When Falcone's World Stops Turning (Blood Brothers 1)

She felt unsettled and a little vulnerable after their conversation. It was another snippet Rafaele hadn’t revealed before. She put her hand into his and let him pull her out of the seat. He held it tightly all the way to the other end of the plane but Sam didn’t feel as if the gesture was meant to be romantic. On the contrary—it was meant to remind her that they had unfinished business.

* * *

Rafaele’s palazzo was as she remembered it: imposing, beautiful and impressive. The lush green gardens were stunningly landscaped. Its faintly crumbling grandeur hid opulent luxury inside. Four years ago Rafaele had still been in the process of doing it up and now it was finished.

As they approached up the grand steps Sam didn’t even notice how tense she’d become until Milo said plaintively, ‘Ow Mummy, too tight.’ She immediately relaxed her grip on his hand.

A different housekeeper from the one Sam remembered met them at the door and Rafaele introduced her as Luisa. She was soon busy directing the driver with their bags. Bridie was open-mouthed with shock and awe, and Sam felt a semi-hysterical giggle rise up, but it faded fast when she saw the stooped figure of a man with a cane approach them.

He barked out something in Italian and Sam saw Rafaele tense just a few feet ahead of her. She had that disturbing urge again to touch him, to offer some comfort.

He said curtly, ‘In English, Papa. They don’t speak Italian.’

The old man snorted and came into view. His eyes were deep set and so dark they looked black, staring out from a strong face lined with age and disappointment.

Milo was clutching Sam now and she lifted him up.

‘Well?’ Umberto growled. ‘Where is my grandson?’

Hesitantly Sam moved forward to stand beside Rafaele. She felt him snake an arm around her waist and didn’t like the way something within her immediately welcomed and gravitated towards the support.

‘Papa, this is Samantha Rourke, our son Milo, and Sam’s friend Bridie.’

Our son.

Sam nodded in the man’s direction. His black gaze seemed to be devouring them. He said nothing. Then, to Sam’s complete surprise, Milo squirmed to be set free and she had to put him down.

Holding her breath, Sam watched as Milo started to walk towards his grandfather. She wanted to snatch him back, as if from the jaws of danger, and even moved. But Rafaele’s hand stopped her, gripping her waist, making her über-aware of his hard body alongside hers. Even now...

Milo stopped in front of the man and asked with all the innocence of a child, ‘Why do you have a stick?’

The man just looked at him for a long moment and then barked out a laugh. ‘Dio, Rafaele, it’s like looking at you when you were that age. He’s a Falcone—no doubt about it.’

Rafaele’s hand gripped her waist so tightly now that Sam looked at him, but she could only see his hard jaw, a muscle twitching. Before she could do or say anything Rafaele had let her go and strode over to crouch down near Milo, who curled into him trustingly.

Huskily he was saying, ‘This is your grandpapa, piccolino.’

Umberto Falcone held out a hand to his grandson. ‘I am pleased to meet you.’

Milo grinned and took his hand, shaking it forcefully, making Umberto wince comically. Milo giggled and looked at Rafaele. ‘Can we play now?’

Rafaele stood up, still holding onto Milo’s hand, and something tense seemed to pass from him to his father. He said to Milo, ‘Why don’t we settle in first, hmm? We can play later.’

‘Okey-dokey.’ Milo took his hand from Rafaele’s and came back to Sam, who picked him up again.

Rafaele was now drawing her and Bridie forward to introduce them to Umberto, but gone was the joking man of moments ago. He seemed to have retreated again.

Bridie was saying politely, ‘You have a beautiful home here, Mr Falcone.’

The old man glanced at his son and said stiffly, ‘It’s not mine...it’s Rafaele’s. He bought it back after—’

‘Papa,’ Rafaele said warningly, and the man’s mouth shut.

He looked at Bridie then and said, ‘Come, let us take some refreshments and leave these young ones to settle in.’

Bridie looked at Sam, and Sam noticed that she was a bit pink in the cheeks. Sam pushed her gently in the direction where Umberto was setting off, surprisingly agile despite his cane and stooped figure. ‘Go on—sit down and have a rest. We’ll be fine.’

The housekeeper was despatching a younger woman in the direction of Umberto and Bridie with rapid Italian before leading them up the stairs herself. Sam was clinging onto Milo, afraid of the onslaught of memories lurking around each corner. She and Rafaele had made love all over this palazzo. He’d used to bring her here after work, apart from a couple of times when he’d taken her to her apartment, too impatient to wait, but she’d never spent a weekend here with him until that last weekend...