by Leanne Banks
“That’s terrible,” she said, curious about the letter. She followed him into the den.
He sat down on the sofa and patted the seat beside him. “Do you want something to drink? I can ask the housekeeper.”
“No, I’m good,” she said, drawing in his scent and feeling a strange combination of arousal and something deeper. Something that bothered her.
He ripped open the envelope and a letter and three photos fell out. “Oh, my God,” he muttered, picking up the photos.
Nicole had never seen Rafe so moved. He covered his mouth with one of his hands as he stared at the photos for a long time. She leaned over to look at them. “They’re holding a baby,” she said. “Your parents?”
He nodded. “That’s me.” He showed her another photo. “That’s my brothers and me with my father.”
Nicole lifted her fingers to the photos and couldn’t help smiling. “You were a beautiful baby.”
He gave a rough laugh then set down the pictures. “Let’s see what crazy Aunt Emilia has to say. Dear Raphael: I am writing you because I know I’m not going to be around forever and I want you to have these photographs of yourself as a bambino. Your father sent me these when you were born and the latter photograph is from one of his last letters to me. He loved you, Damien, Michael and Leonardo very much. All of you have overcome so much. Damien in Las Vegas, you in Miami, Michael in Atlanta and Leonardo in Pennsylvania. I wish that I could have helped you after your father’s death, but I am now thankful that all of you are doing so well. Congratulations on your son, Joel. I know that he and his mother will be a source of unbelievable joy to you. With much love, Emilia.”
Rafe frowned at the letter. “How did she know about Joel? And what is this about Leo? Leo died in the same train accident as my father.” He shook his head. “She must be confused.”
“Is everything else correct?” Nicole asked.
“Yes, but-” He shook his head. “Leo in Pennsylvania. Hmmm.” He looked at the photos again, his gaze hungry. “These are the only photos of my family. What I would give for more.”
The intense emotion in his eyes grabbed at something inside her. Rafe had told her before how much he missed having photos from his family. The way he drank in the sight of those photos cut through her.
“You should make copies of those. You wouldn’t want to lose them.”
He shook his head vehemently. “I’ll scan them, too.” He paused. “You have no idea how many nights I spent wishing for just one photograph of my parents. After they died and my brothers and I were divided up, it was as if my foster family wanted to pretend my other family never existed. After a while, it became like a dream. With no photographs, I had no proof.”
Nicole felt her eyes sting with tears, her throat knot into a well of emotion. “I have something I’d like to give you,” she said. “I’ll be back in a couple of moments.”
Gnawing on her lip, she climbed the stairs and checked on Joel before she went to her suite.
She turned on her laptop and reviewed the report the P.I. had sent her. The assault charges still made her heart stutter, but she realized that Rafe had a good explanation.
She continued through the pdf file and looked at the newspaper article reporting the death of Anthony Medici. A photograph of the Medici family accompanied the article. In it, she saw four boys with dark curly hair standing in front of a tall dark-haired man and a slim woman. She wondered if Rafe even knew this photo existed.
Eyeing the printer on the desk, she printed off the photo and trimmed away the article describing his family tragedy. She took the photo downstairs and gave it to him. He studied the photograph in surprise, then met her gaze.
“Where did you find this?” he asked in a low voice.
She crossed her arms under her chest. “That’s a rather involved story for this time of night.”
“I’m not sleeping and neither are you,” he said, standing and resting one of his hands on his hip.
She dreaded telling him where she’d found the photo, but knew it had to be done. “Do you remember how you paid a P.I. to do a background check on me?”
“Yeah,” he said, studying her and nodding in understanding. “You did the same to me. Learn anything interesting?”
“It mostly just confirmed everything you’ve told me,” she said, resisting a sudden urge to fidget.
“It’s late, so let’s not beat around the bush. What bothered you? That I didn’t graduate from an Ivy League school? That my family didn’t come over on the Mayflower?”
“The assault charges,” she said, tired of hiding her worries.
