Page 49 of Magnus
The colorful tattoos were pretty, Sapphie agreed, although she also thought they were less innocent than they looked. She’d seen similar tattoos on men who had been in prison or were involved with the Mafia.
“Ms. Jones,” he acknowledged after Magnus had made the introductions. She noted his accent was English rather than American. “And Little Miss Jones.” He dropped down onto his haunches as he greeted Angel, a grin splitting his weathered face. “I’ll tell you what all these pretty pictures are if you’ll allow me to carry you out to the car?”
Sapphie’s eyes widened when her daughter didn’t even hesitate to allow Knox to pick her up and carry her out of the terminal, the two of them chatting together as Knox told her what each of his visible tattoos were.
“He had a daughter of his own,” Magnus confided softly as Sapphie hurried to keep up with the man who had so easily taken possession of her daughter.
“Had?” Sapphie echoed.
He nodded. “She died of bone cancer ten years ago. She was only five.”
“Dear God…” Sapphie breathed.
“Yeah. He and her mother were no longer together anyway, but she totally absented herself from their daughter’s life after they were given Millie’s diagnosis and prognosis.” He glanced at the other man as he carefully strapped Angel into the child seat fixed in the back of one of the SUVs. “Knox had tattoos anyway, but he adds another one, usually something that meant something to Millie, on the anniversary of her death. Angel couldn’t be in safer hands. Now or when we reach the Carluccis’ house.”
Sapphie felt slightly ashamed of the way she had made assumptions about the other man based purely on the way he looked. She should have known that Magnus would never have allowed Knox to take Angel with him if he hadn’t trusted the other man implicitly.
But she would be lying if she didn’t admit to growing increasingly nervous the closer the SUVs came to the Carlucci mansion, even with all these strong and muscular men to protect her daughter.
“So, you said Knox’s men had ‘secured’ the Carluccis’ home: does that mean my in-laws know we’re coming?” she prompted Magnus as he sat in the front of the vehicle with one of Knox’s men driving. Sapphie sat in the back next to Angel.
“Knox made an appointment to see them, using his name, to ensure they were both at home, then he sent two of his men to secure the area and ensure no one else came in or went out of the house,” Magnus answered her. “The Carluccis have no idea why Knox made the appointment.”
Just as well; otherwise, Roman and Patrice, with or without Knox’s men standing outside, would probably have had a welcoming committee waiting for them.
Even knowing how very protected they were, Sapphie’s hand still felt damp in Magnus’s as they rang the doorbell and waited on the top step for the Carluccis’ manservant to open the door.
Fergus and the other Wynter Security men, from England and New York, stood behind them like sentinels. Knox and the two men who had been standing guard outside when they arrived were waiting in the SUV with Angel. They had a firm instruction from Magnus to get Angel away from here at the first sign that something had gone wrong with the meeting with her grandparents.
The door swung open, and the familiar figure of Frederick, the Carlucci family retainer for many years, stood in front of them. “Can I help— Miss Sapphie!” he exclaimed, a pleased smile lighting up his previously haughty and lined features. “I can’t believe it’s you,” he added warmly, staring at her intently, as if he feared she might evaporate into the ether if he looked away. “Mr. and Mrs. Carlucci are going to be so—” His smile faded. “But where is Miss Angel?” He frowned. “Did something happen to her?”
“Miss Angel is well and safe,” Magnus answered him. “Now could you go and tell your employers that Mr. Wilder is here waiting to speak with them? He has an appointment with them this morning.”
Sapphie almost laughed at how wide Frederick’s eyes became as he looked up and noticed, for the first time, it seemed, the half dozen men standing behind the massive Magnus and Fergus. “It’s okay, Frederick,” she assured him. “We come in peace.”
“Unless your employers decide otherwise,” Magnus growled.
“Mr. and Mrs. Carlucci are going to be so pleased to see you,” the manservant assured Sapphie before hurrying away to inform his employers they had visitors.
Sapphie sincerely doubted the Carluccis would feel any pleasure in seeing her again, knowing that Roman and Patrice’s interest had only ever been in Angel.
“Knox will keep her safe.” Magnus gave her hand a reassuring squeeze.
Sapphie really hoped that was true. She didn’t care what the Carluccis did or said to her—although she had a lot more to lose now that she and Magnus were in love and going to be married—but she never ever wanted the older couple to get their hands on Angel. Angel had enough of Sapphie inside her that if that ever did happen, she was confident her daughter wouldn’t become thoroughly spoiled by her grandparents the way Marco had been. But Sapphie really wasn’t willing to take that risk.
“We’re leaving here together,” Magnus assured her. “All of us. We’re going to be a family.”
Sapphie so much wanted that to be true.
She stiffened, every particle of her suddenly on high alert, as the Carluccis, not waiting for Frederick to show their visitors into the sitting room, both rushed down the hallway toward them.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
“Sapphie!”Patrice reached her first before reaching out to encompass her in a bone-crushing hug. “It’s so good to see you!” she leaned back slightly to gush. “We were so afraid—” She broke off. “You look so well,” she said instead.
Sapphie’s expression was wooden as she pulled away from the other woman and the waft of the heavy perfume Patrice always wore. Patrice looked older, a lot older, than when she had last seen the other woman.
Sapphie lifted her chin. “What were you afraid of? That your ‘mentally unstable’ daughter-in-law might have killed herself after murdering your granddaughter?” she challenged bitterly.
