Where the Wind Whispers (Seasons of Betrayal Book 3) (15 page)

But for now, he just wanted to enjoy her.

To remind himself that she was right there, sitting comfortably in the passenger seat of his Porsche. But even that wasn’t enough.

They were miles from home before he pulled over, threw the sports car in park, and snapped off her seat belt a moment before dragging her across the middle console and into his lap. A breathless laugh escaped her as she righted herself—that smile he had missed so much curling her lips.

He just needed a moment,
this
moment, to remind himself that it was all worth it.

That
she
was worth it.

Cupping her cheek, Kaz drew her face down, his gaze skimming over her cheek. He had left enough marks on her during the many nights they’d spent together to notice one, even as light as this one was. That, coupled with the torn dress under the unknown blazer she was wearing was enough to spark his temper.

Violet pulled back, just slightly, shaking her head. “It’s not worth getting upset about, Kaz.”

“Give me a name.” Already, he felt the urge to do violence to whoever had the fucking balls to lay a hand on her.

“Kaz, it’s fine.”

“Or an address. I’m not picky.”

After a brief hesitation, she finally answered. “Alberto.”

Kaz frowned, his brows arching. “Why the—”

“He found out I was pregnant. He … didn’t take it well.”

Kaz tensed. He already intended to visit the Italian next once he had everything set up, but he was more than willing to speed up those plans should there be a need. The last thing he’d ever let that man do was jeopardize his unborn child.

Reading his expression, Violet shook her head. “Don’t do something stupid, not now. I need you—
we
need you.”

She laid a hand on her stomach, drawing first his gaze there, then his hand. But it wasn’t enough for him to just lay it where hers rested. Instead, he dove beneath the fabric of the blazer and dress she was wearing until he could touch the gentle curve there.

One wouldn’t know she was carrying his child just by looking at her, but as soon as he got his hand on her, on the slight hardness there, it thrilled him in a way nothing else could.

“For now,” he said, contenting himself with the feel of her.

But it wouldn’t be long before he went after Alberto.

Not long at all.

On the surface, it seemed nothing had changed since Violet left the new home she shared with Kaz. The floors were clean, nothing was out of place, and the stainless steel refrigerator didn’t boast a single fingerprint.

A maid
, Kaz explained.

He’d hired one, apparently, or maybe it was two.

She wasn’t sure.

It wasn’t that she didn’t listen while he talked, because she did
hear
him, but Violet was somewhere else entirely. The whole situation seemed a little … surreal.

She walked back into
their
home, and it was like she never left. She’d noticed that not one thing was different when she’d walked through the halls to their bedroom to change her clothes.

Violet hadn’t expected that at all.

Maybe it was almost a little too perfect.

“Violet.”

She pulled open the refrigerator door, peering in to see what was there. Surprisingly, it was well stocked with all sorts of things. She pulled out a few items, setting them aside on the counter to make something to eat.

“Hey, we can order something in for tonight,” she heard Kaz say.

“I’d rather cook.”

“All right.”

So that’s exactly what she did. While Kaz milled about, constantly watching her and saying very little, Violet made
supper
.

Because that felt normal.

It seemed right.

Violet had just shoved the casserole dish into the oven and closed the door when Kaz came up behind her. The light press of his hand to her hip shattered the surreal sensation of Violet’s world. It brought her back from that cloud of haziness and put her feet back on the ground.

It had all happened.

It wasn’t some insane dream that she’d woken up from.

She had left—she survived—and she was back.

“Are you going to talk?” Kaz asked. “Maybe tell me what’s going on in that head of yours?”

Violet blinked, staring blankly at the light above the oven. “How often does the maid come?”

“Often enough.”

“Enough to make the place look like you haven’t lived in it?”

“The rooms are large,” Kaz said as if that should explain it all.

It didn’t.

“Who did the shopping?” Violet asked.

Because she knew Kaz sure as hell didn’t.

The man would live off takeout.

He didn’t cook.

“Violet,” Kaz said, his hand on her hip pressing firmly enough to make her turn to face him. “Talk to me, yes?”

“I don’t …”

Kaz cocked a brow, waiting.

Violet sighed. “I don’t
know
what happened.”

“That makes two of us,
krasivaya
.” Kaz’s hands came up to cup her cheeks, his palms warm and soothing. She couldn’t stop the smile starting to form as his thumbs stroked her skin softly. Sweet. Familiar.
Home
. “And I happened to get you back a little sooner than expected, so I’m not going to complain about whatever it is.”

She looked away, taking in the kitchen again. “You haven’t actually used this much, have you?”

“The rooms are large,” he repeated simply, “and they’re much bigger when someone is in them alone.”

Oh.

Well
…

Violet met Kaz’s gaze, and she found a million and one questions there. “I’m okay.”

“Not entirely, though.”

“It was going well,” Violet said.

“And then it wasn’t?”

“Caesar had his own plans, I think. I don’t think he’s the type to let others know what those plans are, but it worked.”

Kaz didn’t look pleased at that statement. “Do you think he’s going to be a problem in the future?”

No.

Not at all.

Violet was positive Caesar had gotten everything he wanted and more and was probably already on a plane back to Philly, ready to cause someone else more heartache and trouble. That was just the sort of person he was—he didn’t try to hide it.

“Would you have let him leave when he dropped me off if you truly thought he was a problem?” Violet asked.

Kaz chuckled. “Fair enough. Besides, I don’t want you worrying yourself over those things.”

“I’m not a wilting flower, you know.”

“Excuse me?”

Violet stood straighter, her hands coming up to tighten around Kaz’s wrists. She wanted to hold him in place like that for a moment—to keep him locked there so he could see her,
hear
her when she spoke.

Too many people didn't hear her.

