Читать книгу Love Islands: Swept Away - Дженнифер Хейворд, Natalie Anderson - Страница 13
ОглавлениеROMEO WATCHED SEVERAL expressions chase over her face.
‘What does that mean?’ she asked, her blue eyes narrowing before she cast another alarmed glance at the burly men guarding the park.
He followed her apprehensive gaze and indicated sharply at his men when he saw that other parents were beginning to notice their presence. The men melted into the shadows, but the look didn’t dissipate from Maisie’s face. When her hand tightened imperceptibly on Gianlucca’s shoulder, Romeo’s insides tightened.
‘My hotel is ten minutes away. We’ll talk there.’ He tried not to let the irony of his statement cloud the occasion. He’d said similar words to her five years ago, an invitation that had ended with him reeling from the encounter.
That invitation had now brought him to this place, to his son. He had no doubt in his mind that the child was his. Just as he had no doubt that he would claim him, and protect him from whatever schemes Lorenzo had up his sleeves. Beyond that, he had no clue what his next move was. He didn’t doubt, though, that he would find a way to triumph. He’d dragged himself from the tough streets of Palermo to the man he was today. He didn’t intend to let anything stand in the way of what he desired.
He focused to find her shaking her head. ‘I can’t.’
Romeo’s eyes narrowed as a hitherto thought occurred to him. ‘You can’t? Why not?’ He realised then how careless he’d been. Because Lorenzo’s pictures had shown only Maisie with his son, Romeo had concluded that she was unattached. But those pictures were four years old. A lot could have happened in that time. She could’ve taken another lover, a man who had perhaps become important enough to see himself as Gianlucca’s father.
The very idea made him see red for one instant. ‘Is there someone in your life?’ He searched her fingers. They were ringless. But that didn’t mean anything these days. ‘A lover, perhaps?’ The word shot from his mouth like a bullet.
Her eyes widened and she glanced down at Gianlucca, but he was engrossed in feeding the last of the bread to the ducks. ‘I don’t have a lover or a husband, or whatever the au fait term is nowadays.’
Romeo attributed the relief that poured through him to not having to deal with another tangent in this already fraught, woefully ill-planned situation. ‘In that case there shouldn’t be a problem in discussing this further at my hotel.’
‘That wasn’t why I refused to come with you. I have a life to get on with, Romeo. And Lucca has a schedule that I try to keep to so his day isn’t disrupted, otherwise he gets cranky. I need to fix his dinner in half an hour and put him to bed so I can get back to the restaurant.’
He stiffened. ‘You go to work after he’s asleep?’
Her mouth compressed. ‘Not every night, but yes. I live above the restaurant and my assistant manager lives in the flat next door. She looks after him on the nights I work.’
‘That is unacceptable.’
Her eyes widened with outrage. ‘Excuse me?’ she hissed.
‘From now on you will not leave him in the care of strangers.’
Hurt indignation slid across her face. ‘If you knew me at all, you’d know leaving my son with some faceless stranger is the last thing I’d do! Bronagh isn’t a stranger. She’s my friend as well as my assistant. And how dare you tell me how to raise my son?’
He caught her shoulders and tugged her close so they wouldn’t be overheard. ‘He is our son,’ he rasped into her ear. ‘His safety and well-being have now become my concern as much as yours, gattina.’ The endearment slipped out again, but he deemed it appropriate, so he didn’t allow the tingle that accompanied the term to disturb him too much. ‘Put your claws away and let’s take him back to your flat. You’ll feed him and put him to bed and then we’ll talk, sì?’
He pulled back and looked down at her, noting her hectic colour and experiencing that same punch to his libido that had occurred earlier.
Dio, he needed this added complication like a bullet in the head.
He dropped his hand once she gave a grudging nod.
‘Lucca, it’s time to go,’ she called out.
‘One more minute!’ came his son’s belligerent reply.
A tight, reluctant smile curved Maisie’s lips, drawing Romeo’s attention to their pink plumpness. ‘He has zero concept of time and yet that’s his stock answer every time you try to get him away from something he loves doing.’
‘I’ll bear that in mind,’ he answered.
He glanced at his son and that sucker-punch feeling slammed into him again. It’d first happened when Gianlucca had slid his hand into his. Romeo had no term for it. But it was alive within him, and swelling by the minute.
