10. Gabriel

10

GAbrIEL

T he next morning, the household wakes up slowly. It's Bella's day off, but she still comes down just as we're finishing up breakfast, still in leggings and a long t-shirt with her hair piled atop her head. Even like that, freshly out of bed, the sight of her still makes my heart beat oddly in my chest.

Yesterday, I could hardly keep my hands off of her. It was a good thing we weren't alone by the lake, or I'm not sure I could have stopped myself from kissing her. Only the possibility of Cecelia and Danny seeing, and having questions I'm not ready to answer, kept me from doing just that.

Damn, the agreement we made. Damn the consequences. Every day that passes here with her, since I got her back from Igor's clutches and brought her to Italy with me, makes me want to throw caution to the wind and tell her that I want her. That I don't care that we agreed to only one night. The possibility of losing her hangs heavily over me, but all it's done since I got her onto that jet is make me feel almost frantic with the need to have her in my arms again.

I need to focus on keeping her safe. On keeping all of us safe. It's harder to do that if my mind is clouded with other things, preoccupied with thoughts of what I want to be doing with her, to her, every moment of the day. But it's almost impossible to push those thoughts aside.

"We're going into town," I tell her as she sits down at the table and reaches out to scoop fruit salad into a bowl. "If you want to come too, we're going to do some shopping. We need more supplies for the house, groceries, things like that."

"That sounds nice." Bella pokes at a slice of orange with her fork. "I could use some more warm-weather clothes. And I'd like to see the town." Even as she says it, there's a worried look on her face, that small line between her eyes that tells me she's tense. I don't need to ask to know what it is that she's worried about.

She still has that look when she comes back downstairs, dressed now in a pretty yellow maxi dress printed with paisley and white daisies. She's not wearing anything to cover her shoulders and arms, and my pulse beats faster at the sight of her sharp collarbones under the thin straps, the curve of her shoulders that makes my fingers itch to slide over them. Her hair is loose, the front braided back and pinned, and I remember all too clearly how soft it felt against my hands, how it felt trailing over my skin.

A rush of blood south makes me abruptly try to turn my thoughts in a different direction. But Bella has this effect on me, whenever she's close. I can smell the sweet scent of her soap, warm on her skin, and my heart trips in my chest when I see that she's wearing those thin, dangling chain earrings that sweep along the column of her neck.

I shove my hands into my pockets as I watch her descend the stairs, trying not to imagine how it would feel to trace that same line with my fingertips, to feel her skin prickle under my touch. To cup the back of her neck in my palm, and?—

"Are you ready to go?" Bella asks, the worried look on her face softening a little into a small smile as she sees me standing there. "Cecelia and Danny will be down in just a second."

I nod, clearing my throat. "The car is waiting outside. We'll take the Land Rover; I want to drive it as much as possible."

Bella doesn't ask why, which I'm grateful for—I don't want to say that it's because it'll most likely be sold along with the rest of the estate once I find a buyer. I've considered shipping it home to New York, but a part of me thinks that I need to let all of this go. That it's best to just unload all of this history at once, rather than clinging to small parts of the past. Keeping one thing will only make me regret letting go of the rest.

"What about—" Her voice catches, and that line between her eyes deepens. "Is it safe to go into town? Especially in something that—indefensible?"

"I don't have bulletproof SUVs here, Bella." I don't have them at home, either, but I instantly regret the glib statement when I see her eyes flicker with fear. "Gio is keeping me updated on the situation at home," I continue gently, stepping closer to her so that I can speak quietly and still be heard. "Right now, there's nothing to fear. Igor has made no moves that we're aware of. And we have ample security here."

"That can't be true." She pitches her voice low, too, and I can hear the fear threading through it. It makes my chest ache. I want nothing more than to dispel that fear, to make her believe that everything is truly going to be alright. I want her to trust that I can protect her. That I will never, ever allow anyone to hurt her again.

I have every intention of doing just that. But some things are beyond my power, and Bella knows that. It's why even as close as we're standing right now, there's still distance between us.

