Page 233 of Bishop
“We have our reasons.”
“No.” He leans close, his mouth a breath from mine. “You have excuses.”
“It’s only been a few months. Don’t you want more time to know what you’re committing yourself to?”
“Belladonna, I knew you were the one the moment you laid me on my ass the night of the gala. There will never be anyone else.”
My lips curve upward at the memory—the good that came from the incredibly bad. “How can I marry you when I still don’t know your last name?”
He stiffens, growing tense like he always does with this conversation. “I’ve told you I don’t have a last name. I disowned my family a long time ago.”
Yes, he’s told me. We’ve spent hours talking about his past, and he’s spent days getting to know mine. We’ve exchanged weaknesses and exposed flaws. No skeletons have remained hidden in either of our closets.
But through it all, he’s refused to acknowledge the people who created him, which I understand. The problem is, it leaves an empty space on the marriage certificate he’s trying to get me to sign. Especially when I no longer want to harbor the reminder of my parents with my surname either.
“You can pick a surname for us both,” he offers. “And I’ll bear it with pride.”
My breath catches at the way this conversation is going exactly how I anticipated. My eagerness to fix broken bridges increases my pulse.
“Pick a name,” he repeats, his mouth closing in on mine, his hands sliding to the waistband of my pants
“Any name?” I ask, already breathless.
He lowers the zipper at my crotch, one palm delving beneath my panties, his deft fingertips eagerly finding my clit. “Any fucking name, belladonna. I don’t care as long as you’re mine.”
“Cappelletti.” I gasp, our noses nuzzling as I drag my lips over his for a teasing kiss.
He freezes. Pulls back.
He looks at me with narrowed eyes, as if understanding he’s just fallen into a trap.
“That’s the name I want,” I whisper.
His tattered relationship with my uncle is the only thing left to fix.
My parents have been dealt with. My brothers are safe. The wealth I’m owed will soon be mine. And I have my beautiful daughter, her past without me now never having existed as far as the authorities are concerned due to a mass of illegal paperwork and database tampering by Najeeb.
Bishop and Lorenzo’s relationship is the only thing left to repair, despite Bishop’s unwillingness to move on from the betrayal.
He doesn’t know how to forgive and forget. He’s never been taught.
“He’s your family.” I cup his cheek, my thumb brushing the scar hidden beneath his beard. “You need him in your life.”
His chin hitches. “You’ll marry me if I take his name?”
With or without the name, it doesn’t matter. But I want this for him. To help him mend something he’s too stubborn to fix.
“Yes.” I nod. “I will.”
“From a Costa to a Cappelletti?” He raises a brow, his fingers sliding back and forth over my clit. “You realize people might think you’ve married a relative.”
I chuckle, tilting my hips to gain more friction, grabbing his shoulders for leverage. “I don’t care.”
His mouth dives toward my neck as he tugs at my scarf, dragging it off my shoulder, while his other hand continues enslaving my sex. “Why am I not surprised at this trickery?”
“Because you know me.” I kiss his cheek, moaning against his stunning scar while two fingers plunge inside me. “And you know I want nothing more than to make you happy.”
“You do make me happy.” He grinds into me. Kissing. Licking. Grappling. “Now get to work taking off those clothes. You’ve got less than twenty minutes to fuck me like you’re single, belladonna. Because come tomorrow, you’ll be fucking me as my wife.”