Unthinking questions crowded his mind. Like when had Gianlucca taken his first step? What had been his first word?
What was his favourite thing to do besides feeding greedy ducks?
He stood, stock-still, as a plan began to formulate at the back of his mind. A plan that was uncharacteristically outlandish.
But wasn’t this whole situation outlandish in the extreme?
And hadn’t he learned that sometimes it was better to fight fire with fire?
The idea took firmer root, embedding itself as the only viable course available to him if he was to thwart the schemes of Lorenzo Carmine and Agostino Fattore.
The more Romeo thought about the plans the old men, in their bid to hang on to their fast-crumbling empire, had dared to lay out for him, the more rage threatened to overcome him. He’d tempered that rage with caution, not forgetting that a wounded animal was a dangerous animal. Fattore’s lieutenant might be old, and his power weakened, but Romeo knew that some power was better than no power to people like Lorenzo. And they would hang on to it by every ruthless means available.
Romeo didn’t intend to lower his guard where Lorenzo’s wily nature was concerned. His newly discovered son’s safety was paramount. But even if Lorenzo and the shadows of Romeo’s past hadn’t been hanging over him, he would still proceed with the plan now fully formed in his mind.
He followed Maisie as she approached and caught up Gianlucca’s hand. ‘Time to go, precious.’ The moment he started to protest, she continued, ‘Which do you prefer for your tea, fish fingers or spaghetti and meatballs?’
‘Spaghetti balls,’ the boy responded immediately, his mind adeptly steered in the direction of food, just as his mother had intended. He danced between them until they reached the gate.
Romeo noticed his men had slipped into the security SUV parked behind his limo and nodded at the driver who held the door open. He turned to help his son into the car and saw Maisie’s frown.
‘Do you happen to have a car seat in there?’ she asked.
Romeo cursed silently. ‘No.’
‘In that case, we’ll meet you back at the restaurant.’ She turned and started walking down the street.
He shut the door and fell into step beside her. ‘I’ll walk back with you.’
She opened her mouth to protest but stopped when he took his son’s hand. The feel of the small palm against his tilted Romeo’s world.
He hadn’t known or expected this reality-changing situation when he’d walked into that mansion in Palermo yesterday. But Romeo was nothing if not a quick study. His ability to harness a situation to his advantage had saved his life more times on the street than he could recount. He wasn’t in a fight-to-the-death match right now, but he still intended to emerge a winner.
* * *
Maisie’s first priority when she’d decorated her flat was homey comfort, with soft furnishings and pleasant colours to make the place a safe and snug home for her son. But as she opened the door and walked through the short hallway that connected to the living room she couldn’t help but see it through Romeo’s eyes. The carpet was a little worn, one cushion stained with Lucca’s hand paint. And suddenly, the yellow polka-dot curtains seemed a little too bright, like something a girlie girl would choose, instead of the sophisticated women Romeo Brunetti probably dated.
What did it matter?
She turned, prepared to show her pride in her home, and found him frozen in front of the framed picture collage above her TV stand. Twelve pictures documented various key stages of Lucca’s life so far, from his scrunched-up hours-old face to his first Easter egg hunt two months ago.
Romeo stared at each one with an intensity that bordered on the fanatic. Then he reached out and traced his fingers over Lucca’s first picture, the tremor in his hand hard to miss.
‘I have digital copies...if you’d like them,’ she ventured.
He turned. The naked emotion in his eyes momentarily stopped her breath.
‘Grazie, but I don’t think that would be necessary.’
Her heart stopped as the fear she hadn’t wanted to fully explore bloomed before her eyes. ‘What does that mean?’ she asked, although she risked him further exploiting the rejection he’d just handed her.
‘It means there are more important things to discuss than which pictures of my son I would like copies of.’
Lucca chose that moment to announce his hunger.
Maisie glanced at Romeo, questions warring with anger inside her.
She didn’t want to leave her son now that she knew Romeo was preparing to back away. Especially since there was also the outside threat evidenced by the bodyguards in the SUV that had crawled behind them as they’d walked back. He travelled with too much security for a garden-variety billionaire.
That knowledge struck fear into her heart that she couldn’t dismiss.
‘Go and make his meal, Maisie,’ Romeo said.
