The Playboy of Rome

He ran to the ambulance and moved to the back. Lizzie was sitting there with a stunned look on her face. His gaze scanned her from head to foot. No blood. No bandages.

Thank goodness.

“Lizzie.”

It was all he got out before she was rushing into his arms and he nearly dropped to the roadway with relief. As his arms wrapped around her, he realized that he’d never been so scared in his entire life. If he had lost her— No, he couldn’t go there. Losing her was unimaginable.

As he held her close and felt her shake, he realized that he loved her. Not just a little. But a whole lot. In that moment, he understood the depth of love his father had felt for his mother. He’d never before been able to comprehend why his father never remarried—why his father kept all of the memories of his mother around the house. Now he understood.

Lizzie pulled back. “Dante, I’m so sorry. I...I—”

“Are you okay?” When she didn’t answer right away, his gaze moved to the paramedic. “Is she okay? Does she need to go to the hospital?”

“She refused to go to the hospital.”

Dante turned to her. “You’ve got to go. What if something is wrong?”

“It looks like she’s going to be bruised from the seat belt and a bit sore in the morning, but she should be okay.”

Lizzie patted Dante’s arm to get his attention. “He’s right. I’m fine. But...”

“But what?” If she so much as had a pain in her little finger, he was going to carry her into that ambulance himself.

“But Red isn’t in such good condition. Oh, Dante, I’m sorry...” She burst out in tears.

What did he do now? He didn’t know a thing about women and tears. He let his instincts take over as he pulled her against his chest and gently rubbed her back. “It’s okay. I’m just glad you’re okay.”

He truly meant it.

While she let her emotions flow, he realized how close he’d come to losing her in a car accident. He knew this scene. He’d lived through it with his brother. Stefano’s wife had died so tragically—so unexpectedly.

The memory sent a new cold knife of fear into Dante’s heart. He’d watched the agony his brother had endured when he’d joined the ranks of the DeFiore widowers’ club. Dante had sworn then and there that wouldn’t be him. He’d never let someone close enough to make him vulnerable. And that was exactly what was happening with Lizzie. Every moment he was with her. Every time he touched her, she got further under his skin and deeper in his heart.

He had to stop it.

He couldn’t go through this again. Because next time they both might not be so lucky.

As though sensing the change in him, Lizzie pulled back and swiped quickly at her cheeks. “Dante, I’m so sorry.”

“It’s not your fault.”

“Of course it is. I didn’t ask you... I tried. But your phone was off. And I had to hurry.”

“I had my phone switched off for the meeting.”

“I’d forgotten. Then your dad called. And there wasn’t time to wait. Then this car cut me off—”

“Slow down. Take a breath.” In her excitement she wasn’t making much sense and he was worried she might hyperventilate.

“The car—Red—it’s not drivable. They called for a flatbed.”

This was the first time he truly looked at Red. Any other time that would have been his priority. Warning bells went off in his head. He loved Lizzie more than anything in the world. When his gaze landed on the crumpled rear corner panel, he didn’t feel anything. Maybe he was numb with shock and worry after seeing Lizzie in the back of the ambulance.

She sniffled. “I can’t believe it happened. I was on my way home when this little car cut me off. I braked just in time. Before I could get moving again, I was hit from behind by that delivery truck.”

Dante’s gaze moved to the nearby white truck. The size of it was much, much larger than he’d been anticipating. The damage could have been so much worse. The thought that Lizzie could have been seriously injured...or worse hit him in the gut with a sharp jab.

“I don’t know if they can repair the car but...but I’ll pay the bill or replace it. Whatever it takes.”