Shadow Reaper
Page 5
Ricco shrugged out of his jacket and let her take it to hang up along with his tie. “Just us tonight?” He was already unbuttoning the top three buttons of his shirt.
“Yes.” She made a face at him. “Family business.”
He found himself relaxing. He was good at family business. Francesca would have told him if Eloisa was present. As a rule, his mother didn’t show up for family events at Stefano’s – which meant she was almost never present.
Taviano had come to him three weeks earlier with his findings. A casing had cracked on the shock absorber. Stefano had yet to talk to him about it, so he was fairly certain that was what this night was all about. He didn’t really care what it was that brought the family together, only that they were together.
“Stefano told me you’re advertising for a rope model,” Francesca continued. “How’s that coming?”
“There’s a lot of fucked-up women in the world,” he replied.
She laughed. “You’re just finding that out?”
“Since meeting you, I had high hopes.” That was partly true, but mostly he was teasing her. Something new for him with an outsider, although he’d never considered her that. Francesca fit right in with his brothers and Emmanuelle. She was family, and every one of them would lay down their lives for her.
She gave him another smile. She really was a beautiful woman. Stefano was lucky to find her. Not only was she sweet, intelligent and beautiful, but she also could have been a rider, had she been found and trained from the time she was a child. She was rare. Very rare. She had accepted their way of life, shrouded in secrecy and living outside the accepted laws of the land.
Ricco sighed. He’d secretly hoped that by advertising for a rope model, the woman of his dreams would appear. She would be tall, with red hair, because he liked that look, slim like a model and very willing to accept him as the focus of her life. More, she would be an untrained rider, one who could give him children so his family would be happy. So far he’d gotten every body type, hair color and a variety of curves, a lot of women willing to do kink and more who wanted money. A lot of money. He hadn’t connected with any of them – not even physically.
He hadn’t conducted the interviews, but he’d been there, in the shadows, watching where the parade of women couldn’t see him. He was determined to find one woman that aroused him at least emotionally, if not physically, but nothing happened. It was depressing.
He’d always liked women – especially when he came out of the shadow tubes after a job. He never connected with them on any level but physical. He never wanted to spend any time with them outside of having sex. He was adventurous sexually and surrounded himself with women who were the same way, but he played and he left. He always made that clear. He wasn’t a man who stayed. Lately, even that was fading. He played with the Lacey twins occasionally, but he wasn’t into it anymore.
He envied Stefano his ability to have a relationship. He wasn’t certain he could do it. Now that he’d been in on the interviews with the various women applying to be a rope model, he was fairly positive he would never be that man. He wanted it, but he just felt indifference or annoyance. None of the women knew who the rope master was, but they’d tried to find out. He’d been careful to have Emilio conduct the interviews in a neutral location – the conference room of the Ferraro Hotel where many interviews for a variety of jobs were often conducted.
“It’s going to happen for you, Ricco,” Francesca said, walking with him through the enormous open room toward the kitchen where the family usually gathered. “I know you don’t think it will, but I feel it. She’s close.”
He glanced at her sharply. Francesca wasn’t given to fantasy. He shook his head in denial. He’d given up that dream a long time ago. “Done too many things in my life to ever have a decent woman throw in with me.”
“I’m a decent woman and I love you,” Francesca said.
“Yeah, but you’re my sister.”
“I love you, too.” Emmanuelle joined them, slipping her arm around his waist as well. “But then, I’m your sister, too, and it’s well known by the lot of you that I have no sense.”
Ricco couldn’t help but laugh. Emmanuelle could always make him smile, no matter how bad his nights had been. She was a ray of sunshine to all of them.
She turned her face up to his, her eyes moving over his features, seeing things he didn’t want her to see. At once the smile disappeared. “You aren’t sleeping.”
He shrugged, trying to look casual. “Never been good at sleeping, honey. Tell me what’s happening in our neighborhood. I’ve been out of the loop for a while.”
“Francesca knows far more than any of us. Working at Masci’s she hears everything, don’t you?”
Francesca went to the stove, where Taviano was turning the guinea fowl in the frying pan. Using olive oil, he’d sautéed garlic and scallions and then placed the fowl skin side down before adding sage. He glanced up and winked at Ricco. “Francesca was just going to let this burn.”
“She never burns anything,” Giovanni objected. He mixed the homemade pasta noodles with the artichoke sauce. “Stefano scored big-time with this one. He just needs a few bambinos running around, her pregnant and barefoot, and the man will be happy.”
“He’s already happy,” Francesca said smugly.
“Well, I’d be happy,” Giovanni clarified. “I’d make a great uncle.”
Francesca blew him a kiss and sat on the barstool between her brothers-in-law. “Lucia and Amo are having the time of their lives with their new daughter, Nicoletta. Extremely happy.”
“Is she going to a regular school yet?” Stefano asked, coming up behind his wife and circling her around the waist with his arms.
Ricco had noticed Stefano couldn’t get near Francesca without touching her. He envied his brother that and wanted it for himself. He just wanted to feel for someone. Connect with someone.
“She’s smart,” Vittorio said. He stabbed his fork into the pasta and took a bite, then held up his thumb, indicating it was good. “But she doesn’t want to go to a regular school. Amo asked me to talk to her. I did, but I don’t think she was impressed. She didn’t say much, just looked at me. I don’t envy them. The girl is gorgeous. Every young man from here to hell and back is going to be knocking at their door.”
“Why do you all want her in a regular school?” Taviano asked. “More trouble if you ask me. All those horny bastards leering at her. Do we really want that kind of problem? One of us would have to go scare the crap out of them and then she’d be embarrassed or pissed and we’d get the blame. Keep her home. Locked up. It’s for her own good.”