The taut command in his voice jerked her spine straight.
‘I’d rather take him into the kitchen with me.’
‘Is that your normal routine?’ he queried with narrowed eyes.
‘No, normally he likes to watch his favourite children’s TV show while I cook.’
Romeo gave a brisk nod. ‘Go, then. I’ll find a way of entertaining him,’ he replied.
‘What do you know about entertaining children?’ she demanded fiercely.
His jaw clenched. ‘Even rocket science has been mastered. Besides, you’ll be in the next room. What could go wrong?’
Everything.
The word blasted through her head. She opened her mouth to say as much but saw Lucca staring with keen interest at them. The last thing she wanted was for her son to pick up the dangerous undercurrents in the room.
Romeo watched her for a minute, clench-jawed. ‘Are there any other exits in the flat, besides the front door?’
Maisie frowned. ‘There’s a fire escape outside my bedroom.’
‘Is it locked?’
‘Yes.’
‘Okay.’ He strode out and she followed him into the hallway. She watched him lock and take out the key and return to her. ‘Now you can be assured that I won’t run off with him while your back is turned. I’ll also keep conversation to a minimum so I don’t inadvertently verbally abuse him. Are you satisfied?’
Her fingers curled around the key, and she refused to be intimidated. ‘That works. I won’t be long. The meatballs are already done... I just need to cook the pasta.’
Romeo nodded and looked to where Lucca knelt on the floor surrounded by a sea of Lego. He shrugged off his overcoat and draped it over the sofa. Maisie watched him advance towards Lucca, his steps slow and non-threatening, to crouch next to him.
Lucca looked up, smiled and immediately scooped up a handful of Lego and held it out to him.
Maisie backed out, fighting the tearing emotions rampaging through her. Admonishing herself to get her emotions under control, she rushed into the kitchen and set about boiling water for the spaghetti, all the while trying to dissect what the presence of the bodyguards meant.
Surely if Romeo was in some sort of trouble the Internet search would’ve picked it out? Or was she blowing things out of proportion? Was she wrong about billionaires travelling with that much security? She frowned at the total excess of it. And what about Romeo’s explanation that his business associates had found Lucca? From her time as a lawyer, Maisie knew deep background checks had become par for the course during business deals, but from Romeo’s expression in the park, she couldn’t help feeling there was more.
Her heart hammered as horrific possibilities tumbled through her mind. The world was a dangerous place. Even in a picturesque haven like Ranelagh, she couldn’t guarantee that she would always be able to keep Lucca safe.
She froze at the sink. Had she invited danger in by letting Romeo Brunetti through her front door? Or had he been right when he’d told her she’d instinctively trusted him in Palermo or she’d never have gone up to his suite that day?
She must have on some level, surely, or she’d never have given him her virginity so easily.
Stop!
The only way to find out what was going on was to talk to Romeo. That wouldn’t happen unless she stopped dawdling and got on with it.
She fixed Lucca’s meal and set it up in the dining nook attached to her kitchen. Seeing Romeo sprawled on his side on the living-room floor stopped her in her tracks. Between father and son, they’d built a giant castle and were debating where to station the knights, with Lucca in favour of ground sentry duty and Romeo advocating turret guards.
He sensed her watching and looked up. Again Maisie was struck by the determination on his face.
And again, he shuttered the look and handed the knight to Lucca.
Maisie cleared her throat before she could speak. ‘Lucca, your food’s ready.’
‘One more minute!’
Romeo lifted an eyebrow and gave a mock shudder. ‘Do you enjoy cold spaghetti, Gianlucca?’
Lucca shook his head. ‘No, it tastes yucky.’
‘Then I think you should eat yours now before it turns yucky, sì?’
‘See what?’ Lucca asked, his eyes wide and enquiring.
Romeo reached out and hesitantly touched his son’s hair. ‘Sì means yes in Italian,’ he said gruffly.
‘Are you Ita...Itayan? Mummy said I’m half Itayan.’
Romeo’s eyes flicked to Maisie for a moment, then returned to his son. ‘Yes, she’s right. She’s also waiting for you to go eat your dinner.’ A quiet, firm reminder that brought Lucca to his feet.
He whizzed past her and climbed into his seat at the small dining table. He barely waited for Maisie to tuck his bib into place before he was tearing into his spaghetti.