Realization crossed his face. “From my bouncer days. Yeah. I told you it was my job to escort out-of-control customers from the premises. Unfortunately, by the time they got out of control, they didn’t go willingly. The charges were all dropped,” he said.
“Right,” she said, wishing that was enough to calm all her fears. “But Tabitha told me you were a bully. She said you were controlling.”
“You keep saying that.” He tilted his head as he studied her. “She didn’t tell you that I hit her, did she? I’ve never touched a woman that way. What the hell else did she tell you?”
“She didn’t say you hit her, but she kept calling you a bully,” she said.
“That’s what all these questions about assault have been about all along, right?” he asked, his voice filled with bitterness.
“I had to make sure you wouldn’t hurt Joel. I had to protect him. She said you were like our father,” she finally said.
He shrugged. “What does that mean? The only thing I know about your father is that he’s a snob and a successful businessman. I’m no snob, but I’ve done well with my business.”
“My father abused us,” she said, unable to keep it in any longer. “That’s why I avoid him. It’s why my mother left him. She got a huge settlement if she agreed not to reveal how many times he’d slapped her. Tabitha was much better at playing him than I was. He hit her a few times, but most of the time I was the target.”
He stared at her. “Your father did that? He beat you?” he asked.
Her heart twisted at the disbelief in his voice. “Don’t ask me to prove it. You don’t have to believe me, but it’s true. That’s why I had to make sure you wouldn’t hurt Joel. I would do anything to make sure that didn’t happen to him.”
He met her gaze. “I believe you. I’m not a violent man, but I would like to beat the crap out of him for touching a hair on your head.”
She took a deep breath and felt a sinking sense of relief. “So, now, maybe you understand why I want to make sure that you won’t harm Joel.”
“I would never,” he said, moving toward her. “And I would never harm you. I can’t promise, however, that I wouldn’t hurt someone who threatened Joel or you.”
She took another breath. “Hopefully that won’t happen.”
He lifted her hand to his mouth. “I wish I knew why your sister lied about me.”
Distracted by his touch, Nicole tried to summon a reason for Tabitha’s actions. “I don’t know,” she whispered. “I wish I knew, too.”
“She was wild when I first met her. I caught her taking some pills one time when we first started seeing each other. I made her swear she would stop. I thought I would be a stabilizing influence. I asked her to marry me. I thought I could help turn her around,” he said.
Although Tabitha had kept her drug usage secret, Nicole had suspected that her sister had dabbled in drugs. After Joel had been born, she’d held her breath in hopes that he hadn’t been affected.
“I always thought she was the stronger one,” she said. “When we were growing up, she would challenge my father for anything.”
“He didn’t abuse her?” he asked.
“Very rarely, but she somehow was able to dance around his anger. I still don’t know how she did it,” Nicole said.
“But you took the brunt of it,” he concluded, his voice full of disgust.
; “I don’t know why. I tried to be invisible, but it didn’t work. I was always so relieved to go back to boarding school so I could be away from him.” She glanced at him. “I don’t want you to think I’m ungrateful.”
He looked at her, perplexed. “Ungrateful?”
“I was very fortunate that my parents were wealthy enough to send me to the best schools. I received health care and education.”
“You were also abused. You didn’t deserve that.”
“I have to keep reminding myself of that fact.”
“I’ll remind you,” he said, moving closer to her, taking her into his arms.
Nicole slumped against him, inhaling his strength. She gave in to the urge to lift her hands to his hair and savored the sensation of his crisp hair in her fingers.
“This isn’t wise,” she said, but couldn’t stop herself from leaning against him.
“I disagree,” he said. “It feels right,” he said and dipped his head, taking her mouth with his.
Nicole clung to him, wishing she could inhale all of him, all of his strength so that she would never feel weak or vulnerable again.
“I want to stay with you tonight,” he muttered against her throat.
He heart quickened. “Rafe,” she said, torn in different directions.
