loved on the two horses he'd selected for our ride had allowed me to see another layer under his thick armor of steel.

This man I could like.

The other I wanted to hate.

Together, the need was explosive and something I couldn't ignore or deny.

That scared me to death.

"Not confused. Just… surprised."

He laughed as he headed toward the wall of saddles, grabbing one for the larger of the two horses. He'd taken my comment about the ranch to heart, determined to show me that he wasn't just a pretty boy underneath his masculine physique. I had to admit, I found him sexier than ever with his slightly tousled hair and the fact he'd yet to shave.

There was such a ruggedness about him that maybe I hadn't really paid enough attention to.

"Well, it's good I can still surprise someone," he answered, easily tossing the saddle on the horse's back. The gorgeous steed whinnied seconds later, tossing his head up and down. "There could always be more since things aren't always as they seem."

He had no idea how truthful that statement was.

"Are we going to have your men following us? Their weapons fully drawn in case of a random attack?" I truly wanted to know.

"I assure you I can handle anyone who dares step foot on my property. I make it my point to keep my whereabouts as secret as possible."

"You aren't exactly hiding, you know. You're larger than life, a big man on campus, a powerful entrepreneurial spirit."

"Why, lovely Maria. If I didn't know better, I'd say you were starting to like being married to an asshole like me. Truly American expressions. Interesting."

I shrugged, glaring at the man who seemed to wear a constant expression of amusement around me. "I do watch American television and don't fool yourself. We still aren't friends. I don't think you know how to be friends with anyone, except maybe your brother."

"You have an excellent point. However, it's more about not wanting to risk anyone's life who gets close to me."

"Except your wife."

He exhaled slowly. "A man does have needs. And as I said before, I can handle almost any altercation."

"That sounds like you've been attacked several times. Is that why your body is riddled with scars?"

"I'm flattered you noticed. Yes, that's partially why, although there were a couple incidents where the scars and wounds were inflicted by roughhousing. Constantine and I were always scrapping about something."

"Scrapping. That's a word."

He laughed, the sound sending another wave of butterflies into my system. "I can be verbose. Come on. No one is going to hurt you. We can enjoy a ride."

"Does that mean you're carrying a weapon with you?" I watched how he gently tightened the straps, patting the horse on the flanks before grabbing a pair of work gloves from the back pocket of his jeans. He was entirely different today, even the way he sauntered toward me as if the mafia man had faded away, a cowboy appearing in his place while I'd slept.

The fact he hadn't locked me in had shocked me more than I wanted to accept. The door had been ajar, the first thing I'd noticed after awakening. Well, the second. The first was that I'd automatically rolled over, extending my arm across the other pillow as if searching for him was a natural thing to do.

"I think you know that answer," he said, grinning as if I was teasing him. Maybe the real Maria had been used to going everywhere under guarded protection or carried a weapon in her purse at all times. I'd never held a weapon in my hand in my life. "Are you ready to go riding?"

Shuddering, I glanced at the beautiful mare, who hadn't taken her eyes off me. "I think so."

"Don't be scared. Belle won't hurt you."

"I'm not scared of Belle. Only of you."

"Good. You should be scared." Everything that came out of his mouth today was more of a tease than it had been before. "Come on. Let me help you."

"I don't need any help." I strutted toward Belle, grabbing the reins and planting my tennis-shoed foot in the saddle. Of course, when I tried to pull myself up, I failed miserably.

He laughed from behind me, thoroughly amused at my attempt at arrogance. Without asking a second time, he boosted me onto the massive animal. "You're very hardheaded."

"That's something my mother used to tell me all the time."

"I'm certain she did." Only when I was secure did he head to his horse, easily sliding his leg over the stallion's back.

He walked us from the barn through the open gate, one of the men who worked for him closing it afterward. "I have a few beautiful spots I want to show you."

"I'm eager to see them through your eyes."

"They might be jaded."

"I don't know about that. I think they're pretty dynamic."

The way he threw a glance over his shoulder was far too sexy, giving me another wave of quivers. We rode in silence for several minutes before he started pointing out various aspects of his ranch, including being proud of a barn he'd built years before with his own hands. We chatted about nothing, just food and several locations he'd visited that were his favorite places to go. I found myself enjoying the light banter more than I thought I would, answering his trivial questions about my favorite movies and what I liked on my pizza.

The best part about our hour or so spent together was that I was allowed to be the real me, not hiding behind a fa?ade of a fashionable girl from Italy. When I noticed his face had turned somber, I could tell he had something on his mind.

"Tell me more about your mother. Are you close? Do you have a favorite memory?" The questions seemed odd coming from him, but I didn't sense he was grilling me, just curious. Maybe there was more anger toward his father than I'd realized.

"Close? Somewhat, although she was forced to be prim and proper around my father, especially in front of his clients." That part had been told to me specifically and I'd seen it in action during the few times I'd interacted with Giovanni and Maria's mother, Lucia. They were the perfect, stilted couple, but Lucia's eyes had been haunted the entire time. I'd initially believed the reason was her daughter's condition, but by the end of the time I'd spent with them, I'd sensed the reality was much worse. "But we had our times together." I thought of my real mother and tried to keep the sadness from my voice.

"Tell me more."