Romeo leaned against the doorjamb, a peculiar look on his face as he absorbed Lucca’s every action.
Then he turned and looked at her, and her heart caught. Nothing could keep down the geyser of apprehension that exploded through her at what that absorbed look on Romeo’s face meant for her and her son.
In that moment, Maisie knew that nothing she said or did would stop what was unravelling before her eyes. It didn’t matter whether Romeo loved his son or not, he would do exactly as he’d said in her office this morning.
Romeo Brunetti had every intention of claiming his son.
* * *
Maisie entered the living room and paused to watch Romeo’s broad frame as he looked out of the window at the street below. With the endless horrific thoughts that had been tumbling through her mind for the past three hours, she wondered if he was just pavement-watching or if there was some unseen danger lurking out there.
He turned and her breath caught at the intensity in his face, the dangerous vibe surrounding his body. Wanting to get this over with quickly, she walked further into the living room.
‘He’s out like a light. When he’s worn out like that, he won’t wake until morning.’ Maisie wondered why she’d been dropping little morsels like this all evening. Then she realised it was because Romeo voraciously lapped up each titbit about his son.
Because a part of her hoped that, by doing so, she could get him to rethink whatever he was plotting for Lucca’s future? Did she really think she could turn Romeo’s fascination with their son into love?
Love couldn’t be forced. Either it was there or it wasn’t. Her parents had been incapable of it. They’d cared only for their academic pursuits and peer accolades. None of that love had spilled to her.
She balled her fists. She would rather Romeo absented himself completely than dangle fatherhood in front of her son, only to reject him later. ‘You wanted to talk?’ she ventured. The earlier they laid things out in the open, the quicker she could get back to the status quo.
Romeo nodded in that solemn way he sometimes did, then remained silent and still, his hands thrust into his pockets. He continued to watch her, dark hazel eyes tracking her as she straightened the cushions and packed away the toys.
Too soon she was done. Silence filled the room and her breath emerged in short pants as she became painfully aware that they were alone, that zing of awareness spreading wider in the room.
She realised she was fidgeting with her fingers and resolutely pulled them apart. ‘I don’t mean to hurry this along, but can we just get it over—’
‘Sit down, Maisie.’
She wanted to refuse. Just on principle because she wouldn’t be ordered about in her own home, but something in his face warned her she needed to sit for what was coming.
Heart slamming into her ribcage, she perched on the edge of the sofa. He took the other end, his large body turned towards her so their knees almost touched. Again awareness of just how big, how powerfully built he was, crowded her senses. Her gaze dropped to his hands, large with sleek fingers. She recalled how they’d made her feel, how the light dusting of hair on the back had triggered delicious shivers in her once upon a time.
A different tremble powered up her spine.
Maisie gave herself a silent shake. This wasn’t the time to be falling into a pool of lust. She’d been there, done that, with this man. And look where it had got her.
Look where she was now, about to be given news she instinctively knew would be life-changing.
She glanced up at him. His hazel eyes probed, then raked her face, and his nostrils flared slightly, as if he, too, was finding it difficult to be seated so close to her without remembering what they’d done to each other on a hot September night in Palermo five years ago. His gaze dropped to her throat, her breasts, and she heard his short intake of breath.
‘Romeo...’
He balled his fists on top of his thighs and his chest expanded in a long inhalation. ‘You’re right about the bodyguards. I normally only travel with two members of my security team.’
Her stomach hollowed out. ‘Why...why the increase?’
‘It’s just a precaution at this stage.’
‘What does that mean?’ she demanded. ‘Precaution against what?’
‘It means neither you nor Gianlucca are in danger at the moment.’
‘But you’re expecting us to be at some point?’ Her voice had risen with her escalating fear and the shaking had taken on a firmer hold.
He shook his head. ‘You don’t need to panic—’
‘Oh, really? You tell me my son could be in danger and then tell me not to panic?’ she blurted, all the different scenarios she’d talked herself out of tumbling back again. She brushed her hands over her arms as cold dread drowned her.
‘I meant, there was no need to panic because I’ll ensure your safety,’ he said.
