Page 54 of Luca
“Ummm… Sure.”
I watched in a daze as his hand moved slowly, slightly shaking until his palm pressed gently against my growing belly. The moment it touched me, the baby kicked. Then again. It was as if she woke up and started doing somersaults.
“We’ll keep her safe,” he rasped. “You and I.”
His eyes lifted to my face and our gazes clashed. Suddenly, all the worries about my baby’s safety vanished. I could feel the intensity of his protection, see the vow in his gaze, and it made my throat tighten.
A feeling bloomed in my chest, leaving me feeling raw. Exposed. I was suddenly in unfamiliar territory with him. I could feel his heat. Smell his citrusy cologne.
What the hell was happening to me?
He cleared his throat.
“She’s active,” he said, his voice neutral. “Must be a badass little girl, like her Mamma.”
I smiled. “Maybe. Or maybe it’s just you that has that impact on the Callahan women. We all want to kick your ass.”
He smiled, but it didn’t quite reach his eyes.
“I guess I’ll have to work harder to have both of you like me more,” he said, a hint of coarseness in his voice.
A heavy feeling pulled on my chest, consuming me. I pushed the feeling down, ignoring it. It was probably bad indigestion.
So I laughed it off and bumped my shoulder lightly against his. “You better. Or else–” I threatened half-heartedly.
“No more tavern. No more working for Paolo,” he said, suddenly jumping to his feet and extending his hand. “Come and stay at the villa with us.”
I put my hand in his, his strong fingers wrapping around mine.
“You had me at ‘no more working for Paolo’,” I muttered, before realizing how that sounded.
He grinned, that familiar smug smirk back on his lips. “Ahh, my skills at charming are kicking up a notch.”
“Don’t lie to yourself,” I mused, smiling.
I had no idea how we got here. All our bickering and hate just vanished, leaving us teasing each other on this beach.
The world certainly worked in mysterious ways.
ChapterTwenty-Three
MARGARET
DiMauro’s villa was charming.
The stone fence surrounded the property. The large villa sat on a hill overlooking the city with the sea on one side and mountains on the other. We drove for five miles through hillside fields with workers busy picking fruit and pruning trees. Crates full of colorful fruit sat along the side of the driveway on both sides. Though I had to question what fruit really ripened in October. So I looked it up - persimmons, pomegranates, figs, apples, and pears.
This place was amazing.
Turning my head, I looked at Luca. His left arm rested against the car window as he drove with his right one. He wore white pants and a black polo. He was so damn relaxed, it was hard to reconcile him to the man I always saw in three-piece-suits.
“So your grandfather runs the mafia and a fruit produce business?” I questioned, my tone slightly sarcastic. I couldn’t resist it, the two stark businesses so vastly different.
“It’s always good to have a backup plan,” Luca remarked, ignoring my sarcasm.
“What kind of fruit is it?” I questioned, glancing back outside.
“Olives, pomegranate, different kinds of nuts,” he answered.
