Piers Delano was dancing with his wife, Hila Zaidi. They moved their bodies slowly, pressed to each other. She was as tall as him, and his lean body thrummed with passion as he held her close, inhaling her scent.
She had been watching O’Grady push his way across to the door through which Serena had led the little girl the Irishman had been sharing with his brother.
Her brow arched as she said,
“He looks like he wants something, Piers.”
Her husband smiled his handsome face with the blonde hair that was always falling on his forehead, flopping across it now, making him look boyish. Hila looked at him steadily, tracing his strong features with her eyes silently.
She loved him with all her heart, this young Mafia Don of hers, who was as ruthless as his father but gentler too.
He loved her, he thought again as she held his gaze steadily. Her eyes narrowed as she said,
“Whatever, Pretty Piers. But no more kids, ok?”
He threw back his head and roared with laughter.
She had known what he was thinking. Only Hila could make him laugh out loud like this, on an occasion which was as important as a visit by POTUS!
From across the room, Lucien Delano, who was standing with his woman leaning on his arm, growled drily,
“Our son looks happy.”
Proserpina turned, dimpling and turning, lightly, almost accidentally brushed her hand across his fly, staying there for a minute , stroking him lightly before moving away. The Don’s eyes narrowed.
“Would you like to take a walk into one of the gardens with me, Woman?” he growled and sher face was pink as she shook her head, blushing wildly.
*
Serena looked at Bianca.
Liam O’Grady had followed them and was striding towards them like a big bear, his shoulders tense, his eyes like slits.
She glanced at Bianca as she said tightly, “Shall I get …?”
But Bianca was done with running. She stepped forward, looking at Serena with a smile.
“I can handle this, Serena,” she said softly,” I need to speak to him. And him.”
Her eyes moved past O’Grady, who was bearing down on her, to St Just who had appeared, his handsome face tight with anxiety and a host of other emotions.
Serena shot a glance at Bianca’s set, determined little face. Nodding, she stepped back, taking another door which also led into the Club.
The place where she had brought Bianca was another of the myriad gardens that dotted the grounds of Shangri La, little cozy spots where men and their paramours could make out without being spotted by any nosy onlookers.
Bianca stood beside a small tree, with branches full of heavily fragrant flowers. She watched O’Grady as he slowed, uncertainly. She had deliberately shut off her mind from memories of him, of how his thick thighs were almost as wide as her waist, and yes, the strength in his powerful arms which were now outlined beneath his dinner jacket. She smiled sadly. How she loved this man. And her eyes met St Just’s concerned tawny eyes orve O’Grady’s shoulder. He looked as classy as ever and she dimpled. She had been lucky to have had these men in her life. But there were a few things she had to make them understand.
“Pet,” said O’Grady coming forward hesitantly, hands outstretched. For what? He asked himself. because Bianca stood, as beautiful as ever, clad in a softly swirling gown, her skin glowing softly as he watched him, her brown eyes sure and confident.
She had folded her arms across her chest and his heart sank.
St Just moved a step.
“Sugar?” he questioned. She shut her eyes briefly, willing herself to be strong. It would not do for her body to play traitor again.
Opening them, she said in her soft, melodious tones,
“O’Grady. St Just.”
And when O’Grady began again, his voice a fervent plea,
“Pet…”she shook her head slowly.
Gently, almost pityingly, she whispered,
“I am not your Pet, Mr O’Grady.” And as he recoiled, she went on, her brown eyes steady,
“I have a name. Bianca. Bianca Cruz.”
*
Claude looked around, baffled. Where had O’Grady got to? His wife, Karina, her small belly visible under her voluminous skirts, came up to him. In her richly accented voice, she said softly,
“Are you looking for O’Grady?” he wound his arms around her waist, beaming. He loved his little wife.
“They have gone after Bianca.” She went on, brushing an imaginary speck of dust from his shoulder. Claude looked even more confused.
“But I thought they …they had dumped her?”
Karina’s reaction took him by surprise.
His normally placid little wife squared her plump shoulders and glared at him.
Shoving his chest, she hissed,
“No. you not saying that about Bianca. SHE dumped Them.”
Claude’s eyes widened. Then he laughed hesitantly as he became aware of his brothers Louis and Dom, who were close by.
Both the me had heard every word.
Wow, but Karina was a firecracker, he thought proudly as he beamed down upon her.
*
Liam O’Grady looked perplexed.
” Bianca, baby, what…?” he said his voice echoing his confusion.
She stepped to him and he froze, Their Pet looked devastatingly sexy in the evening gown that clung to her curves.
She looked up at him, her face bathed in the light as she said softly,
“I have been thinking, a lot, O’Grady. I want to live; I want to explore life.”
His shoulders slumped. St Just had come up beside him and he said in a half-strangulated voice,
“So…is there another man…?”
Bianca shook her head, dimpling. “No, O’Grady and no, St Just.”
She looked from one to the other as she said, in earnestness,
‘I …both of you …have …”
She stopped and sighed. This was going all wrong. She wanted to make these beautiful conflicted men she loved, understand, but how?
O’Grady, surprisingly, was the one who spoke.
“You need time, is that it, lassie?”
She looked up at him, the sober look on his handsome face so completely at odds with the man she loved.
St Just sighed.
“We did it all the wrong way, mate. We took her to bed first…” her head spun to look at him.
FIRST?
What did he mean by that?
“What do you mean?” asked Bianca, her eyes narrowing.
O’Grady stepped forward.
“Lass, we want to marry you.”
He smiled, shamefacedly as he patted his jacket pocket.
“I walked around with the ring for days, trying to build up the courage to propose.’ And added as he saw her face,
“On our behalf. Both of us.” She stepped back, a hand going to her mouth.
“Wait, O’Grady. Are you…?’She looked from one to the other in astonishment, emotions warring within her as she half murmured,
“Are you saying…?”
St Just moved to her, careful not to crowd her.
“Sugar, we can’t live without you, baby.”
O’Grady stepped forward to her as he said humbly.
“Bianca Cruz, will you be our wife?”