EPILOGUE
Cara
“It’s not much,” Ryan said quietly as he led me into his apartment. It was in Harlem, near a small park so he could walk Coco and Bandit there when he didn’t have time to take them out of the city bounds. He had to leave most of his savings behind in Las Vegas and he’d refused Luca’s offer for an advance. He wanted to earn the money he used and I respected that, admired it even. Ryan would have to work his way up in the Famiglia. He had to prove himself to his fellow Made Men. Many people still distrusted him and that wouldn’t change anytime soon. The Camorra was hated in this city.
I followed him inside and squeezed his hand. Coco and Bandit pressed up to me excitedly, yapping and wagging their tails. I patted their heads in passing as Ryan led me through the small corridor into the living room. It wasn’t as spacious as the rooms in my family’s home but it wasn’t exactly tiny either. The only pieces of furniture were a beige sofa, a coffee table and a TV attached to the wall.
“I think this might need a female touch,” I said with a small laugh as I took in the bare walls and lack of decoration in general.
Ryan looked at me strangely. “I thought you could move in with me.”
I swallowed. I hadn’t expected it. Since he’d come to New York three weeks ago, our relationship had been careful, hesitant. I had moved into an apartment with my mother and Talia, and tried helping them heal, and Ryan had been busy gaining the respect and trust from Luca and the rest of the Famiglia. We had seen each other a few times to walk the dogs together but except for a few kisses Ryan hadn’t initiated any physical closeness, nor had I.
This was a new start for both of us, and we needed time to find ourselves and find back together. “You want us to live together?”
Ryan looked away, amber eyes reflecting his inner turmoil. “I know the rules of our world. I know an honorable woman like you shouldn’t live with a man before she’s married, and I want to marry you, but I thought…”
“You want us to marry?” I exclaimed. My heart was beating furiously in my chest.
He rubbed his neck then met my gaze. “Yes. I…You weren’t supposed to lose your innocence before marriage and people in the Famiglia might judge you for it. But it was my fault. You had no choice and I want to make things right.”
I touched his chest, feeling it heave under my palms. “I don’t want us to marry because you feel guilty. If we marry it has to be because we want it.”
“I want to marry you,” he rasped.
“And I want to marry you,” I said quietly. “But I think we should live together for a while, and allow my mother and sister to grow used to the idea. So much has happened, I think we all need more time.”
He nodded, then cupped my cheek. “But you will move in with me?”
I looked around. “If you give me free rein over the decorations.”
Ryan smiled. It still looked unpracticed on his face but I loved seeing it. “I’ll work hard so we can get something bigger soon.”
“I don’t care about that. I just want us to be happy and we don’t need luxury for that.”
“I want to make you happy.”
I touched his cheek and stood on my tiptoes, pressing my lips against his. “And I want to make you happy. You deserve happiness as much as I do.”
He didn’t say anything but there was still a hint of doubt in his eyes. He thought he didn’t deserve to be happy but I would prove him wrong.
I deepened the kiss then whispered. “I want to be with you.”
Ryan’s eyes flashed with want but he hesitated, even as his hands lightly brushed my hips. “I thought you might want to wait until we are married before we have sex again.”
I laughed then shook my head. “I don’t want to wait. I want to make love to you.”
He made a low sound in his throat and finally his kisses became more eager. He lifted me up and carried me toward his bedroom where he laid me down carefully on the bed. He undressed me without hurry, his eyes taking in every inch of me.
“I want to see you too,” I said, and watched reverently as he undressed, revealing tattoos and scars and muscles.
“No one’s ever looked at me like you do,” he growled as he lowered himself on top of me.
“Because they never really saw you,” I said, then moaned as he brought his mouth down on my breast.
I could see how he forced himself to slow down, to touch me lightly, to show me through his touch what he felt, and I enjoyed this softer side of him.
When he finally molded out bodies together and began moving slowly, I leaned forward and kissed the scar around his throat gently. His thrusts faltered briefly but then he cupped my head and locked gazes with me. For some reason this felt like our first time because we both had come together freely, happily without reservations and that’s how it was meant to be.