‘Safety from what?’ When he remained silent, she jumped to her feet and paced the small living room. ‘I think you should start from the beginning, Romeo. Who are these people and what do they want with you? With our son?’ She froze. ‘Are you involved in...in criminal activity?’ she whispered in horror.
His mouth compressed and his face set into harsh, determined lines. ‘No, I am not.’
The scathing force of the words prompted her to believe him. But the fear didn’t dissipate. ‘Please tell me what’s going on.’
He rose, too, and paced opposite her. When his fists clenched and unclenched a few times, she approached. At the touch of her hand on his arm, he jerked, as if he’d been elsewhere.
As he stared down at her, his mouth compressed. ‘My past isn’t what you’d call a white-picket-fence fairy tale,’ he said obliquely.
Maisie attempted a smile. ‘Only the books I read to Lucca contain those. Real life is rarely that way.’
A grim smile crossed his lips. ‘Unfortunately, mine was a little more dire than that.’
She kept quiet, mostly because she didn’t know how to respond.
‘The man whose blood runs through my veins was the head of a Sicilian organised crime family.’
She gasped, then stepped back as the import of the words sank in. ‘You’re a member of a Mafia gang?’
‘No, I’m not.’ Again that scathing denial.
‘But your...your father is?’
‘He wasn’t my father. We just share the same DNA,’ he bit out in a harsh tone that spoke of anger, bitterness and harrowing pain.
Maisie’s eyes widened. As if aware of how he’d sounded, Romeo breathed deeply and slid his fingers through his hair. ‘The abbreviated story is that I met him twice. Both times ended...badly. What I didn’t know until yesterday was that he’d kept tabs on me all my life.’
‘Why?’ she demanded.
Romeo shrugged. ‘Since I didn’t know the man, I can only guess it was some sort of power-trip thing to watch whether I failed or succeeded. Or it may have been for other reasons. I care very little about what his motives were.’
Maisie frowned. ‘You talked about him in the past tense...because...’
‘He and his family died in a yacht explosion a year ago.’
The rush of blood from her head made her light-headed. ‘Was it an accident?’ she asked, her lips numb.
His mouth pursed for a few seconds before he answered, ‘Officially. But probably not.’
Her gasp brought his head up. Cursing under his breath, he strode to her and grasped her arms. ‘I’m only going by what my gut tells me, Maisie. I don’t have hard evidence to the contrary.’
‘And your gut tells you he was assassinated?’
He nodded.
A million more questions crowded her brain, but she forced a nod. ‘Go on.’
His hands moved to her shoulders, a firm glide that left a trail of awareness over her skin. ‘I received a letter from his lawyers a month ago, summoning me to Palermo, which I ignored. I received a few more after that. The last one told me he’d left me something I needed to collect in person.’ His mouth twisted. ‘My curiosity got the better of me.’
‘What was it?’
‘His monstrosity of a mansion. Along with his plans for my future.’
Ice slithered down her spine. ‘What plans?’
One hand moved to her neck and cupped her nape. The familiarity of that gesture thawed the ice a little, replacing her terror with a wave of warm awareness.
‘He never had a son...not a legitimate one anyway. I think somewhere along the line he intended to contact me, bring me into the family business. He just never got the chance to. But he told his second in command about it. He was the one who asked the lawyers to contact me.’
‘What does he want from you?’
‘The famiglia is falling apart. They need a new injection of young blood, and an even greater need for an injection of financial support.’
‘You have both.’
‘But I intend to give them neither.’
Maisie stared at his granite-hard face, the deep grooves bracketing his mouth and the dark gold of his eyes, and the pennies finally tumbled into place. ‘But if you don’t intend to... Oh, my God. You think they mean to use Lucca to make you do what they want?’ she rasped in a terror-stricken voice.
His grip tightened and one finger caught her chin and raised her face to his spear-sharp gaze. Her stomach knotted at the savage determination on his face. ‘They will never get their hands on you or our son. You have my word on this, Maisie.’
She shook her head, her insides growing colder by the second. ‘But you can’t guarantee that, can you? Or you wouldn’t be here with six bodyguards in tow.’
‘There’s one way to ensure your safety,’ he said, his gaze raking her face as if he wanted to pull the answer from her even before he’d asked the question.
‘What’s that?’ she murmured.
‘You will marry me. Then you and our son will know the protection of my name.’