"Igor isn't going to just let me go," she continues, that fear pulsing through every word. "If your men haven't found any signs that he's preparing to move, it's because he's hiding whatever he's planning. He's going to find me, Gabriel, you know he will?—"

"And if he does, I'll stop him before anything happens to you." I curl my hands into fists, to keep myself from reaching for her, from sliding my palms over her arms, pulling her close to me. It feels like the pull of a magnet, like it's nearly impossible to stop. "He's not here yet. I have men watching for him. Checking flight logs, watching for private flights. Keeping watch still on his mansion back in New York for signs of him coming and going. I have men looking into his connections, asking questions. I'm taking it all seriously, Bella. And I promise you, today at least, there's nothing to fear. He's not here. No one is going to hurt you today."

And tomorrow? Or the day after? She doesn't say it aloud, but I can hear it anyway, in her tremulous, shaky voice. Not accusing, but afraid. The thought that I can't assuage her fear claws at me, makes me want to fight even harder to make her believe otherwise.

"There will be security following us today. Even if something were to happen, there will be men watching out for you, for all of us. But nothing will happen," I promise her, and for today, at least, I feel confident that it's a promise I can keep. "We'll be safe."

I can see on her face that she wants to believe me. That she needs this as much as I do—more, probably. A time where we're not afraid, where we can simply be . I took us far away from New York so that could be a possibility. But nowhere is far enough for Igor to not be a looming threat, for Bella most of all.

The clattering of feet behind her heralds Cecelia and Danny running down the stairs, and her face smooths in an instant, betraying none of the fear and uncertainty that was there a moment ago. She takes a breath, a smile on her face as she turns towards them. "Are you ready?" she asks, her voice bright as if it wasn't just shaking a moment ago. "I'm excited to see a new town, aren't you?"

Watching her with them always warms me from the inside out. Bella is technically not working today, so she doesn't have to be responsible for them, but it comes naturally to her. It seems effortless, the way she checks to make sure they both have everything they need, that Danny's shoes are tied, that Cecelia's ribbons in the braids she put her hair in are straight. She herds them towards the door as we walk outside, and that ache in my chest returns, that feeling that I want to keep her with us forever. Bella has become a natural part of our family, and I don't want to lose her for more reasons than one.

I push the thought out of my head as she gets Cecelia and Danny into the car, climbing up into the passenger's seat as I open the door for her. Every small movement she makes catches my eye, from the way she tucks the long skirt of her dress around her legs to her fingers brushing a loose piece of hair out of her face. It takes everything in me not to reach out for her hand or to put mine on her thigh as we reach the main road, and I shift the car into the final gear.

It's a beautiful day, sunny and bright, with a blue sky almost completely devoid of clouds, perfect for the forty-five-minute drive into town. Bella looks out towards the passing scenery for the whole of the trip, never at me, and I can't help but wonder what she's thinking. Behind me, I hear Cecelia and Danny exclaim as we pass pastures with horses and sheep, the occasional donkey grazing along with them. They're not used to seeing this much livestock, only the occasional passing farm in upstate New York, and their excitement is palpable. But Bella is silent, her hands curled in her lap, her gaze fixed on the window as the landscape rolls by.

I park the car near the main plaza. I see a small smile on Bella's lips as she slides out of the car and looks around, and it lifts my spirits. Her gaze sweeps over what we can see of the town, and I circle around to her, glancing in the same direction.

"It's a sleepy little place," I murmur. It's what would be considered busy today, plenty of people out on the sidewalks and sitting outside at the few cafes, but compared to the bustle of New York, it's nothing. I know that's what Bella's thinking, as Cecelia and Danny slide out of the car and join us.

"In ordinary circumstances—" she lets out a breath, surveying the plaza again. "This would be a nice place to have children. Less scary than New York can be. They could have a lot more freedom."

The wistful tone of her voice startles me. Bella has never said anything about whether she does or doesn't want children of her own, only that she doesn't want to be forced into an arranged marriage by her father, where she'll be obliged to provide heirs for her husband. Truthfully, I don't think she knows for sure whether she does or not. But the way she says it only increases that ache that's settled in my chest, because it makes me think of what it would be like to raise those children with her. For her and I to have a family here, to add to the one that she's so seamlessly become a part of.