I did, trying to remain on script even though the agony was building. I missed her desperately.

He didn't say anything, just listened intently.

When I was finished, I felt as if what I'd said was rushed. That's when I added a personal memory of my own from time spent with my real mother. "My favorite times were when it was just my mother and me in the house. We'd watch television, staying up all night long covered in blankets. It was a rare treat to have her all to myself. We used to giggle together, sharing popcorn. It was a magical time. Sadly, they were too infrequent."

"You love your mother very much."

"Yes, I do. She was my rock." All of it was true. "What about your dad? You acted as if you hate him."

"Not hate, really. Maybe when I was a kid. I'd been the good one, the kid who made straight A's while Constantine was the bad boy, something I'd wanted to emulate because he got all the attention."

"Classical sibling syndrome," I teased in return.

There was something just as joyous in his laugh as his passionate growls had been the night before. "Perhaps you're right. I never looked at it that way. I was jealous of the attention he received so I decided to mix things up a bit."

"Meaning what?"

"Meaning I challenged my father, telling him I was ready to handle aspects of his business. Up to that point, my sister and I had been completely excluded from a single activity or even a discussion about how he handled business."

"How old were you?"

"Eleven or so. I beat up a kid at school for bullying me. I was labeled a delinquent, my mother determined to use her faith and love to fix me. My father had other ideas. However, much to my mother's chagrin, my father decided to teach me a good lesson, one I'd never forget. He'd said if I was so intent on being a man then so be it."

He led us out of the immediate area of the estate, keeping a close eye on how I was handling my horse. He was also studying me more intently than he'd done before. It unnerved to think of why that might be. "That's far too young."

"But it hit home, which was what he was trying to do. My father never intended on introducing me to the business. He'd called me soft, even girlie."

"That's terrible and extremely sad. Why would your father do something like that? Because he was a bastard?"

"That's what my mom called him, but it took until long after I turned eighteen to realize the lesson was what I'd needed at the time."

"Now, you have me intrigued." And he did. "But it's still very sad in my opinion."

"We all survive with sadness in our lives, every single human being." He had a faraway look in his eyes.

"I suppose you could call that cathartic."

"A necessary evil."

"What did he do to bring about this change of heart?"

"Well, my father brought me into his office and explained the business we were in first, which was something he hadn't done before. Then he took me with him to handle a particular issue he was having with one of our customers. It was the first time I witnessed what he was capable of, the level of brutality that he'd tried to shield me from. The bloody experience was something I will never forget."

"My God. That's horrible."

"I was terrified when he handed me the knife he used, telling me to finish the job."

"Please don't tell me you did. Please."

"No, my lovely wife, I couldn't at the time. I was more like my mother than I'd realized, even after what I'd done to the bully, which my father had called child's play. But when forced to witness what really happened behind closed doors, I raced out of the room and the old warehouse, throwing up my guts on the sidewalk. I knew I'd humiliated him, the failure something he couldn't handle but I wasn't the kid I thought I was. Or maybe that I'd wanted to become."

I was terrified to ask what that was but by the look on his face, it had changed the boy into a man. "What did he do?"

"He acted as if I was no longer his son, shunning me for years. I did what I could to remain on the straight and narrow, getting the best grades and becoming a star quarterback at school, but nothing mattered to him because he considered me a failure."

"My God. I am so sorry you had to grow up that way."

"We all have our crosses to bear. Don't we?"

"Not like that. I don't know how you got over it."

"Well, years later I thought I was a big man not needing my parents, so I decided one day to move out without telling anyone. I was so angry that he'd all but disowned me, I went on a violent streak of my own, stealing money and a car, taking a joy ride that lasted for three days. Three days my mother was worried sick, my father sending every man he had out to look for me. I was certain he wouldn't give a shit, tossing me away like he did anyone who didn't live up to his standards. I'd been intent on living on the streets if necessary, but after a few cold nights, I was miserable and wanted to come home. So much for being a man. Huh?"

"You were a kid. Eighteen isn't grown up."

He rolled his eyes. "In my world, at fifteen you were considered a man. My brother had no issues."

"You're not your brother. Did you return home?"

"Nope. I was too stubborn, something you know about far too well." He grinned and took off trotting faster, forcing me to test my skills.

I managed to catch up with him only when he'd pulled his horse to a full stop. "You're a real arrogant bastard."

He grinned and it was as if I could melt into the man. "You like to keep telling me that."

"Which I plan on doing for as long as you are. Oh, wait. That will be your entire life. Now, finish the story."

"That's where the story takes a turn. My twin sister decided she would try and figure out where I'd gone. I was lucky to find her when I did, keeping her from being raped."

"Oh, God." I could tell he wasn't lying. "Was she hurt?" Memories of the time I'd been almost pushed into doing something I hadn't wanted to do floated into my mind, but the experience was tame in comparison.

"I stopped the worst of it, then sent her home so she wouldn't be forced to see my reaction."

"What did you do?"

There was such an elegant pause that I hadn't realized he'd stopped talking for almost a full minute.

"What I had to do, Maria. Protect her in the only way I knew how. I made sure he could never rape anyone again before I killed him. I tore him apart limb from limb, just like I will do to anyone who fucks with my family."