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She slowly rose and looked over her shoulder. Sure enough, the two black-clad bodyguards prowled a short distance away. About to turn away, Maisie froze as she spotted two more by the south gate. Two more guarded the west side of the park.
Heart in her throat, she approached the duck pond, where Romeo was throwing a piece of bread under her son’s strict instruction.
His head swung towards her and his expression altered at whatever he read on her face. ‘Something wrong?’
‘I think I should be asking you that,’ she hissed so Gianlucca wouldn’t overhear, but she placed a protective hand on his tiny shoulder, ready to lay down her life for him if she needed to. ‘Do you want to tell me why you have six bodyguards watching this park?’ Her voice vibrated with the sudden fear and anger she couldn’t disguise.
His face hardened and the arm he’d raised to throw another bite into the pond slowly lowered to his side. ‘I think it’s time to continue this conversation elsewhere.’
CHAPTER FOUR (#ulink_30126005-c654-5ac6-bd1b-a7ffd9d5d876)
ROMEO WATCHED SEVERAL expressions chase over her face.
‘What does that mean?’ she asked, her blue eyes narrowing before she cast another alarmed glance at the burly men guarding the park.
He followed her apprehensive gaze and indicated sharply at his men when he saw that other parents were beginning to notice their presence. The men melted into the shadows, but the look didn’t dissipate from Maisie’s face. When her hand tightened imperceptibly on Gianlucca’s shoulder, Romeo’s insides tightened.
‘My hotel is ten minutes away. We’ll talk there.’ He tried not to let the irony of his statement cloud the occasion. He’d said similar words to her five years ago, an invitation that had ended with him reeling from the encounter.
That invitation had now brought him to this place, to his son. He had no doubt in his mind that the child was his. Just as he had no doubt that he would claim him, and protect him from whatever schemes Lorenzo had up his sleeves. Beyond that, he had no clue what his next move was. He didn’t doubt, though, that he would find a way to triumph. He’d dragged himself from the tough streets of Palermo to the man he was today. He didn’t intend to let anything stand in the way of what he desired.
He focused to find her shaking her head. ‘I can’t.’
Romeo’s eyes narrowed as a hitherto thought occurred to him. ‘You can’t? Why not?’ He realised then how careless he’d been. Because Lorenzo’s pictures had shown only Maisie with his son, Romeo had concluded that she was unattached. But those pictures were four years old. A lot could have happened in that time. She could’ve taken another lover, a man who had perhaps become important enough to see himself as Gianlucca’s father.
The very idea made him see red for one instant. ‘Is there someone in your life?’ He searched her fingers. They were ringless. But that didn’t mean anything these days. ‘A lover, perhaps?’ The word shot from his mouth like a bullet.
Her eyes widened and she glanced down at Gianlucca, but he was engrossed in feeding the last of the bread to the ducks. ‘I don’t have a lover or a husband, or whatever the au fait term is nowadays.’
Romeo attributed the relief that poured through him to not having to deal with another tangent in this already fraught, woefully ill-planned situation. ‘In that case there shouldn’t be a problem in discussing this further at my hotel.’
‘That wasn’t why I refused to come with you. I have a life to get on with, Romeo. And Lucca has a schedule that I try to keep to so his day isn’t disrupted, otherwise he gets cranky. I need to fix his dinner in half an hour and put him to bed so I can get back to the restaurant.’
He stiffened. ‘You go to work after he’s asleep?’
Her mouth compressed. ‘Not every night, but yes. I live above the restaurant and my assistant manager lives in the flat next door. She looks after him on the nights I work.’
‘That is unacceptable.’
Her eyes widened with outrage. ‘Excuse me?’ she hissed.
‘From now on you will not leave him in the care of strangers.’
Hurt indignation slid across her face. ‘If you knew me at all, you’d know leaving my son with some faceless stranger is the last thing I’d do! Bronagh isn’t a stranger. She’s my friend as well as my assistant. And how dare you tell me how to raise my son?’
He caught her shoulders and tugged her close so they wouldn’t be overheard. ‘He is our son,’ he rasped into her ear. ‘His safety and well-being have now become my concern as much as yours, gattina.’ The endearment slipped out again, but he deemed it appropriate, so he didn’t allow the tingle that accompanied the term to disturb him too much. ‘Put your claws away and let’s take him back to your flat. You’ll feed him and put him to bed and then we’ll talk, sì?’
He pulled back and looked down at her, noting her hectic colour and experiencing that same punch to his libido that had occurred earlier.
Dio, he needed this added complication like a bullet in the head.
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
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