Or they didn't care to.

Kaz had never been one of those people.

“I’m not so fragile that I don’t understand the things happening around me,” she told him quietly. “Don’t ever treat me like I am, Kaz.”

For a long while, he just stared at her, saying nothing.

The longer the silence stretched on, the more restless Violet became until she was shifting on her feet and wondering what in the hell Kaz was thinking. It was only when he leaned forward and pressed a hard, fast kiss to her mouth did her worries bleed away much more quickly than they had come on.

The kiss was not gentle, not soft or slow. Like he always had, he dominated with every brush of his lips over hers until her mouth opened, and his tongue snaked into find hers. For those few seconds, Violet was
spun
.

It’d been far too long since she tasted him.

Too long since they touched.

Kaz was laughing deeply when he finally pulled away, but he didn't go far. No, he rested his forehead on hers, his gaze catching hers and holding strong as he spoke. “I’m not sure where that came from—not that it isn’t valid, Violet—but I meant that given your circumstance and everything that has happened, the less stress, the better.”

It took Violet far too long to realize what he was saying.

“You mean the baby.”

“What else would I mean?”

Violet shook her head, smiling widely. “I spent the last month pretending I wasn’t pregnant, and today was the first day when I actually had to say it. Give me a break, Kaz.”

His features darkened, worry creasing his brow.

She immediately wanted to fix his concerns.

“Ask me tomorrow, okay,” she told him. “Anything—everything. We can talk about it tomorrow. I just want to be home.”

Kaz tilted his head to the side. “You are home.”

“Yeah, I’m only now starting to realize that, Kaz.”

“One thing. Tell me one thing and then we’ll leave it alone for the night and do whatever you want to do.”

“What is it?” she asked.

“Why did your father let you go?”

Violet was surprised he chose to ask that question.

Yet she wasn’t surprised at the same time.

“Because he loves me,” she said.

Kaz’s smile slipped slightly. “Violet …”

“I don’t think he loves me anymore.”

Her husband didn't have a response.

“That might be the worst thing,” she added.

“Why would it be? I love you, yes? You know I’ll do whatever I have to—”

“It’s not that, Kaz. He just doesn’t care now. Not about
me
, not unless he’s hurting me.”

That was the best way Violet knew how to explain her father’s final words.

Alberto didn't threaten
her
.

He’d threatened the things she loved.

The people that were hers.

Her
heart
, he’d said. Her
soul
.

He wanted her to hurt as she had done to him.

“It’ll be fine,” Kaz assured. “I’ll figure it out.”

Violet gave him another small smile before she leaned up on her tiptoes to kiss his mouth once more. “Tomorrow, right?”

“Tomorrow. How long does this have to cook?”

She turned, checking the casserole in the oven. “Another forty minutes or so. Why?”

Kaz was already tugging her along with him, away from the oven and out of the kitchen before he even answered. “I have something to show you.”

Though she didn’t have a choice but to follow behind, Violet laughed lightly at the sudden happiness lighting up Kaz’s usually stoic features. In the face of their crazy life, and the darkness of the unknown, he always managed to smile with her.

She made him happy—although she had never fully understood why.

It was a beautiful thing.

“Slow down,” Violet said as they rounded the stairs.

“Keep up,” he joked.

“You didn’t have Vera come in and do the whole nursery, did you?”

Kaz gave Violet a look over his shoulder. “And risk your unhappiness, no?”

“I wouldn't have been …
unhappy
.”

“We’ll do that together, Violet. Whatever you want. It’s not the nursery.”

At that point, she decided to let Kaz do whatever it was that he wanted to do. He always took a great deal of pleasure in his surprises—whenever it was that he got the chance to spring one on her. There hadn’t been many in their time together, but she was sure that was only because circumstance had prevented him from doing so.

Kaz adored her smile.

She knew he was going to work on making her keep smiling for the rest of their lives.

Violet’s worries nearly overshadowed her own happiness—
nearly
.

The thought was fleeting.

But it had been there.

And how long will our lives last
?

As fast as the thought came, it was gone, replaced by something sweet and wicked curling through her bloodstream with every beat of her heart. Kaz turned her in the hallway in front of a set of oak doors. It was one room down from where the nursery would be and not far from the master bedroom.

All she could see at that moment was him watching her.

“Go on,” he urged, nodding at the doors behind her. “Open it up and see what you think.”

Violet glanced over her shoulder. “What did you do?”

“There are too many rooms.” Kaz smirked, adding, “We won’t fill them all. There are too many guest rooms as it is, and I don’t need them all for myself. This one is yours,
krasivaya
.”

Her cheeks were starting to hurt from smiling.

It’d been the most she smiled in a month.

“A room for me, huh?” Violet asked.

“I needed something to do—to focus on and look forward to when you were back with me. It was a good distraction. Stop wasting time and open the doors.”

She gave him a kiss, lingering just long enough to feel his smirk grow into a sinful grin before she was pulling away with a wink. He gave her another one of his knowing looks, his tongue peeking out to wet his bottom lip as she turned her back to him.

Kaz wasn’t the only one between them who sometimes liked to tease.

Violet didn't hesitate to fling the doors open, and for a split second, she simply stared at the lit up space staring back at her.

There were very
few
things Violet enjoyed doing.

Hobbies were meant to keep her hands busy, but her father had always discouraged them growing up. Three years into college and she still didn't know what she wanted to do because nothing appealed to the side of her that was bored with textbooks and facts and
blah
.

But she’d gone ahead and decided to do the right thing by attempting to get some kind of education to add to her Gallucci profile.

Very few people knew what Violet truly loved doing, however.

Kaz was one of those people, and only because he shared a bed with her and listened to her pen out scribbles, stories, and poems under the lamp light at night after the day was over.