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His eyes look hurt and his lip tightens as he searches my face. I can’t tell whether he even knows they were there. So now I wish I hadn’t said that. The urge to launch myself across the table at him is hard to fight.
He says, “They went for the same reason I planned to go.”
My breath skips. “Why didn’t you?”
“The don. He lectured me in his study. He did it with all of us that morning, one at a time. I was last, after he pinned Bruno and Alessio’s ears back.”
“Saying I was an evil Jezebel, coming to bring the fires of hell and rain the apocalypse down on the house.”
“Like that, yes.” Not a smile, but I think I saw a glint. Or maybe it’s wishful thinking.
I go on, “And that I was behind the raid on Adrianna Bagniola’s engagement party.”
I let my hand drop to his thigh. The heat and strength of his body sends a surge from my hand, up into my chest, and it bursts all the way through me.
He breathes in a long, slow sniff. His hand falls on mine. Pulling. Picking me up to cast me away. I’m too near the top of his thigh not to feel his other reaction, though. The front of his pants heats up. Stretches and fills.
As he moves my hand away, I can’t tell if I’m imagining his reluctance or if it’s real. He nods. “The raid and the Crespi killings.”
Just when I thought I might be getting somewhere, that wraps cold fingers round my heart. And I hate having to hide it from him. I should be able to trust him with everything. With my life. But I can’t. Obviously.
With a sigh, I say, “You said you wanted to see me.”
“I said I needed to see you.”
My head turns at the sound of four more powerful and immaculately-shod male feet.
Bruno and Alessio strut toward me, through the restaurant.
CHAPTER FIFTY-ONE
All the feelings rush back into me, making it hard for me to breathe. Seeing all three of them here, together, being surrounded by their cologne and all the testosterone and each of their own special scents, I’m lightheaded for a moment. I don’t trust myself to speak.
Alessio beckons the head waiter. Says a few words and palms something to him. Cash, I expect. The maitre d’ and two other waiters go to the few diners at tables in the back part of the restaurant. They bend low to speak. Then, first one table then the next get up and move to tables at the front.
The maitre d’ pulls doors and screens shut so we’re closed off from the people out in front. He clasps his hands and says to Alessio, “You won’t be disturbed.”
Carlo was the only one of the Fortunas I expected to see, and I prepared myself for a dry and cold meeting with no good outcome. Now I’m surrounded, penned in by all three of the men that I love. Now I’m shocked at myself for thinking that way. It makes me feel exposed. Naked in the wind.
My cheeks feel hot and it’s hard to breathe. It’s hard to sit still, too. All of my juices spark and fizz.
Carlo tells me, “Mom called. She told me I had to give you something. Something of hers.”
“Oh?” I still have no idea where I stand with him. My feelings for him have been clear from the start. Or, at least, the strength and power of them has. And I feel sure I can read what he feels, what’s in his heart. But I can still never be sure what he’s thinking. And Carlo is definitely ruled from his head over his heart.
Bruno cuts the silence. “I came along with Alessio to see that he does what Momma wanted.” His eyes cut to Carlo, “We had to follow Carlo here, or we wouldn’t have known about the meeting.”
Carlo looks down and back up into my eyes. I could pour myself on him, right now. But I keep my upright position in my seat.
“It’s a thing of great value and importance,” he says. “It’s back at the house.”
I gulp. “I– I can’t go there. The don…” my voice trails off.
Carlo’s eyes give me a hint of a smile. The first light of encouragement I’ve seen from him today.
Leaning forward, I shake my head. “The house? Are you kidding?”
“Come for dinner.” Alessio says, “You’ll be there as our guest.”
