Accardi (Genevieve and Matteo) by Allison Franklin novel Chapter 115

Chapter One Hundred and Fifteen

“Buongiorno.”

Gen startled awake at the foreign voice. Matteo lurched upward, shoving her down into the bed at the same time as he raised a handgun that materialized out of thin air. A shot rang out. Gen screamed and covered her ears. A moment of silence filled the cabin. Her breathing was short and rapid. She cautiously looked sideways to Matteo who was sitting up with the sheets pooled around his waist. He desperately tried to blink the sleep away from his eyes and

squinted one as he struggled to make out the figure in the cabin doorway. His hair was tousled from sleep, his chest rose and fell sharply while his gun

remained trained on the intruder. Gen turned her eyes to the doorway to find an unimpressed Alessio Palladino watching them.

He casually glanced up at the bullet hole embedded in the wall approximately two inches from his head. “La tua mira è sbagliata, Cugino.”

“Era un colpo di avvertimento, Stronzo,” Matteo growled, releasing his hold of Gen’s arm.

Alessio cast a disinterested look between the couple laying naked beneath the covers of the bed. “Benvenuti in Italia. Alzarsi.”

“Cazzo. Un minuto. Vattene,” Gen hissed, drawing wide eyes from both of the Italian men before she burrowed beneath the sheets again.

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A few seconds passed before Matteo gently pulled the sheets away from her face. His morning smile, part sleepy, part boyish, made a slow blush creep up her cheeks.

“Amore, did I just hear your pretty mouth curse in Italian?”

“Maybe,” she whispered.

“Pray tell, how long have you been keeping this secret knowledge of my second language from me?”

“A few months. I’ve been learning.”

“Curse words?”

“A few.”

Matteo bent down, his lips still creased in a smile as he kissed her. “Buongiorno, Debolezza.”

“Good morning… Uh…”

“Weakness,” he whispered before kissing her again.

“Ah, well Buongiorno, Matteo. Looks like we broke some laws after all. How did you sleep?” she asked as he settled back in bed and brought her against his

chest.

He sighed deeply, causing her body to rise and fall with his chest. “Twenty more hours like that and I’d be a new man,” he admitted, his eyes closed and a soft smile on his lips.

“Twenty hours? I can make that happen,” she said, determined.

“I have no doubt. We’ll have to get up soon though. Alessio is the kind to leave us behind if we take too long.”

“Let him,” she whispered, nuzzling her cheek against his family coat of arms.

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Chapter One Hundred and Fifteen

“I would… if our bed at his house wasn’t twice the size and three times as comfortable.” Gen hummed in approval. “With a balcony overlooking the valley and ocean in the distance.” Gen hummed louder. His breath brushed against her ear. “A full staff at our beck and call with a five–star chef and a pool complete with a waterfall feature.”

Gen pushed up on her elbows. She raised one brow. “Hot tub?”

He smiled. “A big one.”

“Andiamo,” Gen said, throwing back the sheets while Matteo chuckled behind her.

How had she gotten here? Gen thought as she looked out the window at the passing Italian countryside. She glanced over at her fiance, a mafia man with eyes

that when they glanced over to see why she was suddenly staring at him made her stomach quiver with nerves and anticipation for his next touch. He took the hand he had been holding between his own, raised it to his lips and kissed the back of it before he settled his right arm behind her. Matteo answered

Alessio’s questions in Italian, using large words she had no hope of translating. She shook her head and went back to looking at the landscape: the sound of

spoken Italian filled her ears, the touch of her love’s thumb stroked her flat stomach, her heart full to exploding.

The estate sprung up out of nowhere. One moment she was watching the slow rise and fall of Italian hills, the next they were pulling up to towering

Wrought iron gates. She sat forward as six burly guards with large guns strapped to their chests stood at attention. Two men walked beside the car with

mirrors hanging low as they checked the undercarriage of the car for devices… She didn’t want to think about what kind.

The car pulled through the gates and continued slowly down a long gravel road. There was not just the one, obnoxiously large mansion. There were several

houses dotting the hills around it. She could make out a tennis court, horse stables, expansive rows of grapes, and an orchard all before they circled around

the front of the mansion where the rest of their party waited. Gen stared up at the house with her mouth open until Matteo opened her door and took her

hand to help her out.

