Russian Lullaby

Author:Holly Bargo [Bargo, Holly]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Hen House Publishing
Published: 2016-03-15T18:30:00+00:00

Chapter 5

Waking alone the next morning, Gia stretched and grunted at the surprising soreness of every muscle she never realized she had. A second later and realizing why she was sore, a sly smile spread across her face even as her complexion reddened with a weird combination of arousal and embarrassment. Had he really done that to her? Had she really enjoyed it?

Yes, on both counts.

What she hadn’t realized was that conjugal gymnastics wore a body out. The smile disappeared in a grimace as she made her way to the bathroom for a hot shower. She glanced longingly at the tub, but wasn’t really sure how long she’d have before Vitaly fetched her. Why he’d fetch her, she couldn’t say. A shower instead of a long soak just seemed...prudent.

Hearing the sound of water rushing through the PVC pipes, Vitaly crept upstairs to his bedroom. He opened the door and peered into a cloud of steam from the hot shower. The blurred image of her, wet and slick in his shower, shot straight to his groin. He shook his head to clear it of carnal intent. He’d taken her virginity less than twenty-four hours ago; she’d be sore, too tender to accommodate him again so soon. A good husband had care for his wife. He knocked on the open door and said loudly over the sound of running water, “You’ll be sore, Giancarla. Take a nice, long soak.”

She must have heard him, because a moment later the showerhead spray stopped and the tub spigot ran full force.

He clenched his fists as he wrested control from the little head trying to do the thinking for him and turned back around. Back in the kitchen, he poured another cup of coffee and carried it to the table where he resumed reading the newspaper and mulling over the ramifications of having married into the Italian mafia.

Giuseppe Maglione had slipped him a business card at the reception, along with another warning to treat his granddaughter with all due kindness and respect. The old mobster hadn’t needed to state the “or else” part of his admonition. Vitaly pulled the business card out and studied it for the third time that morning.

It was plain, no garish graphics for Giancarla’s dapper grandfather. The type on the cards was engraved, much more expensive than ink, a sign of old fashioned class and wealth. It contained nothing more than the man’s name and a telephone number. Vitaly wondered if the man himself would answer a call to that number or if it was a general card he carried and handed out to everyone. Somehow, he didn’t think so. He wondered if Giuseppe had given one to Maksim. Again, he didn’t think so.

He set the business card down and picked up the other one given to him by Giovanni Maglione. It, too, exemplified an understated elegance, but that one had an additional line of information: Giovanni’s email address. The young man, who was obviously the heir apparent to his grandfather’s empire, had whispered another warning in Vitaly’s ear.

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