‘She would have pulled his testicles off with her fingernails.’ He smiled coldly. ‘But my father adored her, so he never needed or wanted a mistress.’

The waiter arrived with their steaming plates of pasta, suppressing her urge to punch Luca in the face.

She wanted to hurt him. Right then she wanted to make him suffer for everything he had put her through, was putting her through, and everything she would have to endure for the next eighteen years. Unless she found an escape route. Which she would.

While she finished feeding Lily, Luca ate his pasta and caught up on his emails, effectively blanking her out.

‘Have you even spoken to Lily yet?’

He raised his eyes.

‘Have you?’ She carefully placed the baby on her shoulder and patted her bottom.

‘Babies can’t talk.’

‘Have you tried any form of interaction with her?’

His nostrils flared. ‘Lily does not yet know me. I have no wish to upset her.’

‘You were happy to let the shop assistant—a stranger—hold her.’

He shrugged. ‘She asked.’

‘On that basis, you would let any random person who wanted to hold our child have her?’

‘Only the ones I find attractive enough to consider making my mistress.’

She flinched. ‘So you were flirting.’

‘I wouldn’t call it flirting. I would call it auditioning.’

‘You’re really enjoying this, aren’t you?’

‘I take no pleasure from humiliating people. In your case I am prepared to make an exception.’ He took a bite of pasta and cast his eyes back down to his tablet.

‘That’s funny.’

‘What is?’

‘You saying you get no pleasure from humiliating people. In your line of work I would have thought humiliation was a perk.’

That got his attention. He put his fork down. His narrowed eyes captured hers. ‘My line of work?’

‘You’re a gangster. A criminal.’

CHAPTER SEVEN

GRACE COULD HAVE sworn Luca blanched, but, it was such a fleeting expression, one blink and it had gone.

‘I am not a criminal.’

‘Really?’ She made no attempt to hide her disbelief. ‘How would you describe yourself?’

‘I’m a businessman.’

‘Hmm. So it’s normal behaviour for businessmen to live in the Sicilian equivalent of Fort Knox and travel everywhere with armed guards? Is it also normal for businessmen to beat people?’

His eyes had blackened, his nostrils flared. ‘What, exactly, do you mean by that?’

‘Do you remember a couple of days or so before I left you, I went with you to the casino? Do you remember when I walked into the office and that man was in there with you all? Do you remember him? Because I do. Even though you marched me out straight away, I got a good look at his face. I saw that man a few days later in Palermo. Both of his arms had been broken and his face looked as if he’d been in a boxing match against an opponent twice his size.’

While she had no time for Luca’s nightclubs, she’d liked spending time in his casinos, especially the one in Palermo. She’d come to enjoy their nights out there, dining in the à la carte restaurant and playing cards. The night she had been referring to had been their last night out together. She had been playing poker, a game she was good at, but her frequent yawns had got the better of her. She’d wanted to go home and go to bed, preferably with her husband.

Luca had been nowhere to be found on the gaming floor, so she had wandered off to the security offices on the top floor. Being one of the bosses’ wives meant she had access to anywhere she desired.

She had found him in the nondescript office used by the duty manager.

The man in question had been sitting in a chair in the middle of the room surrounded by Luca, Francesco and two men she didn’t know. Those two men, with their broken noses and cauliflower ears, had given her the heebie-jeebies.

She could still taste the testosterone of that office, could still feel the menacing atmosphere that had greeted her when she walked through the door.

All the men had fixed their eyes on her, their surprise that she’d barged in on them palpable.

‘Everything all right?’ she had asked with a naivety she looked back on with disgust.

‘We’re in the middle of a meeting,’ Luca had said curtly, striding over to her.

‘Are you going to be much longer? Only I’m tired and want to go home.’

‘We will not be long.’ He’d taken her arm and ushered her to the door. ‘Wait for me in the bar. I’ll be with you shortly.’

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