- LUCIANO -
It was already going to be an impossible night for sleep being forced to stay two cabinas away from Rory, but now? After she said she loves and wants to marry ? It’s torture.
The trees look thicker and darker tonight, and I can’t help but glare out at any danger that might be willing to challenge . I’ll destroy everything, burn everything, to keep her.
The only reason I left with Dex is because tomorrow is a special day for him. And because my father actually put five guards around the girls’ cabina.
The phone rings with a call from Dom, and a jolt of adrenaline shoots straight through my heart with the instant thought that sothing’s wrong. By the ti I answer, I’ve already made it to the door.
"Talk to ," I manage to say.
"Everything’s fine, boss. The guys are just wondering what we do if one of the girls goes running off again."
"For the love of—" I groan, fingers clenched around the doorknob. My heart is now in my throat.
"Should I have texted?" Dom asks in his naturally gruff voice.
I’m so tangled up between panic and relief that all I can do is chuckle and lean against the door, fingers pressing into my eyes. How am I ever going to be away from Rory when this is how I react?
"No. Calling is fine," I say finally.
"Sonny thinks that if one of them runs off, we should tackle them. Obviously, I’m a smarter man and don’t agree."
"Nobody is tackling either of them," I growl. "Not unless you’re using your body to shield fucking gunfire. And then, by all ans. Tell Sonny I expect him to be the first one throwing himself in front of those bullets just for that suggestion."
Dom’s deep chuckle is what I hear in response. "Yes, boss."
I want to tell him there’s no way Rory or Raya will be running anywhere tonight, but who knows what will happen with these two? I’m definitely more concerned with soone actually trying to get into the cabina, though.
"Just follow if one of them runs. And obviously call ."
"Got it."
"Do not let anyone inside that cabina, Dom."
"What about their parents?"
"Especially not their parents. If Rory or Raya were to insist, you call first. Got it?"
"Yes, boss. Goodnight."
"Yeah," I say on a sigh, peering out through the door. A ghost of myself in the reflection looks back. "Goodnight."
While I’ve got the spike of adrenaline pumping through my veins, I send instructions back ho for retrieving Rory’s things from Dex’s guesthouse. I can’t wait to get out of this place and back ho where I can more easily guarantee her safety.
An hour goes by of pacing back and forth, checking my phone, glaring out into the night. Finally I take a seat back on the couch and let the checklist of everything we’re prepared for run through my thoughts to make sure there’s nothing I’ve overlooked.
I’m irritated that my father had to assert his authority at dinner, claiming that the sisters will be safe. He’s probably sleeping like a baby right now. I could have been, too... next to Rory. Instead, my thoughts are ticulously analyzing this situation for anything I might have missed.
And then it hits . The nightmares. How did Rory and I not think of that?
"Shit," I mumble.
Is she going to have another one since I’m not there with her? The only way I’ll know is if I’m in it with her. And that ans sleep.
With a heavy sigh, I lay back on the couch. How the hell am I going to force myself to fall asleep?
I try to imagine Rory curled next to . The familiarity of her shape when it fits so perfectly in my arms. The gentle, reliable rhythm of her heart under my touch.
"It’s only one night," I murmur, hand dropping over my eyes. "One night without you, tesoro."
—————
- RORY -
It’s such a beautiful day. Lush green hills roll below, and I’m admiring them from a summit. Saltwater is in the air. The ocean is close.
A gentle breeze sweeps hair over my bare shoulders and back, and I’m suddenly aware that I have no idea how I got here. Or where here is exactly.
With a quick glance down, I notice I’m in a beautiful lace dress... a wedding dress.
"Dolcezza?" Luciano’s voice from behind causes to turn, and there he is. Walking toward in a black tux.
"Luci." It’s a soft gasp, and then my mouth goes completely dry. This man. The tux makes him look sophisticated, powerful, dangerous, and so handso.
One step after another, he closes the space between us without taking his eyes off of and the very tight dress that is not allowing much leg movent. I look down again and realize it’s a rmaid cut with delicate flowers and vines that begin at the bust and trail down.
The intensity Luciano brings with him is electric. When I look back up at his dark, severe angles and powerful aura, that electricity passes right through and threatens to make my knees buckle.
"You look..." he shakes his head, searching for words, before settling on sothing in Italian. The reverent tone makes blush even though I don’t understand it.
"You too." I smile, glancing down quickly with a sudden surge of shyness. "But... what happened? Where are Raya and Dex?"
You’d think I would be looking around frantically for them since this is supposed to be their wedding day, but I can’t tear my eyes away from Luciano. I’m never making fun of how he dresses again.
