Natalie Anderson - Love Islands - Swept Away

He dropped his hand once she gave a grudging nod.

‘Lucca, it’s time to go,’ she called out.

‘One more minute!’ came his son’s belligerent reply.

A tight, reluctant smile curved Maisie’s lips, drawing Romeo’s attention to their pink plumpness. ‘He has zero concept of time and yet that’s his stock answer every time you try to get him away from something he loves doing.’

‘I’ll bear that in mind,’ he answered.

He glanced at his son and that sucker-punch feeling slammed into him again. It’d first happened when Gianlucca had slid his hand into his. Romeo had no term for it. But it was alive within him, and swelling by the minute.

Unthinking questions crowded his mind. Like when had Gianlucca taken his first step? What had been his first word?

What was his favourite thing to do besides feeding greedy ducks?

He stood, stock-still, as a plan began to formulate at the back of his mind. A plan that was uncharacteristically outlandish.

But wasn’t this whole situation outlandish in the extreme?

And hadn’t he learned that sometimes it was better to fight fire with fire?

The idea took firmer root, embedding itself as the only viable course available to him if he was to thwart the schemes of Lorenzo Carmine and Agostino Fattore.

The more Romeo thought about the plans the old men, in their bid to hang on to their fast-crumbling empire, had dared to lay out for him, the more rage threatened to overcome him. He’d tempered that rage with caution, not forgetting that a wounded animal was a dangerous animal. Fattore’s lieutenant might be old, and his power weakened, but Romeo knew that some power was better than no power to people like Lorenzo. And they would hang on to it by every ruthless means available.

Romeo didn’t intend to lower his guard where Lorenzo’s wily nature was concerned. His newly discovered son’s safety was paramount. But even if Lorenzo and the shadows of Romeo’s past hadn’t been hanging over him, he would still proceed with the plan now fully formed in his mind.

He followed Maisie as she approached and caught up Gianlucca’s hand. ‘Time to go, precious.’ The moment he started to protest, she continued, ‘Which do you prefer for your tea, fish fingers or spaghetti and meatballs?’

‘Spaghetti balls,’ the boy responded immediately, his mind adeptly steered in the direction of food, just as his mother had intended. He danced between them until they reached the gate.

Romeo noticed his men had slipped into the security SUV parked behind his limo and nodded at the driver who held the door open. He turned to help his son into the car and saw Maisie’s frown.

‘Do you happen to have a car seat in there?’ she asked.

Romeo cursed silently. ‘No.’

‘In that case, we’ll meet you back at the restaurant.’ She turned and started walking down the street.

He shut the door and fell into step beside her. ‘I’ll walk back with you.’

She opened her mouth to protest but stopped when he took his son’s hand. The feel of the small palm against his tilted Romeo’s world.

He hadn’t known or expected this reality-changing situation when he’d walked into that mansion in Palermo yesterday. But Romeo was nothing if not a quick study. His ability to harness a situation to his advantage had saved his life more times on the street than he could recount. He wasn’t in a fight-to-the-death match right now, but he still intended to emerge a winner.

* * *

Maisie’s first priority when she’d decorated her flat was homey comfort, with soft furnishings and pleasant colours to make the place a safe and snug home for her son. But as she opened the door and walked through the short hallway that connected to the living room she couldn’t help but see it through Romeo’s eyes. The carpet was a little worn, one cushion stained with Lucca’s hand paint. And suddenly, the yellow polka-dot curtains seemed a little too bright, like something a girlie girl would choose, instead of the sophisticated women Romeo Brunetti probably dated.

What did it matter?

She turned, prepared to show her pride in her home, and found him frozen in front of the framed picture collage above her TV stand. Twelve pictures documented various key stages of Lucca’s life so far, from his scrunched-up hours-old face to his first Easter egg hunt two months ago.

Romeo stared at each one with an intensity that bordered on the fanatic. Then he reached out and traced his fingers over Lucca’s first picture, the tremor in his hand hard to miss.

‘I have digital copies...if you’d like them,’ she ventured.

He turned. The naked emotion in his eyes momentarily stopped her breath.

‘ Grazie , but I don’t think that would be necessary.’

Her heart stopped as the fear she hadn’t wanted to fully explore bloomed before her eyes. ‘What does that mean?’ she asked, although she risked him further exploiting the rejection he’d just handed her.

‘It means there are more important things to discuss than which pictures of my son I would like copies of.’

Lucca chose that moment to announce his hunger.

Maisie glanced at Romeo, questions warring with anger inside her.

She didn’t want to leave her son now that she knew Romeo was preparing to back away. Especially since there was also the outside threat evidenced by the bodyguards in the SUV that had crawled behind them as they’d walked back. He travelled with too much security for a garden-variety billionaire.

That knowledge struck fear into her heart that she couldn’t dismiss.

‘Go and make his meal, Maisie,’ Romeo said.

The taut command in his voice jerked her spine straight.

‘I’d rather take him into the kitchen with me.’

‘Is that your normal routine?’ he queried with narrowed eyes.

‘No, normally he likes to watch his favourite children’s TV show while I cook.’

Romeo gave a brisk nod. ‘Go, then. I’ll find a way of entertaining him,’ he replied.

‘What do you know about entertaining children?’ she demanded fiercely.

His jaw clenched. ‘Even rocket science has been mastered. Besides, you’ll be in the next room. What could go wrong?’

Everything.

The word blasted through her head. She opened her mouth to say as much but saw Lucca staring with keen interest at them. The last thing she wanted was for her son to pick up the dangerous undercurrents in the room.

Romeo watched her for a minute, clench-jawed. ‘Are there any other exits in the flat, besides the front door?’

Maisie frowned. ‘There’s a fire escape outside my bedroom.’

‘Is it locked?’

‘Yes.’

‘Okay.’ He strode out and she followed him into the hallway. She watched him lock and take out the key and return to her. ‘Now you can be assured that I won’t run off with him while your back is turned. I’ll also keep conversation to a minimum so I don’t inadvertently verbally abuse him. Are you satisfied?’

Her fingers curled around the key, and she refused to be intimidated. ‘That works. I won’t be long. The meatballs are already done... I just need to cook the pasta.’

Romeo nodded and looked to where Lucca knelt on the floor surrounded by a sea of Lego. He shrugged off his overcoat and draped it over the sofa. Maisie watched him advance towards Lucca, his steps slow and non-threatening, to crouch next to him.

Lucca looked up, smiled and immediately scooped up a handful of Lego and held it out to him.

Maisie backed out, fighting the tearing emotions rampaging through her. Admonishing herself to get her emotions under control, she rushed into the kitchen and set about boiling water for the spaghetti, all the while trying to dissect what the presence of the bodyguards meant.