“Tell me you don’t want me to stay,” he whispered. “Tell me you don’t want me.”
“I do,” she said, but forced herself to step away from him. She didn’t want to confuse Joel if-when Rafe lost interest in her. “But being with you is just going to make things more complicated. We can’t do this.”
Nine
Rafe picked up his brother Michael at the private airport. “Nice surprise,” he said as his brother crammed his backpack into the non-existent backseat of Rafe’s Corvette.
“Thanks for picking me up,” Michael said. “I would normally just take a morning flight, but this guy wanted to meet at 8 a.m. and I didn’t trust the airlines or the private jet service in winter.”
“It’s not winter here,” Rafe said, shifting gears and pulling away from the terminal.
Michael chuckled. “Rub it in. How’s your son? How’s Nicole?”
“Joel is great. Nicole needs some work,” Rafe said, unable to keep a growl from his voice. He decided to wait to tell Michael about Aunt Emilia’s letter when he could show him the photographs. “Tell me about the business deal that would drag you from Atlanta so you could have an o’dark-thirty meeting in Miami.”
Michael discussed the deal and twenty minutes later, Rafe pulled into the garage.
“Nice crib,” Michael said.
“Back side is better,” Rafe said with a smile. “Come inside little brother.”
Michael rolled his eyes. “Yeah, yeah.”
Leading his brother through the garage, Rafe opened the side door and heard Joel squeal.
“He’s home!”
Rafe couldn’t stop the joy that filled him. “Where’s my man?” he called, and Joel came running.
“Joel, you’re wet,” Nicole called. “Let me dry you-”
Joel skidded toward him as if the wooden floor were a Slip-n-Slide. Rafe rushed toward the boy and picked him up so he wouldn’t get hurt. “Hey, you need to dry off those feet, or you could get in trouble.”
Joel just beamed. “I been swimming. I can go from one side of the pool to the other.”
Rafe grinned at his son. “Good for you. Do you remember your Uncle Michael from Atlanta?”
“We met just before you left.”
Joel looked at Michael with a blank expression on his face.
Michael laughed. “No problem, guy. Next time I’ll bring a gift.”
Nicole appeared breathlessly. “Not necessary. He’s not at all deprived.”
Rafe looked Nicole over from head to toe. She wore a black bikini that made him want to strip it off. “Looks like the two of you have been having fun,” he said.
She nodded and turned to Michael. “Please forgive my appearance. I didn’t know we were having guests.”
“Nothing to forgive,” Michael said. “You should always dress this way for guests. It will leave all of us nearly speechless.”
Rafe tossed his brother a quelling glance. “I’ll get Carol to show you to your room.”
“But I’m enjoying this show much more,” Michael protested.
“Carol,” Rafe called, feeling protective.
His housekeeper immediately appeared. “Yes, sir.”
“Please show my brother to the blue guest room.”
“Yes, sir. Welcome home,” she said.
“Thank you,” he replied.
“Such a grouch,” Michael said, but allowed himself to be led away.
Nicole grabbed towels for Joel and herself.
“I petted a frog,” Joel announced.
“You did?” Rafe said, wrapping the towel around his son and pulling him up into his arms. “How did he feel?”
“He was slippery. Frogs are cool. I like the way they croak,” Joel said. “My teacher said we get turtles next week.”
“You like school?”
Joel nodded. “It’s fun. And I like the pool here.”
Rafe glanced at Nicole in triumph, but glimpsed a shadow of pain and uncertainty in her eyes. It stopped him. “Are you okay?”
“Of course,” she said, but the words sounded forced. “I should get Joel into a bath and then to bed.”
“I can help,” he said.
She looked as if she intended to protest, then closed her mouth. “That would be great,” she said and led Joel upstairs.
Rafe followed after her, unable to keep his gaze from her round derriere. He remembered grasping her hips as he thrust inside…Growing hard at the memory, he reined in his need. He would have her again. It was just a matter of time.