The thought of how that would come about tightens every part of my body, my blood suddenly thrumming with the ever-present desire for her.

"Can we go?" Cecelia asks in a high-pitched, frustrated voice that yanks me abruptly back down to earth. "I'm ready to go shopping."

Bella turns towards her, that small smile on her lips again. "It's not going to be anything like shopping in New York," she confides. "But we'll still find some fun things. And look how pretty it is." She gestures outwards with one hand, at the rustic shops with painted shutters and the tall stone church, the cafes with wrought-iron fenced patios, and the cobblestone plaza. "Nothing like what we have back home."

"I'm ready to explore," Cecelia declares, tugging on Bella's hand. Danny stays close to me, and we set off, armed with a list that Agnes gave me this morning of things needed for the house.

"You take them to look for clothes," I tell Bella, once we've stopped into a small coffeeshop for caffeine. "I need to check on one of the suppliers for the estate." The horses and other livestock we keep have an entire list of needs all to themselves. I want to find out what orders have been placed recently for that part of the operation, and get a better idea of what future buyers need to commit to. I also want to make sure I'm familiar with what suppliers we're using, so I can do my best to ensure they don't lose business when the estate changes hands. "I'll meet you at Pane e Vino ." I gesture towards a pretty cafe across the street, built of rough-edged stone with blue-painted shutters and bright flowers spilling across the edges.

"That sounds fine." Bella smiles at me, taking Cecelia and Danny by the hands. She hesitates for one second, as if she's not quite sure what to do before she leaves, and then turns to lead them in the direction of a different cluster of shops.

I would rather go with her. The desire to stick by her side stays with me, as I check in on feed suppliers and the shop where the estate places orders for wood, tools, and the supplies needed to keep the masonry in good repair. My thoughts keep drifting back to her, again and again, and by the time I've finished my rounds and start to walk towards the cafe where we'll meet for lunch, I feel anxious with the need to see her again. I feel certain of my promise that today is safe, but I didn't realize how little I wanted to let her out of my sight.

When I get to the Pane e Vino , Bella and the children already have a table outside in the sun. I join them, seeing that there are sparkling glasses of water already poured, Bella looks over a menu with Cecelia as she takes a sip from a glass of rosé.

My chest aches all over again. Everything about seeing her there with them is right. It feels right, down to my bones, beyond just the feelings of desire that I have for her. She belongs with us. I know that, as surely as I knew that I was getting in over my head from the first moment I touched her.

I sit down across from Bella, sliding one of the menus in front of me. "Where are all the bags?" I glance around, raising an eyebrow. "Don't tell me you didn't find anything."

"Oh, we found plenty," Bella says with a laugh. "All three of us got some new clothes. And a few other things, too. I took the bags back to the car while we were waiting on you."

The ease with which she says it, the familiarity, only increases that ache.

The server, an older woman with dark hair in a tight bun, brings us bread and a dish of olive oil as we look over the menu. Cecelia, ever the more adventurous eater in the family, tries a dish of anchovy spaghetti, while Bella orders a veal bolognese. Danny and I opt to share a pizza, and I order more wine, which Bella sips at. I raise an eyebrow when she pours a second glass, and she shrugs, laughing softly. It makes my heart beat faster, the moment I hear it.

"I'm technically off of work," she says teasingly. "So I think I'm allowed to have a second glass of wine, right?"

"You can do anything you want," I tell her, with a sincerity that makes her glance up at me, her expression faltering ever so slightly. But I mean it. I would let her do anything, give her anything, make anything that she wanted happen if I could. I'm gradually realizing, more and more, what Bella means to me. How much further these feelings that I have go, beyond simple physical lust.

I'm afraid to put a name to them. If I had to guess, I'd say that she is, too. But I can't be sure of anything about what she wants, with how fraught everything is around us.

The conversation turns to their shopping, to a shop full of trinkets that Cecelia took an interest in, and some of the other things they purchased. "We should get the groceries after this, right?" Bella asks. "And then head back?"