"We’re dreaming," he says patiently, taking another step closer while his gaze drifts to my lips.
It’s so obvious. Of course we are. Why didn’t I think of that?
"But does that an... are you really here?" I ask, scrutinizing him, wondering if it’s truly him or a fignt of my imagination... or both. Who knows how this works?
"I’m really here." His voice is deep and reassuring. Then he touches , lifting my hand in his.
"I can feel you," I whisper, watching his lips coast over my fingers.
My hand isn’t hurt anymore. There are no stitches. And there’s a very prominent ring on my ring finger that Luciano is observing with a smirk.
"We did well choosing it," he says.
I pull my hand back and look. The oval stone in the center shifts between sparkles of purple, red, and blue depending on where the light hits. There are also five little marquise diamonds on each side that give it the appearance of a spiky flower.
"Dangerous and beautiful." Luciano’s black eyes lift to mine once again. "It looks like a rare flower, doesn’t it?"
The reminder of the night-blooming cactus makes smile. "Yes, it’s beautiful. But I prefer you."
"And I definitely prefer you," he chuckles.
Then he leans in, one hand finding my waist while the other slips into my hair, and kisses . It’s just as real as ever. The way his tongue rolls sensually over mine, the heat it delivers, the way it leaves wanting more.
"How do I know it’s really you?" I whisper, clutching his jacket like he might vanish into thin air.
"Hmm." He looks at intently, thinking it over. "We arranged a code word, didn’t we?"
"We did." My thoughts flick back to earlier in the night. "So?"
"So?" He repeats, amused.
He’s obviously enjoying this way too much. How is he not disturbed that we’ve suddenly found ourselves once again in a separate reality with no control over what might happen?
"So, what’s the code word?"
"Let think. It starts with a D," he says softly and then leans in to kiss my nose. "And ends with an A." Then he leans in to kiss my lips, teasing with the amount of ti it takes for his to finally touch mine.
"That could be a lot of words," I say on a shaky breath, overwheld by the effect of his presence.
"A lot of words?" He repeats it with a soft laugh. "Like what?"
"Like... diva."
"Diva," he nods, crossing his arms and then doing a little wave with his hand to invite more. "Okay. What else?"
"De.. ntia."
"Dentia?" His eyebrows tent. "Impressive. Any more?"
"Yeah, lots." I lift my chin stubbornly, wishing to prove sothing that has no relevance to anything. But Luciano has provided a challenge, and I’m stubborn. It’s a character flaw. Thankfully his smirk says he’s getting a kick out of it.
"Are you going to list them for , tesoro?"
"Sure," I shrug, crossing my arms to mirror him. "Dystopia. Dracula. Drama. Data. Dogma."
"Okay, okay," he chuckles, raising his hand in submission. "I get it."
"Diarrhea," I add, and receive a burst of laughter in reply. "Was our code word diarrhea, Luciano?" I can’t finish the question without being infected with his laughter.
"Maybe we should change it to that." He tugs by the waist, smirking down at . "Dolcezza."
"Ah. That’s it. So it is you," I whisper, being caught once again by the enchantnt of his gaze. "So much prettier than diarrhea."
"It is, isn’t it?"
Every little detail of his face is exactly like it is in reality. Every masculine angle. If we weren’t mysteriously dropped right into the middle of our own wedding day, it might be impossible to tell the difference between dream and reality.
"You look beautiful, dolcezza," he whispers.
"Thanks. I didn’t exactly pick the dress myself."
"Maybe you did." His fingers trail so lightly down my arm that he’s barely touching , and it sends prickles of pleasure everywhere.
"I honestly don’t think I would," I chuckle. "I can barely move."
His eyebrows lift. "Want to take it off?"
"No," I scoff. "We’re out in the middle of... a place."
"In a dream," he reminds . "Where there’s no one else around."
"So you’re suggesting... what?" I laugh. "Dream sex?"
"I would suggest we do the dream nuptials instead, but it’s probably not very official." His hand lifts to cup my face, and he kisses .
The entire universe exists in this dark, hot cavern of our mouths. That’s when it occurs to that there are worlds within worlds. The kiss within the dream is only diving deeper, getting closer to touching the heart of whatever this is between us.
"Luci," I gasp, his na a request. A desperate request.
In the next mont, he has found the dress’s zipper and opened it while I undo his belt.
"This is crazy," I giggle, stepping out of the dress and baring myself to the hillside. The thought that dream doesn’t wear underwear flickers through my thoughts, and I’m smiling into the next kiss we share.
"I’m all for it," he chuckles. "Any place, anywhere. As long as it’s with my future wife."
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