Shadow Reaper
Page 77

 Christine Feehan

  • Background:
  • Text Font:
  • Text Size:
  • Line Height:
  • Line Break Height:
  • Frame:
 
Ricco shocked her by letting her go, turning her around and catching her under her legs to lift her. She had no choice but to grab on to his neck to hold herself upright. He looked down at her upturned face.
 
“Do you know how amazing you are?”
 
She shook her head but stared at the door, afraid to move or breathe.
 
“I have family. I’ve always had them. No matter what happens in my life, they’re here for me. You only have your brother, yet of the two of us, I’m the far more broken one. That alone speaks to your incredible strength, Mariko. Beautiful, strong and so ready to sacrifice for me. No, you’re right, I wasn’t the marrying kind. I never wanted to have a woman spend the night with me because I knew she wasn’t the right woman. You are that woman. When a man looks his entire existence, waiting to find her, and she shows up, believe me, amore, he recognizes her.”
 
She was afraid to move or speak. If she misunderstood him, or dared to believe him, she might shatter. She could only stare up at him, wondering how he could say such things to her, afraid to believe him.
 
“I’m willing to give you just about anything in this world you want, Mariko. I have the means to do it. You don’t want to be a rider, you don’t have to be. You don’t want children with me, you don’t have to have them. I don’t give a damn what the council says. I’ll stand in front of you, beside you or watch your back. But you’re not leaving this room until we have an understanding. I’ve had everything I don’t want. Believe me when I tell you, I recognize what I do want and I’ll do anything to keep it.”
 
 
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
 
 
H
is past had finally caught up with him. Ricco stared down into Mariko’s beloved face. He detested that he had hurt her in any way. She’d been hurt enough by the people who had taken her into their home – the ones who should have shown her love. He brushed her forehead with his mouth and placed her back in the middle of his bed, following her so that she had no chance to escape if she was so inclined.
 
“I think, before we go into explanations of why I’m so fucked up, and how I need you to save me, I think you need to be aware my marriage proposal was very sincere.”
 
She shook her head. “Don’t, Ricco. I was there. You were saving me from Kichiro, which was very gallant of you and I really appreciate it, but I’m certainly not going to hold you to it.” She scooted up to the headboard, sat with her back to it, drawing up her knees and pulling the sheet up to her chin.
 
He wanted to tell her if she thought she was safe – she wasn’t. He had ropes in the room and could easily tie her to the bedpost if that was the only way he could get her to stay and listen. He almost laughed out loud at his crazy thoughts. He was in full-blown panic mode, another new first for him as an adult. He’d prepared for every situation but finding the woman he could love and losing her through his own stupidity.
 
“You’re giving me far too much credit, Mariko,” he said, raking his fingers through his hair in agitation. “I’m not the kind of man who goes around saving women.”
 
“You’re exactly that kind of man.”
 
“I told Emilio I was going to marry you,” he pointed out.
 
“In the heat of the moment. Joking.”
 
“Woman.” Exasperated, he glared at her.
 
“Would you mind putting on some clothes? A robe? Anything? I can’t think straight.”
 
She sounded a little desperate and that took some of the tension away. She couldn’t be so bent on leaving him if she couldn’t look at him naked with a clear mind. He sank down onto the bed, facing her.
 
“Does that help?”
 
She nodded. “Thank you, I appreciate it.”
 
He almost smiled at her prim voice, but caught himself just in time. He reached for her hand, threaded their fingers together and dropped them to his thigh. Up high. Close to his stirring groin.
 
“Do you think I’ve ever proposed to a woman before?”
 
She bit her lip, her eyes wide. Dio, he loved her eyes. He could spend eternity looking into her eyes. “The answer is no. I haven’t. Not even in the heat of the moment. Not when I won races or came out of the tube needing sex more than I needed to breathe. Only with you. Do you think I ever brought another woman to this home? The answer is no. Only you. I haven’t had one in this bed. Just you. I haven’t touched another woman sexually when she was in the ropes. Just you. By taking you to Ferraro territory I declared my intentions for everyone to see, and that was before the heat of the moment.”
 
She pressed her lips together, her gaze never leaving his. Her lashes fluttered, drawing his attention. Long and dark, they curled, feathery soft and so feminine around her eyes. He brought her hand up to his mouth, kissed her knuckles and brought it back to his thigh. His cock jerked hard at the close proximity. He wanted to point out that even his cock recognized her but kept that to himself.
 
“I have your engagement and wedding rings in my nightstand. I wanted to ask you properly.”
 
Her head went up. “That’s impossible. Any ring on a rider must be specially made, just like our clothes. There’s only one jeweler… Damian.” Her voice dropped almost to reverence when she named the store. Damian Ferraro used his first name for his famous designs.
 
“One of my cousins.”
 
“Even so, it takes forever to get anything from him. He also makes regular jewelry and his designs are exclusive and sought-after. He couldn’t possibly have designed a ring and gotten it to you in that short amount of time.”
 
Her voice was a challenge, and it made him smile. Keeping her hand on his thigh, he leaned over and opened the nightstand drawer to take out a box. “You can’t wear gems in the tube. Only this alloy.” He took out the small jewelry box and flipped it open with his thumb.
 
Mariko drew back when he pushed it across the short distance. For a moment, she continued to look at his face, and then her gaze dropped to the ring. His cousin was a renowned jeweler, his designs so sought-after, celebrities, multimillionaires and kings and queens from other countries went to him for a personal piece of jewelry.
 
His cousin Damian had a gift. He could design the perfect piece of jewelry that suited an individual. His wedding rings were so sought-after that you had to go to him years in advance to get an individual piece. Each one of the Ferraros had gone to him when they turned twenty-five, knowing they would have to marry whether or not they found the love of their lives. It was a tradition in their family.
 
In truth, he’d been upset when he saw the rings Damian had designed for him. He watched as Mariko slowly picked up the box and stared down at the rings. Both were bands. The engagement ring was wider than the wedding band. The wide band had two Japanese swords carved into the metal. They were exquisitely detailed, the hilts ornate. Twisted into the hilts of both swords was the Ferraro family crest. Inside had been carved Sempre la vostra spada e scudo. Always your sword and shield.