Page 80 of On Ice

For dessert, Giulia presents a crostata di ricotta for dessert along with tiny cups of espresso. The dessert is possibly the most delicious sweet I’ve ever tasted. The pastry shatters like glass, and the filling is smooth as silk.

They ask me some more questions about the hockey playoffs, and we discuss team dynamics and personalities. I’m happy to talk about hockey all day long, so that suits me fine. By the time the meal is over, I’m buzzed on the wine and my belly is full of good food.

When Sofia stands, signaling the end of dinner, I do the same. “Thanks for inviting me to eat with you,” I say. “It was nice learning more about your family, and also nice to see other parts of the house besides just my bedroom.”

Sofia’s frown creases her smooth forehead. “Now that we’ve met, and we know you’re not an axe murderer, please don’t feel like you have to stay in that room. Luca is being overly protective of us all.”

I grimace. “Are you sure? It must be awkward having me here.” It’s definitely awkward for me.

She shrugs. “From what my son has said you’ll be living here for the time being. It makes no sense for you to be relegatedto your bedroom.” She pats my arm. “I want you to make yourself at home.”

“Then I will,” I say, although I can’t actually picture doing that.

“You should come down for breakfast tomorrow.” Isabella says.

Tony nods distractedly, looking at his phone. “Yeah, you should. It’s usually around 9:00 a.m. Isabella the princess likes to sleep in.”

She grins and bats her lashes. “That, I do.”

“I appreciate the invitation, but I’ll be at practice by then. We have a game on Saturday and Coach is putting us through every drill he can think of.”

“Another time then,” Sofia says smoothly. “Good night, Evan. It was a pleasure meeting you, finally.”

“Same.” I turn and head out of the dining room, but then I pause after going a few feet. I have no idea how to get back to my room.

Behind me, Isabella laughs. “Want to join my expedition? I’ll get you back safely.”

I laugh, still beautifully buzzed from the wine. “This house is huge.”

“It’s gigantic. Our great-grandfather went a little crazy when he built it. We each have our own wing so that we have privacy.” As she speaks, she leads the way down a hallway. “Luca’s wing has his master bedroom, several other bedrooms, you’re in the blue room. There’s also an office where he works, and he was nice enough to allow Mama to have her art studio atthe end of his hallway. The natural light is best on that side of the house, so he caved.”

Ah, yes, I remember the art studio well.

I push thoughts of Luca and his warm mouth from my mind, and follow Isabella. She gives me a quick tour of the bottom floor, making a point of showing me where the kitchen and sunporch are. I do my best to remember landmarks, so that if I ever do want to join them for breakfast, I can do so without them having to send out a search party.

Once I’m back in my room, I strip down to my boxers and a T-shirt. The wine and big meal have made me tired, so I get into bed. Mostly I think about practice and the game on Saturday, but then my mind drifts to Luca.

It was weird seeing him through his family’s eyes tonight. I don’t want to feel soft toward him, but his family seems so normal, it’s hard not to feel less hostile. I think about the kiss we shared in his mother’s studio. Just thinking about his hungry mouth makes my dick hard. Luca has made no attempt to sleep with me since I moved in. Has he lost interest in me so soon? Or will he try to sleep with me when he returns from Italy?

If he returns from Italy.

When that chilling thought flutters through me, I’m surprised by how much it bothers me. From what his family said at dinner, Luca is in a position of authority while in Italy. His blessing can help someone become DeLuca’s replacement, but having that power can also make him a target. If Luca’s circumstances are as dangerous as his family worries, it’s possible I might never see him again.

I close my eyes and picture Luca dying. There’s a confusing hollow ache in the pit of my stomach at the thought of him goneforever. Even though I hate parts of Luca, from the moment I met him, I’ve felt drawn to him. Even after he told me who he was and what his plans were, I couldn’t completely erase my desire for him. My hunger for him is probably the worst part of this entire situation.

And also the most confusing.

Chapter Twenty

Luca

The private terminal at Seabrooke Airport sits apart from the main concourse, a sleek glass structure reserved for those too rich and pampered to even think of waiting in commercial flight security lines with the common folk. Gray clouds hang low over the runway, and mid-March winds cut across the tarmac as I descend the stairs from the Gulfstream. The chill bites deep, a stark contrast to the unusually sunny weather I enjoyed in southern Italy.

The jet engines wind down behind me, their high-pitched whine fading into the background noise of distant commercial flights. A black SUV waits on the tarmac, and my driver Danny stands near the front. My stride falters mid-step when my eyes settle on a second figure. I can’t believe my eyes. Marco is leaning on metal crutches beside the back passenger door.

I grin with uncharacteristic glee and call out, “What the hell are you doing here?” He just had surgery four days ago. He shouldn’t even be out of the hospital, let alone standing on a windy tarmac waiting to greet me.

“Welcoming committee of one.” He’s smiling, but even so I can see the strain on his face, and the pallor beneath his tanned skin.

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