Page 77 of Runaway Queen

“Hilarious.”

“Who is this?” Angelo asked, eyeing Bran with a dangerous look. He might have stopped being paid to be my bodyguard seven years ago, but he’d never really given up the role. He was as overprotective as ever, over me and Leo.

“You wouldn’t believe me if I told you,” I muttered, juggling the hot dinner plates and the casserole dish. “Are you really eating with us?” I directed the last to Bran.

“Damn right. It smells amazing. I love a woman who can cook. How does your lady stack up in that department?”

He grinned at Angelo, who looked like he wanted to tear Bran’s head off his neck.

“Tell me who you are, or you’re not staying.”

“For dinner?” Bran wondered.

“In Maine,” Angelo growled, his huge shoulders bunched up.

“Don’t worry, big guy. He’s with me.”

The newcomer spoke from the doorway, and the voice was enough to freeze us all to the spot, well, all except Leo and Bran. Bran leaned back, smiling at his friend, while Leo perked up, sitting up in his chair and casting curious eyes at the man lounging in the doorway.

Nikolai leaned against the doorjamb, his eyes fixing on Angelo. My former bodyguard stood slowly, his chair scraping noisily across the floor.

“Oh my god, what the hell! Girl, you’ve been holding out on me so hard,” Chiara squealed.

“What is it, what is it!” Leo demanded.

Bran patted him on the shoulder. “Just old friends catching up.”

“Okay.” Leo smiled at the scene around him, happy to have a full house.

Angelo had crossed the room to Nikolai. The two sized each other up. A wave of nerves traveled across me as I watched them. What if Nikolai blamed Angelo for keeping me a secret? What if the room was about to turn into a bloodbath? No. He wouldn’t do that. Not with Leo here. I knew it without a doubt, somehow.

Nikolai’s serious expression suddenly morphed into a wicked grin. “Come here, big guy. Long time no see.”

He pulled Angelo into him and wrapped an arm around his shoulders. Angelo jerked with surprise at first and then relaxed. He slapped Nikolai’s back, and the two split apart, smiling.

“Holy shit, that was hot,” Chiara said, gaze riveted to her husband and Nikolai, a piece of garlic bread halfway to her mouth.

“Zia cattiva! You said a swear!” Leo held out his hand. “A dollar fine.”

Chiara slapped a ten into his hand. “This dinner requires an advance payment. Go nuts, kid.”

“They let you out? This whole country’s gone to pot,” Angelo grinned.

Bran cackled. “Classic dad joke.”

“Hey, don’t you call my husband old,” Chiara quipped, pointing at him across the table.

“Look, you, don’t forget who first called your husband daddy, eh? Let’s get our facts straight.”

I tore my attention away from Chiara and Bran, squabbling across the table like siblings.

Nikolai approached me as Angelo returned to his seat.

“Good evening, Ms. Rossi,” he said quietly, his hands landing on my hip. He leaned in to kiss me hello, and his lips brushing across my cheek felt far too intentional and slow to be a greeting.

I flushed.

“Good evening. Are you okay?”

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