“Yes.” She made a face at him. “Family business.”
He found himself relaxing. He was good at family business. Francesca would have told him if Eloisa was present. As a rule, his mother didn’t show up for family events at Stefano’s – which meant she was almost never present.
Taviano had come to him three weeks earlier with his findings. A casing had cracked on the shock absorber. Stefano had yet to talk to him about it, so he was fairly certain that was what this night was all about. He didn’t really care what it was that brought the family together, only that they were together.
“Stefano told me you’re advertising for a rope model,” Francesca continued. “How’s that coming?”
“There’s a lot of fucked-up women in the world,” he replied.
She laughed. “You’re just finding that out?”
“Since meeting you, I had high hopes.” That was partly true, but mostly he was teasing her. Something new for him with an outsider, although he’d never considered her that. Francesca fit right in with his brothers and Emmanuelle. She was family, and every one of them would lay down their lives for her.
She gave him another smile. She really was a beautiful woman. Stefano was lucky to find her. Not only was she sweet, intelligent and beautiful, but she also could have been a rider, had she been found and trained from the time she was a child. She was rare. Very rare. She had accepted their way of life, shrouded in secrecy and living outside the accepted laws of the land.
Ricco sighed. He’d secretly hoped that by advertising for a rope model, the woman of his dreams would appear. She would be tall, with red hair, because he liked that look, slim like a model and very willing to accept him as the focus of her life. More, she would be an untrained rider, one who could give him children so his family would be happy. So far he’d gotten every body type, hair color and a variety of curves, a lot of women willing to do kink and more who wanted money. A lot of money. He hadn’t connected with any of them – not even physically.
He hadn’t conducted the interviews, but he’d been there, in the shadows, watching where the parade of women couldn’t see him. He was determined to find one woman that aroused him at least emotionally, if not physically, but nothing happened. It was depressing.
He’d always liked women – especially when he came out of the shadow tubes after a job. He never connected with them on any level but physical. He never wanted to spend any time with them outside of having sex. He was adventurous sexually and surrounded himself with women who were the same way, but he played and he left. He always made that clear. He wasn’t a man who stayed. Lately, even that was fading. He played with the Lacey twins occasionally, but he wasn’t into it anymore.
He envied Stefano his ability to have a relationship. He wasn’t certain he could do it. Now that he’d been in on the interviews with the various women applying to be a rope model, he was fairly positive he would never be that man. He wanted it, but he just felt indifference or annoyance. None of the women knew who the rope master was, but they’d tried to find out. He’d been careful to have Emilio conduct the interviews in a neutral location – the conference room of the Ferraro Hotel where many interviews for a variety of jobs were often conducted.
“It’s going to happen for you, Ricco,” Francesca said, walking with him through the enormous open room toward the kitchen where the family usually gathered. “I know you don’t think it will, but I feel it. She’s close.”
He glanced at her sharply. Francesca wasn’t given to fantasy. He shook his head in denial. He’d given up that dream a long time ago. “Done too many things in my life to ever have a decent woman throw in with me.”
“I’m a decent woman and I love you,” Francesca said.
“Yeah, but you’re my sister.”
“I love you, too.” Emmanuelle joined them, slipping her arm around his waist as well. “But then, I’m your sister, too, and it’s well known by the lot of you that I have no sense.”
Ricco couldn’t help but laugh. Emmanuelle could always make him smile, no matter how bad his nights had been. She was a ray of sunshine to all of them.
She turned her face up to his, her eyes moving over his features, seeing things he didn’t want her to see. At once the smile disappeared. “You aren’t sleeping.”
He shrugged, trying to look casual. “Never been good at sleeping, honey. Tell me what’s happening in our neighborhood. I’ve been out of the loop for a while.”
“Francesca knows far more than any of us. Working at Masci’s she hears everything, don’t you?”
Francesca went to the stove, where Taviano was turning the guinea fowl in the frying pan. Using olive oil, he’d sautéed garlic and scallions and then placed the fowl skin side down before adding sage. He glanced up and winked at Ricco. “Francesca was just going to let this burn.”
“She never burns anything,” Giovanni objected. He mixed the homemade pasta noodles with the artichoke sauce. “Stefano scored big-time with this one. He just needs a few bambinos running around, her pregnant and barefoot, and the man will be happy.”
“He’s already happy,” Francesca said smugly.
“Well, I’d be happy,” Giovanni clarified. “I’d make a great uncle.”
Francesca blew him a kiss and sat on the barstool between her brothers-in-law. “Lucia and Amo are having the time of their lives with their new daughter, Nicoletta. Extremely happy.”
“Is she going to a regular school yet?” Stefano asked, coming up behind his wife and circling her around the waist with his arms.
Ricco had noticed Stefano couldn’t get near Francesca without touching her. He envied his brother that and wanted it for himself. He just wanted to feel for someone. Connect with someone.
“She’s smart,” Vittorio said. He stabbed his fork into the pasta and took a bite, then held up his thumb, indicating it was good. “But she doesn’t want to go to a regular school. Amo asked me to talk to her. I did, but I don’t think she was impressed. She didn’t say much, just looked at me. I don’t envy them. The girl is gorgeous. Every young man from here to hell and back is going to be knocking at their door.”
“Why do you all want her in a regular school?” Taviano asked. “More trouble if you ask me. All those horny bastards leering at her. Do we really want that kind of problem? One of us would have to go scare the crap out of them and then she’d be embarrassed or pissed and we’d get the blame. Keep her home. Locked up. It’s for her own good.”
