The Sicilian's Secret Son

‘If you’re not going to eat,’ he said in a mild tone, ‘you might as well talk instead and tell me what’s wrong.’

She looked up, her blue eyes bright and hard as they connected with his. A dusky pink flared along her cheekbones and her lips grew slightly pursed.

Appreciation surged. Even when angry, she was lovely. His gaze dropped to her mouth and lingered, his mind conjuring other uses for those lush, delectable lips besides eating and talking.

‘I want to take Ethan home,’ she said abruptly, halting the carnal direction of his thoughts. ‘Tomorrow.’

He lifted his eyes back to hers. Put his wine glass down. He wasn’t entirely surprised. The deterioration in her mood as soon as they’d arrived at the villa had warned him something was wrong. ‘That’s not going to happen,’ he told her, keeping his voice level.

She dropped her fork on the plate with a clatter. ‘Are Ethan and I prisoners here, Luca? Was that your plan all along? To kidnap your son?’

Luca sat back, braced his palms on the table, and spoke softly. ‘I’m going to pretend I didn’t hear that.’

‘Why?’ She crossed her arms over her chest. ‘So you can avoid answering the question?’

He ground his teeth, summoning patience. ‘You and Ethan are not prisoners here. You are free to leave whenever you wish.’ He paused. ‘Is that what you want, Annah? To take my son away before I’ve had a chance to know him?’

She shook her head. ‘Oh, no. You don’t get to lay a guilt trip on me.’

Luca exhaled through his nose. ‘I’m not trying to. I want the same thing you do—what’s best for our son.’

Annah mirrored his pose, putting her hands on the table. But hers were clenched into white-knuckled fists. ‘I’m Ethan’s mother. It’s my job to know what’s best for him. To protect him.’

‘And you don’t think I take that same responsibility seriously?’

Her eyes held his and then dropped as if she didn’t want to acknowledge that he might actually have it in him to be a decent father.

The silence stretched. Frustration gnawed at him. ‘For God’s sake, Annah. Talk to me. We need to find some middle ground here. We can’t achieve that if you won’t communicate.’

Her eyes came back to his. Accusation flashed in their sapphire depths. ‘You told me it was safe here.’

Ah. Now they were getting somewhere.

‘You and Ethan are as safe here as you would be anywhere else,’ he assured her.

The look she threw him was a blistering mix of scorn and scepticism. ‘Safe because your home is protected by ten-foot walls, men with guns and vicious dogs—one of which could have taken Ethan’s hand off this afternoon?’

‘That was never going to happen.’

‘Is that why you shouted at him?’ Her voice filled with reproach. ‘You frightened him, Luca.’

Regret burrowed into his conscience. In hindsight, his reaction had been over the top and unnecessary. The dogs were well trained and only attacked on command. His guards would never allow a child to be hurt. He knew all this, yet in that split second when his son’s hand had reached towards the Doberman’s lethal jaws, he’d reacted not rationally but with the knee-jerk protectiveness of a parent. ‘I overreacted,’ he confessed. ‘Ethan was never in any danger.’

She shook her head, unconvinced. ‘I’m sorry, but this isn’t the kind of world I want Ethan exposed to.’

He set his jaw. ‘That’s not entirely your decision to make.’

‘Excuse me?’

‘I’m his father—’

‘Who hasn’t been around for the first four years of his son’s life.’

‘Which is not my fault!’ he exploded.

Annah flinched and pulled her hands off the table. ‘It’s not mine, either,’ she whispered.

Luca ran his palm over his face and silently cursed his momentary loss of control. ‘I’m sorry. I should not have shouted.’