The Italian's Doorstep Surprise

Reaching out, Nico yanked the rifle away in a swift, easy movement. For a moment, the old man stared at him, shocked and outraged.

Backing up a step, Nico held the rifle almost casually, pointing it upward. “I take your point, Mr. Burke. I believe we can come to some arrangement.”

“Arrangement?” Those bushy gray eyebrows shook. But it wasn’t just his eyebrows, Nico realized. The man’s hands were shaking, as well. He was upset. And why shouldn’t he be if he truly believed his boss had coldly taken Honora’s virginity and then refused to take responsibility? “What kind of arrangement?”

Nico looked at Honora, who was watching with big eyes as rain fell, all of them so wet they might as well have been swimming in the sea. “Why don’t you come inside where it’s warm, and we can discuss it.”

The old man scowled. “If you think my granddaughter will ever accept a payoff...”

“No. If she is pregnant with my baby, there can be only one answer.” Lifting his chin, Nico looked straight at Honora’s lovely, worried face. “I will marry her.”

* * *

Honora’s jaw fell open. She felt dizzy.

Behind her, Benny Rossini, the young chauffeur, said harshly, “You don’t have to do that, Mr. Ferraro...”

But her grandfather was staring only at Nico. “Do you give me your word, sir?”

Nico Ferraro’s handsome face was deadly serious. “I do.”

“Well, then!” Her grandfather was suddenly beaming. A flash of lightning crackled in a sizzling line above them, cracking the sky. He came toward Nico, holding out his hand. “Welcome to the family.”

“Thank you,” said Nico, shaking his hand gravely, still holding the rifle upright with the other.

And just like that, it seemed, Honora’s fate was sealed.

Was she losing her mind?

“What century are we living in?” she said incredulously. She looked at Nico. “I’m not going to marry you!”

Her grandfather, whom she’d always trusted and obeyed, turned to her almost chidingly. “That’s no way to talk to your husband, little one...”

“My future husband. Which he isn’t!”

Patrick waved his hand airily. “You two kids have a lot to talk about.” Turning to Benny, he said, “We should give the happy couple time to discuss wedding plans.”

“Wedding plans?” she sputtered.

“But there’s no reason to remain out here in the cold and rain.” Nico nodded toward his sprawling Hamptons beach house. “Come inside.”

As Benny started to step forward, Patrick stopped him with his hand on his arm.

“No.” Her grandfather’s shoulders sagged in his old coat, as if he’d just aged twenty years in five seconds. “I’m exhausted, as only an old man can be. Please, Benny.” He looked at the young chauffeur plaintively. “Just take me home.”

Honora looked at her grandfather sharply. Other than a touch of arthritis, Patrick Burke was more energetic than some men half his age. Was he up to something? Or had the worry of her unwed pregnancy truly exhausted him?

“All right,” Benny said grudgingly. Turning to Honora, he said, “You coming?”

She bit her lip. She was grateful the young driver had helped her keep Granddad from harm, but she was afraid Benny felt more for her than friendship. And she’d never love him back, no matter how many times he offered to run down to the local bodega to buy her ice cream and pickles. No matter how many times he tenderly offered to marry her and be the father her baby “obviously needed.”

It annoyed her. Why was it that everyone seemed to think that just because Honora was pregnant, she was desperate for a husband? They didn’t seem to realize, as Nico had said earlier, that it was the twenty-first century!

But at least Benny’s proposal had been real. Unlike Nico’s. Setting her jaw, she tossed a glare at her baby’s father.

“Please take Granddad home, Benny. I want to stay and have a little chat with my future husband here.”

“Honora,” her grandfather said quietly, “be nice.”