Page 75 of On Ice

She laughs at my dubious expression. “I’m serious. We know everything. We know you refused to throw the game against Chicago and almost got yourself killed.”

“Oh.” My face warms.

“We know he brought you here for safekeeping.” She bites her bottom lip. “It’s very interesting that he do that. He doesn’t usually go out of his way to protect strangers. Luca has the ability to shut off his feelings. It’s a little scary, if I’m honest,” she murmurs. “But here you are.”

“It must be odd to have me here. I’m sorry if I’m creating problems for your family.”

She laughs. “Problems are an everyday occurrence when you’re a Barone. I’m glad you’re here. It gets pretty boring around here sometimes. Please have dinner with us.”

I’m tempted. While this bedroom is nice and all, it’s beginning to feel like a prison.

“It’s just dinner,” she coaxes.

I hesitate. “Are you sure the rest of your family doesn’t mind if I join you?”

“Mind?” She laughs. “They’re the ones who sent me up here to get you. Mama told me not to take no for an answer.”

“Oh.” I smile weakly.

“We usually eat in the kitchen, but Mama set the table in the formal dining room just for this dinner.” She clasps her hands. “Please join us. It’ll be fun. Then you can come right back here if you want, okay? I won’t even nag you to take a walk in the garden with me or anything like that.” She brightens. “Unless you want to?”

I laugh because I get the feeling Isabella just says whatever she’s thinking. She’s charming in a sweet, goofy way. “I guess I could eat with you guys. It’s nice of you to invite me. It actually would be nice to do something other than read or stare at the ceiling.”

“We should get you a TV.” She frowns. “I can’t believe Luca hasn’t thought of that.”

“I’m not here that much.”

“Still.” She sighs. “Luca should be a better host.”

Is he my host or my warden?

I glance down at my jeans. “Should I change?”

She waves her hand at me, her gaze admiring. “No, you look great just the way you are.”

I run my hand over the back of my neck, feeling nervous about meeting Luca’s mother and brother. I suspect Isabella notices my nerves because she approaches and slips her arm through mine.

“Come along. We don’t want the food to get cold.”

“No, we wouldn’t want that,” I mutter, allowing her to lead me to the door. I’m not sure this is a great idea, but Isabella is a force not easily ignored.

Isabella chatters away about a tennis lesson she had earlier in the day as we descend the wide staircase. She leads me through wide open rooms with leather furniture and murals of Italy on the walls, until we reach the formal dining room.

The room stretches beneath a crystal chandelier, its light casting warm patterns across a table that could seat twenty but is set intimately for four. The tablecloth is crisp white linen, the place settings a mix of antique silver and delicate china. Fresh flowers that appear to be white roses and something that smells like jasmine, spill from an orange and yellow Murano glass vase at the center.

A sophisticated looking woman, who I assume is Luca’s mother, presides at the head of the table. She’s elegant in a white silk blouse and pearls. A muscular man with a shaved head and tattoos sits beside her. His gaze tracks me as I enter the room with his sister.

Isabella takes the chair across from her brother, next to her mother and points to the seat beside her. “Sit next to me, Evan.”

Since she’s the only person I know, I’m happy to sit beside her. I pull out the heavy chair and slid into it, conscious of Mrs. Barone and Tony’s gaze. When I look up, Mrs. Barone smiles at me. Her gaze is sharp, but not unfriendly.

“I’m Sofia Barone,” she says. “It’s wonderful to finally meet you, Evan. Luca kept you from us for far too long.”

“It’s nice to meet you too,” I say politely.

Tony stands and reaches across the wide table. “I’m Tony Barone, Luca’s younger brother.” His gaze is assessing and his grip painfully tight. He looks nothing like his brother with his shaved head and tattoos.

I force a smile. “Nice to meet you.”

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