“Right?!” Jada squealed, being held back by Louis to keep her from launching herself at Gen like she had when they’d met at the airport.

“These are a few of my staff,” Alessio said, his voice one notch below being bored enough to stifle a yawn. “They’ll show you to your rooms. We are preparing lunch out on the veranda,” he mentioned with a gesture toward the rear of the house. “Settle in and when you’re ready we can meet there. Then…” Alessio gave Matteo a pointed look as if what he really wanted was to speak with him immediately rather than wanting to be polite to his other

guests.

“Come along, Weakness,” Matteo whispered. “We don’t need help finding where we need to go.”

“Lead the way,” she said with a smile, looping her arm through his as he guided her up the stairs.

As they walked through the halls, Gen’s eyes ate up every detail from the ancient wallpaper with designs as small as her thumb to the painted ceilings featuring baby–like angels and larger–than–life prophets. She ran her fingers over the thick, heavy curtains draped alongside windows and gawked at the fossils displayed in glass cases. All the while Matteo watched her: taking in her every microexpression, smiling at each gasp, tightening his grip when she threatened to meander off toward something else she’d noticed.

They came to a door that stood ten feet tall and Gen eagerly waited for Matteo to push it open. She stepped inside, dropping Matteo’s arm as she looked around their bedroom. There was a large four poster bed. Thick, soft rugs covered the stone floors. A giant wooden wardrobe that looked to be over a hundred years old stood with its door open, revealing several expensive suits and even more impressive gowns. A fireplace large enough for her and Matteo to live in had a crackling fire already lit and she was assailed with images of them pulling blankets up beside it and licking chocolate off each other. She noticed a door leading to a bathroom but she was never one to care what that room looked like. No, she wanted to see what lay behind the french doors just

ahead.

Gen walked forward, ignoring how Matteo was already shucking off his jacket and undoing his cufflinks. She pushed the doors open the rest of the way and gasped as a soft breeze brought the scent of salt and earth through her hair and along her skin. Goosebumps covered every inch of her body as she placed her palms against the stone railing.

Their room was at the back of the house and she couldn’t see any other balconies from her perch. The balcony was large enough to have a sofa along with a

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Chapter One Hundred and Fifteen

table and two stools. She looked out at the ocean twinkling in the distance as if the water was reflecting the sun in the hopes of calling her home. A moment later she felt Matteo’s heat against her back and his hands wrapped around the railing beside hers. He brushed his nose against her shoulder and

sighed in contentment.

“Do we have to go back?” she whispered as if it were only a mirage and speaking too loud would shatter the facade.

Matteo chuckled softly. “The sun rises just over there and the sunset… breathtaking,” Matteo whispered against her skin.

“I don’t think I have breath left for it to take,” she said, her voice a breathy whisper, illustrating her point. She turned in his arms and looped her hands around his neck. He leaned her back against the railing and kissed her. “What’s the plan, Matteo? Why did we come here so suddenly?” she asked.

They’d never had a chance to talk on the plane. She knew there was a reason to his sudden urgency to leave the country. Despite the fact that he’d made all

the arrangements for her work and his, she was not one to just go along without explanation.

“Well,” he began, trying to wrangle the hair from her face as the breeze picked up. “There are a few reasons. I needed to meet with Alessio to discuss a few things. I wanted to take you away so we could celebrate all of our wonderful news away from the city. And, there are customs to consider.”

“Customs?” she asked with a raised brow.

Matteo nodded. “It’s tradition that we marry in Italy. If that works for you.”

Gen glanced around at the scenery and smiled back at him, surprised he’d have to ask. “I suppose I could muster the excitement to marry you here. I guess we need to start planning sooner rather than later. Many venues and caterers book up years in advance.”

Matteo tilted his head from side to side. “That’s true,” he argued. His smile broadened and he pulled her closer. “If I was willing to wait that long to call you my wife.”

She narrowed her eyes in suspicion. “When were you thinking? Six months?”

Matteo pursed his lips. “Two days,” he whispered, his golden eyes measuring her reaction. Gen’s mouth parted at his words and he succeeded in stealing the rest of the breath from her lungs. “I want to marry you in two days, Weakness.”