A Dark Sicilian Secret

“Yes.”

“Then come. Maria will be here any moment to spend the night with him—”

“I don’t want to leave him!” she whispered.

“He’ll be fine.”

“Vitt, please. I’ve never slept away from him—”

“You’ll have to sooner or later.”

She glanced down at her baby in his blue pajamas. Her heart ached. “But not yet.”

He studied her a moment, his expression inscrutable. “That’s fine. We’ll both sleep here then.”

She’d thought at first he was joking—Vittorio was a man who loved his creature comforts—but it turned out he was serious, and left to go to his room to change into pajamas.

While Vittorio was gone, she slipped into the only nightgown she owned, a pink floral-sprigged flannel gown with a ruffled neckline, buttons down the front, and a long hem. It’d been a perfect gown for breast-feeding but it was far from glamorous or sexy.

Jillian brushed her teeth quickly and was just scooting into bed when Vittorio returned in dark gray pajama pants and a black silk robe. He glanced at her huddled in the bed and smiled briefly before turning out the light.

Nervously she turned on her side to face Joe’s cot. With her eyes closed, she listened to Vitt approach, her ears straining to catch every sound he made from his heavy footsteps to the tug on the covers to the soft thud of his robe falling to the floor.

She felt the bed give on his side, felt the covers tug and then the warmth of his powerful body settle next to hers.

For a moment she couldn’t breathe. She’d dreamed of this, of him, so many times since she’d run away from his villa in Bellagio, wanting so badly what she couldn’t have.

Because she couldn’t have him. It wasn’t sane. He posed danger to her at every level.

But what was that expression? The heart wants what the heart wants?

And her heart had wanted him. Her heart had always wanted him.

“You can breathe,” he said quietly, his voice pitched so only she could hear.

“I am.”

“Barely.”

She smiled in the dark even as her chest ached with fierce emotion. This was the Vittorio she’d wanted. This was the man who’d made her feel extraordinarily loved. “You don’t need to worry about me,” she whispered.

“Oh, but I think I do.” His arm slid around her and he pulled her close against him. She felt his lips brush the back of her head. “Now relax. Sleep. Tomorrow will be here before you know it.”

Miraculously, she did sleep. She must have drifted off right away because the next time she stirred, she was alone in the bed. Frowning, Jillian glanced at the clock on the narrow bedside table. Six hours had passed since she’d closed her eyes. Amazing because she never slept deeply, not anymore.

A soft knock sounded on the door and then the door opened. Maria entered with a tray. “Signor sent you coffee and juice and a breakfast pastry. He thought you might want something to eat before we land.”

Jillian sat up, glanced at Joe who was stirring in his cot. “We’re landing soon?”

Maria nodded and placed the tray next to Jillian on the bed. “In less than an hour.”

Maria took Joe to the staff room to feed and dress him so that Jillian could have her coffee and dress in privacy.

Privacy felt like a luxury, Jillian thought as she nibbled on the breakfast roll between sips of coffee. But that was Vittorio’s way—affluence, luxury, comfort. She’d forgotten just how posh his lifestyle was. She’d forgotten how decadent she’d felt in Bellagio in his lakeside villa with the stunning views of the mountains.

Dressed, she headed for the main cabin where Vittorio waited for her. “Did you sleep okay?” he asked her as she took a seat in one of the honey leather chairs opposite his.

“I did. Better than I have in months. Thank you.”