Shadow Fire (A Shadow Riders Novel, Band 7) - Softcover

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Christine Feehan is the #1 New York Times bestselling author of the Carpathian series, the GhostWalker series, the Leopard series, the Shadow series and the Torpedo Ink series.

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Chapter One

Clearly I should have invested in pizzerias instead of strip joints and sex clubs."

Elie Archambault paused in the act of bringing a slice of pizza dripping with cheese, salami and olives to his mouth, staring at the speaker before he burst out laughing. "No one makes pizza the way Tito and his father, Benito, do. There isn't a pizzeria in the world that can top this one, right, Emme?"

Emmanuelle Ferraro Saldi reached over and casually grabbed the slice of pizza from his hand and took a bite, nodding to agree with him.

"Hey. That's the last piece of salami and olive," Elie protested. "Dario," he added, "you shouldn't talk about strip joints and sex clubs in front of Emmanuelle."

Dario Bosco rolled his eyes. "Emme frequents strip joints and sex clubs. She knows more about what goes on in them then I do."

Emmanuelle ignored the statement, making moaning noises deliberately as she ate the slice of pizza, and hastily gathered up the remaining olives that were loose on the platter.

Elie shoved his shoulder into hers. "You're a demon, woman. I don't know how your husband puts up with you."

"He thinks she's an angel," Dario said, feigned disgust in his voice.

Emmanuelle wasn't in the least bit fazed. She continued to eat the slice of pizza as if she was enjoying it immensely-which she was.

"Val never did have good sense that I could see," Elie said.

Emme kicked him under the table.

Elie laughed. "We need our waitress back so we can order more pizza, but there're so many people in here, I don't think we'll ever see her again."

Petrov's Pizzeria was packed, as it always was regardless of the day of the week. Saturday nights just happened to double the traffic. Fortunately, Benito always reserved two large booths, back in the shadows, for the Ferraro family and their bodyguards, just in case they decided to drop in.

Ferraro territory started right on the edge of what some people referred to as "Little Italy." Most of the land, businesses and homes were rented or leased by the Ferraro family. All were protected by them. For years it was whispered that if one went to the Ferraros with a problem, that problem would inexplicably disappear.

Rumors swirled around the mysterious family, six brothers and one sister. They always wore their signature pinstriped suits and were often surrounded by bodyguards, although no one ever thought they needed them. Wealthy, arrogant and formidable, the members of the Ferraro family were known to be lethal if crossed.

Now, after Emmanuelle Ferraro, the youngest and only female, had married a Saldi, uniting the two families, the neighborhood was doubly safe. The Saldi family was a crime family, no two ways about it. No guessing. No rumors. Valentino headed the Saldi family now that his father, Giuseppi, had stepped down after his own brother had tried to assassinate him and take over. The neighborhood might not know why the Ferraros had helped the Saldi family, but Elie knew. He'd helped when Val had worked to bring down his uncle's human trafficking ring.

"You sure you want to go through with this marriage of yours?" Dario asked Elie. "You haven't even seen this woman."

"Yes." Elie's reply was clipped, indicating he didn't want to continue the discussion.

Dario sighed. "Since I can't talk you out of it, at least come to the club tonight. It's your last night of freedom before you're stuck with some woman who might have a fucking headache every night."

"Dario." Emmanuelle sat up straight, glaring at him in protest.

"Some men have certain needs, Emme," Dario said, shrugging. "I'm not going to pretend I don't, and I won't apologize for who I am. Arranged marriages for business or otherwise rarely work for someone like me because the woman isn't going to like who they get. I'm just being honest."

"You're suggesting that Elie go out to a kink club the night before he marries. Is that very honorable?" Emmanuelle demanded.

"It's a moot point," Elie interrupted the argument.

Emmanuelle was the tie that bound the two men together. Elie regarded her as a sister. He had grown up an only child, moving from one household to another in his native France. Elie and Emme had clicked some years earlier and everyone expected them to marry when he'd come to the United States. Emmanuelle's heart was already taken by Valentino Saldi, Dario's cousin. Elie loved Emme but there had only ever been a sibling relationship between them.

Dario had come to love her through his relationship with Valentino. Who couldn't love Emmanuelle? Dario wasn't an easy man to be around. He had served as Valentino's bodyguard for years. He rarely talked to anyone outside the circle of people he accepted as family. Elie felt lucky to be included. The Ferraros had a way of taking over those they chose to bring into their inner circle and Dario, like Elie, had found his way in when Emmanuelle had married Val.

"A moot point?" Emme repeated, raising an eyebrow suspiciously.

Elie held up his left hand, where a ring circled his finger. "Technically, I'm already married. The lawyers took care of the paperwork and we were married by proxy yesterday. I signed here. She signed in France. So, no kink club, but thank you for the offer, Dario. It was considerate. I don't cheat on my wife."

"What does she look like?" Dario asked.

Elie shrugged. "I have no idea. The lawyers took care of it. I didn't even look at the papers. I signed on the dotted line and walked away. I presume she did the same. She'll be here tomorrow and we'll have a very brief private ceremony just for the sake of photos and formality, but the paperwork is already done."

Emmanuelle brushed her hand down his arm. "Congratulations, Elie. I hope she makes you very happy. I know you believe you can make this work."

Dario's dark brows drew together. "Won't understand you in a million years, Elie. This complete stranger comes into your life. You don't know a thing about her and you expect your marriage to work. Emme is one in a million. Maybe one in a billion. Odds could be even higher than that. Val is so fuckin' lucky, he doesn't even know how lucky he is."

He stated his opinion without looking at Emmanuelle and he spoke in a flat, matter-of-fact tone. "I'm aware a man like me is never going to find a woman who can put up with my . . . proclivities." He shrugged. "But then I don't trust anyone enough to have more than an hour encounter with them and only on my terms, especially now that Valentino forced me to take over this idiotic role in the family. He's only made my suspicious nature worse."

"Your point being?" Elie said.

"You're like me."

Elie couldn't deny it. Maybe he wasn't exactly like Dario. He wasn't nearly as dark. He didn't know too many people who were. Dario had demons. Elie liked his way and he knew how to get it. He already knew he intended for his bride to learn that lesson about him very quickly. He'd been honest in every answer he'd given to the questions asked of him when filling out the pages and pages of very explicit material needed for his arranged marriage. He had her answers and she had his. She should know that about him and what he expected of her.

He had read her answers dozens of times and knew what she expected of him. He had her sexual answers laminated and put up on the master bedroom wall right over the...