"I want gelato," Cecelia announces. "I saw a shop just across the street." She gestures, and I glance in the direction that she's pointing.

"Well, we'll get the groceries that Agnes put on the list, and then we'll get gelato right before we go home," I promise her. That seems to please her, and she turns back to her spaghetti, which I'm astonished that she likes. But I've yet to see a food that Cecelia won't eat—the exact opposite of Danny, who tends to be a picky eater.

The list that Agnes sent with me is long. Some things are grown or otherwise made on the estate—there's a lush garden for a great deal of vegetables, chickens for eggs, and goats that provide some milk and cheese. But there's plenty of other things that need to be purchased, and after lunch it takes us a good hour or more in the market to collect everything. Bella and I carry the bags back to the car, tucking them in the back before walking Cecelia and Danny across the street to the gelato shop.

The shop is small and quaint, built of pretty cream-colored stone with a multicolored stone path outside, and black shutters on the windows. Inside, it smells heavily of sugar, and we pause at the back of the line, looking at the menu.

"The chocolate almond sounds good," Bella murmurs. I can feel the tension wafting off of her, and I have a feeling that it's the crowd of people inside a small space.

"Wait over by the window," I say softly, gesturing towards a long granite bar that runs along the back wall, with dark wooden stools next to it. A few people are eating their gelato there, but most are at tables or outside. "I'll take the kids up to get theirs."

Bella shoots me a grateful look, retreating back to the spot I pointed out. I take Cecelia and Danny up to the counter, where they both want to try flavor after flavor. "It's time to pick one," I tell them both after the fifth or so taste-test, and Cecelia picks the strawberry and sweet cream. Danny, after a few more moments of deliberation, picks the cookie crumble.

As they're trying to make up their minds, I glance back towards where I left Bella, and my stomach instantly twists as I see that she's talking to someone—and who it is.

It's not anyone I know personally. But the man who has perched himself on a stool next to her—or rather, is casually leaning up against it—makes me seethe with a sudden, unexpected jealousy the moment I see him. He's young, likely close to Bella's age, and handsome, with an aquiline nose and curly dark hair, skin deeply tanned from time out in the sun. He laughs at something she says in return, white teeth flashing, and when she smiles back—even though it's faint—my stomach twists again with a sickening feeling.

I can't really tell if she's flirting with him or not, but it's clear that he's flirting with her . And just the fact that she doesn't seem to have immediately shut him down is enough to make my chest tighten and my blood heat with jealousy that I don't deserve to feel.

"Daddy?" Cecelia taps my arm, and I realize that I've been staring at Bella and the young man for too long. I turn away, taking the small cups and handing one to each of them, before picking up Bella's and mine.

She's still talking to the young man when I go to walk over towards her. That jealousy burns through me again, especially when she seems to jump a little at the click of my footsteps against the tile near her, almost as if she feels guilty of something.

"We should head back." I don't dare look at the younger man; if I do, I'll end up glaring at him in a way that I don't have any right to. Bella isn't mine, not in any way that precludes her from talking to him, but the possessive feeling that sweeps through me says otherwise. And I can't seem to force it back, even though I know I should.

She looks at me, and I can't entirely read what's on her face. I can't tell if she can see my jealousy, how much it burns to see another man talking to her.

Bella nods, taking the cup of gelato from me. She glances at mine. "You got chocolate, too."

I feel the man looking at us both, as if trying to determine who we are to each other. Before Bella can look back at him, he pushes himself away from the stool, walking away. Next to us, oblivious to the tension, Cecelia and Danny are happily digging into their cups of gelato.

"You're right." Bella's voice is cool. "We should get back, before it's dark."

We walk back to the car. Bella nibbles at her gelato as we go, saying nothing, and I can't shake the tension that seeped through me at the sight of that small flirtation. Even once we're in the car and back on the road to the estate, I still feel as if every one of my muscles is strung tight, that possessive jealousy flaring to life every time I remember her laughing at something he said.

For as long as there's been something between Bella and me, I've known there would eventually be someone else.

I just hadn't realized how hard it would be to see it for myself.