Page 33 of The Convenient Cosentino Wife

Adriano hesitated. “Is uncle coming?”

Clare froze, guilt washing through her. “No. I hadn’t planned on it. California is far away.”

“But he’s my uncle.”

“And we just spent several days with him. He has work and things he needs to take care of in Rome.”

“Maybe we should go to Rome instead.”

Her pulse thudded harder. “What would we do in Rome?”

Adriano answered promptly.“Potremmo andare a vedere piu castelli e rovine.”We could go see more castles and ruins.

“But if we go to California we could maybe go to Disneyland, see Mickey Mouse.”

“Thenzioshould come.”

“But wouldn’t it be more fun if it was just us?” she asked, voice low.

“No. I like my uncle.”

Adriano had never been so fixated on anyone or anything before and it was throwing Clare off balance. She could understand Adriano’s enthusiasm to a point; their family was very small; it was just the two of them, so the addition of a new relative had to be exciting, but what about Rocco did Adriano like so much? “What is your favorite thing aboutzio?”

Adriano took the question very seriously, taking several long moments to think. Finally he answered. “Zioknows many things. He is Italian, and family. My family.” His dark head tipped and his gaze met hers. “What do you like?”

Again her pulse felt jagged, beating fast, making her breathless. “That he is your uncle, your family.”

“Ourfamily.” Adriano’s small hand gestured from her to him, the gesture so very Latin and expressive.

She smiled and swallowed, trying to hold the tears back. He was such a beautiful bright boy. He deserved the sun and the moon and the stars, and she’d try to give him that and more, but a father wasn’t in the picture. Marriage was not in the picture. She needed to break this off quickly, and if Rocco remained in Adriano’s life, it would be as an uncle, and nothing more.

Rocco read the letter delivered by courier to him at his office and then set it aside. He walked out onto the penthouse terrace which looked out over the Roman Forum. He loved the columns and ruins, the remnants of older civilizations. Centuries passed and technology changed, but man didn’t.

Clare wasn’t going to marry him after all.

Rocco’s lips twisted. Part of him was angry, but another part felt sympathetic, aware that Clare must be in turmoil. He didn’t blame her. Death and grief were impossible things. Grief lingered on and on. Rocco felt as if he spent most of his life in mourning. He didn’t even know what it was to not grieve. Grief was always with him. The loss of all of those he loved. So no, any anger he felt wasn’t toward Clare, but toward fate, which had made life so difficult.

He understood her note quite well, but it wasn’t that simple. He wasn’t going to walk away from her, or abandon Adriano. He still wanted to give Adriano the family name. He still wanted Adriano to be raised as a Cosentino.

And then there was Clare. He still wanted Clare. After that kiss, after the fierce physical connection he wanted her more than ever. She was his. She was always meant to be his.

Rocco returned to his desk and after sitting down he made some calls, discovering she’d left the villa for the executive airport. He made another call and her flight plan had been filed, an international flight plan and she’d be taking off within the hour.

He made another call and his helicopter was on the way. He was heading to the business airport. Rocco was not going to let her go without a fight.

Clare couldn’t believe it when Rocco boarded the jet. Her flight had been delayed due to a mechanical—at least that’s what she’d been told—but as Rocco walked down the narrow aisle toward her she wondered if that was true.

“Zio!” Adriano cried, delighted to see his uncle.

Rocco put a hand on the top of the boy’s head even as his gaze locked with Clare’s. “Where are you heading?” he asked her lightly, conversationally.

“California,” Adriano answered, tipping his head back to see Rocco better. “I wanted you to come, but Mama said you had to work.”

“California?” Rocco said, sitting down in one of the leather chairs that formed a sitting area, two on one side facing two on the other. “What will you do there?”

“Maybe go to Disneyland,” Adriano said, unbuckling his seat belt and sliding out of his seat. He went to Rocco and climbed on his lap. “Do you meet Mickey Mouse?”

Clare shifted uncomfortably, aware that Rocco was watching her, his gaze pinning her to her seat. She’d known he would look for her, and suspected he’d find her, but she hadn’t expected him to find her so soon, before she’d even left the ground.

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