He helped Joel with bath time and after Nicole dressed him in snuggly pajamas, Rafe read two books. Joel fell asleep before Rafe finished the second story and he left his son’s room to go downstairs.
He found Nicole and Michael eating dishes of ice cream at the bar. Out of nowhere, he felt a sharp stab of jealousy. Her hair damp from a shower, Nicole wore shorts that revealed her long, lithe legs and a tank top.
“How did I miss the ice cream party?” he asked, keeping his tone light.
“I wandered into the kitchen and found Nicole with ice cream,” Michael said. “Couldn’t resist.”
Yeah, right, Rafe thought. “Is there any left?”
“I can share,” Nicole said, offering him her spoon and he felt just a bit mollified.
She lifted her spoon and he covered her hand with his and swallowed the bite of intensely chocolate ice cream. “Good,” he said.
She smiled. “I put it on the shopping list. A forbidden indulgence.”
“I’ll take another,” he said.
She lifted another spoonful to his mouth and he slid his tongue over the cold creamy confection then sucked it down his throat. He saw her eyes darken with sensual awareness.
Michael coughed. “Nicole told me you received a letter with photos from Aunt Emilia?”
Rafe nodded. “I got a copy made for you,” he said, reaching for his briefcase. He’d viewed the photos several times during the day, and each time was filled with bittersweet emotions. “It was so long ago it almost felt like pretend. A dream. This makes it more real,” he said, still surprised at the comfort the photos brought him.
Michael glanced over his shoulder. “Look. Damien’s hair is sticking straight up in that one.”
Although his chest felt tight, Rafe nodded and managed a laugh. “And Leo’s lifting his chin like he’s gunning for a fight.” He studied the faces of his mother and father. “I remember thinking Dad was so strong, never needing rest, but they both look tired.”
“What do you expect when they had to take care of four hellions like us?” Michael asked.
“The letter was strange. I’ll let you take a look at it. Emilia said that Leonardo isn’t dead. She sai
d something about him being successful in Pennsylvania.”
Rafe looked at Michael and saw his brother’s face turn pale.
“Where is she? Where is this woman? I need to talk to her,” Michael said.
Rafe shook his head. “I ran a search for a phone number from the return address, but they said she had worked as a caretaker for their children. She moved on to take another job and left no forwarding address. I’m going to put an investigator on it.”
“He couldn’t be alive,” Michael said to Rafe. “Could he?”
Rafe knew Michael had felt guilt for Leonardo’s death. After all, Michael had gotten in trouble, so Leonardo had taken his place on that fateful trip on the train to the baseball game so many years ago.
“Don’t get your hopes up,” he cautioned Michael.
“But she had pictures,” Nicole said. “Pictures of all of you. And she knew about Joel,” she said to Rafe.
“Easy to say, now that he’s here,” Rafe said.
“I know it’s strange, but-”
“Damn right it’s strange,” Rafe said. “We’re already tracking Leo. I intend to check her out, too. She could answer a lot of questions about our past. Maybe the time has come for us to get those answers.”
Ten
Rafe’s cell phone rang. He took the business call from one of his clients and left Michael with Nicole on the patio.
“It’s good of you to help Rafe through this adjustment period with Joel,” Michael said to Nicole. “Learning that he had a son knocked him sideways. Of course, he recovered because that’s what he does.”
“I’m not sure how much help he’s needed. I’m getting the impression that all the Medici brothers are quite resilient,” she said, glimpsing some of the same drive in Michael that she saw in Rafe. Michael came across as quieter and more solemn.
Michael nodded. “Necessary for survival.”
“But all of you have done more than survive. You’re all very successful.”
“True. I think it’s partly a control issue,” he said and gave a slight smile. “Never want to be poor, never want to be at the mercy of someone else, never want to care too much that losing something or someone will blow our world apart.” He shrugged. “That one has gone by the wayside for Damien and Rafe. Damien fell in love and got married and now Rafe has a son he would give his life for.”
