She hardly realized how badly she’d craved that feeling until now. With him.
Chiara and Pietro must have felt some degree of safety now too. They had both dozed off just a few minutes into the drive. No doubt the late hour and the stress of what they’d endured tonight had left them exhausted, but Bella knew their peaceful breathing had much to do with the man who’d surely saved their lives.
Bella glanced at Ettore in the soft light of the old truck’s dashboard. His eyes were fixed on the open road, one hand slung over the top of the steering wheel. He seemed deep in his own thoughts until the weight of her gaze drew his attention. He looked her way, and although she was embarrassed to be caught staring at him, she couldn’t pretend she hadn’t been.
“Thank you for helping them,” she said quietly. “Thank you for helping all of us tonight.”
He gave a small shake of his head. “There’s no need to thank me, Bella. I would do anything for you. Don’t you know that?”
No, she didn’t know that. For all she knew, she’d meant absolutely nothing to him. Not ten years ago. Certainly not all this time later. “Why did you do it, Ettore? Why did you leave and never come back? Was it because of something I did?”
“No.” His answer came swiftly, his brows furrowing in a scowl. “Christ, no. You didn’t do anything at all. Tell me that’s not what they let you believe…”
“They?” A sick feeling opened up in the pit of her stomach. “You mean my family? You mean my father and Sal?”
His silent stare was confirmation enough.
“Tell me,” she prompted. “What did they do?”
He glanced back at the road. “They were only looking out for your best interests, Bella. They noticed we were growing closer—they noticed my interest in you as a woman—and your father wasn’t pleased. Neither was Sal, actually.”
“Are you saying they pushed you away? No… Surely they would not. Are you saying they didn’t want us together, so they forced us apart?”
Anger clawed up the back of her throat. She could hardly stand the thought of what their interference had caused her. To think she had wept over her father’s murder. To think she had wept for Sal, even after he’d betrayed her to Vito Massioni.
But selling her out to that criminal thug hurt less than knowing the two men she trusted the most all her life had actually betrayed her even more egregiously long before then, when they stole her chance at a future with Ettore.
He slanted her a sober look. “They loved you, Arabella. Your father wanted to make sure you found a male who could provide for you, give you all the things you deserved in life. Your father and Sal both wanted only what was best for you.”
Her answering scoff was brittle. “Look how that turned out.”
“They couldn’t have known how things would end up,” he gently assured her. “But I wish I had known. I wish the Order had been on to Vito Massioni years ago, so I could’ve killed the bastard before he had the chance to lay a hand on you.”
“It could’ve been worse,” she admitted quietly. “I endured his temper sometimes, but at least I avoided his lust.”
When Ettore glanced at her, there was surprise in his gaze, and more than a little relief. “You mean, he never—”
“Never,” she said. “I told him my gift for scrying would only last as long as I was a virgin. Since I made him wealthy with my visions, he apparently decided he enjoyed collecting his money more than he would enjoy abusing me.”
He smirked. “Clever girl. Except for one thing.”
She felt a blush creep over her cheeks at the reminder.
She wasn’t a virgin. She had given that part of her to Ettore. It had been their one and only time together.The next night, he was gone.
“Fortunately, Massioni never doubted me. I think he might’ve eventually, but he had other women to slake his needs.”
“Thank God,” Ettore muttered. He frowned, his hazel gaze turbulent with stifled fury. “What about your visions, Bella? Did you never see any hint of your brother’s troubles in your scrying bowl?”
She shook her head. “I don’t see visions that relate to myself or the people I care for. My ability has never worked like that.”
Which was why she’d never seen Ettore either, although it hadn’t stopped her from trying to find him with her gift over the years he’d been gone. But her scrying had never found him.
Not even as he’d planned for and carried out his attack on Vito Massioni.
She dearly hoped Ettore had been successful, because if Massioni were alive to get his hands on her now, his punishment would be beyond brutal.
Ettore’s mouth flattened into a grim line. “I never should’ve agreed to leave, no matter what your family wanted. It wasn’t their decision to make. I didn’t understand that until after I was gone.” He reached over and stroked her cheek. “I should’ve come back for you, Bella. I’m sorry I wasn’t there.”
She turned into his caress, feeling no animosity toward him, only gratitude. And an affection that went far deeper than that.
Far deeper than the desire she felt simply for being seated so closely beside him, his comforting touch lingering against her face.
“You’re here now,” she said, pressing a soft kiss to the center of his palm.
His eyes flickered with sparks of amber light as her lips met his skin. She only meant the contact to be one of gratefulness and caring, but she felt the jolt of awareness too.
Her chest tightened, heat spreading across her breasts, licking down to her core.
Oh, yes, she still cared for him.
She wanted him.
Memories of stolen kisses and secret, tender embraces filled her head. She’d had only one night with Ettore, naked in each other’s arms, but she had held it close to her heart ever since.
Neither the cruelty of time nor fate had diminished anything she felt for him. To the contrary, it had only made the craving deepen. It had only made her recognize how keenly she had felt his loss all this time.
And how profoundly happy she was to be reunited with him now.
Even if in a shadowed corner of her heart she dreaded that fate wasn’t nearly finished with them yet.
Chapter 7
Savage didn’t know how he’d managed to endure more than an hour in the truck, seated so close to Bella. Her thigh had rested against his the whole trip, contact that had distracted him, soothed him…aroused him beyond reason.