Page 70 of Take Me Under

That girl was naïve, and didn’t know how much she’d change over the years. The pictures pre-dated Cade and Briana, and all the heartache they would eventually cause. It was before my father got sick, leaving an empty space in my heart that could never be filled.

I shook my head and turned back to place the empty duffle inthe closet. Heading to the shared bathroom down the hallway, I took a moment to wash my face and hands, removing the grime from the day. After towel drying, I planned to go to my car and retrieve my other bags but paused when I heard a sharp knock at the front door.

Walking out into the hallway, I yelled, “I’m on my way down, Mamma. I’ll get it.”

Opening the front door, I froze. Anton stood there, looking impossibly handsome. His piercing onyx eyes locked onto mine with an intensity that sent my pulse racing. At first, I wasn’t sure how he’d known to find me here, but then I remembered that I’d given him the address so he could find a nearby hotel.

“Anton,” I said, my voice faltering.

“Princess,” The corners of his mouth lifted in a faint smile.

“I wasn’t expecting you to come here. I thought you were going to a hotel, and we’d meet up later.”

My mother appeared behind me, forcing me to maintain my composure. Her eyes widened as she took him in, her lips parting in surprise.

“And who is this?” she asked.

“Mamma, this is Anton Romano,” I said, stepping aside and motioning him in. “Anton, this is my mother, Sylvia Martinelli.”

Anton extended a hand, his charm effortless. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Mrs. Martinelli.”

My mother took his hand, her cheeks tinged with pink. “Please, call me Sylvia. Serena, you did not tell me we were expecting such a handsome guest this evening.”

“Oh, I um… ” I stammered, shooting Anton a questioning look. “Anton is interested in investing in the Rome dig. We met in New York. I wasn’t expecting him. I?—”

“It’s no bother at all! I’ve made plenty,” my mother declared, never once taking her observant gaze off Anton. “You’ll join us for dinner, yes?”

My eyes widened.

Oh, no…

It was nearing eight o’clock. It had been a long day in the field, and I was tired from the four-hour drive from Rome to Lucca. I was not mentally prepared for this.

Anton chuckled, the sound low and warm. “Thank you, Sylvia. I wasn’t planning to impose. I’ve booked a room at the Hotel Villa Bianca, just a few blocks away. I was only stopping by to see if Serena wanted to join me for a bite to eat. We have…business matters to discuss.”

My mother waved this off as if it were absurd. “Nonsense! You’ll eat here. I insist.”

I opened my mouth to protest, but Anton spoke first. “Thank you. I’d be honored.”

Of course, he would accept.

He thrived in situations like this—completely unflappable and utterly in control. I, on the other hand, was suddenly very aware of how awkward this was sure to be.

“Well,” my mother said, clapping her hands together. “Come, Anton. Sit, relax. I’ve madefiocchettiwith pears and parmesan cream. Serena, go pick out a nice wine for us.”

I shot Anton a look of exasperation, but he just smiled, clearly amused. It wasn’t long before my mother began fussing over him, peppering him with questions about his business in New York.

I resigned myself to my fate. It was going to be a long evening.

CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

Anton

Dinner was an experience, and not just because it had been a while since I’d enjoyed a home-cooked meal. The delicate folds of pasta in cream sauce with sweet pear was incredible, and the women seated across from me were truly fascinating to watch.

Sylvia was a force of nature, commanding the tiny dining room with an energy that filled every corner. She laughed easily, her hands gesturing animatedly as she recounted stories about the locals and the antics of her neighbor’s mischievous dog. It was all so…domestic, and it was a far cry from anything I’d ever experienced.

But I was more taken with Serena. She was different, relaxed in a way I hadn’t seen before. Her careful guard had seemed to soften—her laughter more genuine and her smile unreserved. She leaned forward, listening to her mother with rapt attention, occasionally throwing in her own quips.

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