Page 38 of Dangerous Attraction

Madison: I do!

Me:No one will treat you differently, or they will deal with me.

Madison:Don’t go getting all murderous on me.

Me:For your safety and my sanity, use Freddy. We will discuss it more when I return this week.

Madison:Fine…

I smirked, holding the phone in my hand. She wasn’t a pushover and verbally sparred with me when she didn’t like something. It was refreshing to have a woman who didn’t cower down to me. Eventually, I’d take her upstairs to Fantasia and show her how being submissive benefit us both. I missed her. Glancing around at the empty hospital room, I wished I’d brought her with me. My family would love her, despite her not being Italian. Hell, she had the personality of an Italian woman, regardless of her blood. I fired off another text.

Me:I miss you

Madison:Really?

Me:Yes. I should have brought you with me.

Madison:Next time. Got to go to class. Be safe. Miss you, too.

I started to type, then erased the words. I wanted to tell her exactly how I felt, but would it freak her out? Typing my response again, I stared at it. How would she react to this? I deleted it again. No… they were words I should say in person. Instead, I set my phone down and stood. The city outside my grandfather’s window was slowing down for the night. It was a bit after seven on the boot-shaped island. The city was old and catered to the art and music crowd. It was known for its food and architecture, making it a hot destination spot for the wealthy. The weather was nice, pretty much year-round, unlike the climate in Vegas.

“Massimo?” The raspy voice of my grandmother startled me.

“Nonna,” I said, forcing a smile and striding over to her. “What are you doing here?” I spoke in Italian out of respect. My grandmother could speak English, but her native tongue was her preference.

“I wanted to see him again. I’ve accepted he will not be here much longer.”

My gut rolled with sadness to hear her say she’d already accepted he was dying. Hell, I hadn’t even accepted it yet. I took her hand and led her to the chair beside her husband.

“I love Giuseppe. He is,” she said, patting his hand, “and will always be my true love.” Her Italian was laden with remorse. Looking at my face and seeing the sadness, she grabbed my chin. In her thick Italian accent, she spoke English, “True love does not die. I will be with him again.”

“You believe in true love, Nonna?”

“Yes.” She nodded. “You will too when you have found it.”

“I think I already have.” I reached over and rubbed my grandfather’s still arm. “I wish Nonno could meet her.”

“Enough, sadness.” She leaned over and kissed him on the forehead. “Come, let us go.”

I followed her out of his room and down to the main floor. A driver was waiting for us when we stepped outside the hospital doors. Helping her into the car, she patted my leg.

“Tell me about this woman.” She cut her eyes toward me, waiting for me to speak.

“We only just met, but I think I am already in love with her. Is that possible?”

“I met your grandfather at a coffee shop when I was just a girl.” She smiled as the memory washed over her. “Three days later, we were married.”

“Three days? Nonna, why am I just hearing about this?”

“I don’t know. His family was not proud that we ran off and wed.” A tear spilled down her cheek. “But we didn’t want to wait. True love happens that way, Massimo. I’ve told you before, when you find the person meant for you,”—she paused, her eyes closing shut—“it’s like a lightning bolt strikes your soul.”

I thought back to meeting Madison. When she walked into my office, I was struck with an intense feeling that she was meant to be mine. I’d never felt that with any other woman.

“I see you thinking… this woman,”—she nudged me—“she does this to you, yes?”

“Yes, Nonna, she does.”

“Good. Bring her here to Italy so I can meet her.”

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