Will Bo, wary of relationships after the death of her last lover, take a risk on Tommaso? And how will their relationship be affected by the presence of Matteo, who is finding adjusting to his new life hard? When a disturbing incident reminds them all that life is short, Tommaso and Bo make a decision that will change their lives.
Will love—in all its forms—conquer all?
Tommaso opened his eyes and stared up at the ceiling. Blank white tiles. Every part of his body hurt, but he swept his eyes over the room. Raffaelo noticed he was awake and smiled.
“Hey, brother … how do you feel?”
“Like I just did four rounds with Mike Tyson.’ Tommaso found he could move his arms and legs, and attempted to sit up. Raffaelo was at his side in an instant.
“Wait, wait! You have tubes and wires and …”
He helped Tommaso sit up—which Tommaso immediately regretted when his head swam. “Jesus … what happened?”
“You were run off the road; a drunk driver. You’ve only been out a few hours … God, Tommaso …” Raffaelo’s voice broke, then he put his head in his hands. “Thank God you’re okay.”
Tommaso went still, gazing at his brother, his memories returning. “Oh … no … what about Matteo? Perdita?”
Raffaelo’s eyes were full of sorrow. “Tommaso … Perdita is dead. Killed instantly, they say. Matteo was brought in a little while ago—we think he has concussion, like you, but nothing major. Inca is with him now.”
Tommaso felt as if he had been kicked in the chest. “Perdita’s … dead?”
“I’m so sorry.”
The two brothers sat in silence for the longest time, trying to come to terms with the horror of what had happened. Then, steeling himself, Tommaso took a deep breath in and looked steadily at his brother. “The DNA test.”
Raffaelo nodded slowly. “The lab called while we were in here, a few hours ago.”
Not knowing whether he wanted to know the answer, Tommaso asked the question.
He looked down at the sleeping boy, putting a hand out to touch the dark curls, so like his own.
I am a father.
Tommaso Winter, still heavily medicated, but insisting on seeing his son, sat by the boy’s bed. Matteo, the doctors assured him, would be fine after some rest and recuperation, but Tommaso knew that when he awoke, he would hear the worst news of his life.
Tommaso looked over at Inca and Raffaelo. “I don’t know how to do this,” he said simply. “How to tell him his mother is gone.”
Inca got up and came to sit by him, taking his hands in hers. “There is no easy way, Tommaso. Just be honest and reassure him that he will be looked after and loved.” She studied him, seeing the uncertainty in his eyes. “Tommaso, you are not alone. We three have always stuck together, and we always will. Matteo will have his father and his aunt and uncle, and all of us would die to protect him.”
He smiled and kissed her cheek. “Thank you, bella. I just hope I’ll be enough.”
“You will be …”
Four months later …
Tommaso remembered Inca’s words that night, that terrible night, and felt a wave of gratitude to his sister-in-law. She and Raffaelo had been nothing but committed to helping Matteo and Tommaso out. And he was grateful, but he still felt he was a tightrope walker with no net. Matteo missed his mother, to whom he had been completely bonded, only to be thrown into this life with three strangers. Luckily, Matteo had gravitated towards Inca and her natural warmth, and she had stepped up into the role of aunt/mother substitute, but now Tommaso felt wretched. One, because he still had no idea what he was doing with his son, and two, because Raffaelo had confided the couple’s inability to conceive their own child.
“I feel like I’m rubbing salt into the wound,” he told his brother, and, although Raffaelo assured him Inca was okay, he sometimes saw the sadness in her face. Tommaso had sold his place in Venice and relocated back to Sorrento, but he could not expect Inca and Raffaelo to take up the slack any more. He needed to find a way to get through to Matteo.
He watched him now, playing on the lawn outside the villa. Inca was chasing him around, making him scream with laughter. Raffaelo came to sit down next to his brother. Tommaso nodded at Inca and Matteo. “How does she do that? I mean,” he turned wide, confused eyes on his brother. “How does she know exactly what makes him laugh like that? And what to say to him to make him sleep okay?”
Raffaelo grinned, and Tommaso waved a finger at him. “And don’t give me that ‘Because she’s amazing’ line again. I know she’s amazing, okay? I just need to know how …”
“Tommaso, calm down. Inca does it because she tries stuff with him and checks out if he responds. She doesn’t know any secrets we don’t.”
They watched as Inca picked Matteo up, swinging him in the air, then tucking him under her arm and pretending she couldn’t see him. Tommaso grinned as Matteo protested loudly, then burst into giggles when Inca ‘found’ him.
Raffaelo grinned proudly. “You’re right, though; she is amazing.”
“Shut up.”
Inca was looking very shifty, later, when Raffaelo came into their bedroom. He narrowed his eyes at her. “What are you up to?”
“Nothing.” She tried to keep a straight face, but he grabbed her and tickled her until she was shrieking with laughter.
“Spill it,” he said, using a mock-threatening voice as he pinned her arms above her head and laid on top of her. She grinned and kissed him.
“Okay … well, let’s just say I have a friend who has a young son and I may have invited her to come stay for a while.”
Raffaelo released her hands, and she immediately started to unbutton his shirt. “Huh. That was the big secret?”
“Ah-ha.” Her mouth was on his nipple now, her tongue teasing it. Raffaelo gazed down at her.
“Wait a minute …”
Inca tried and failed to look innocent. “What?”
“Which friend?”
“Huh?” Her tongue on his nipple began to work faster, obviously trying to distract him. He pulled away and caught her face between his palms, trying not to grin.
“Which friend?”
She shrugged. “Bo.”
“Bo Kennedy?”
She nodded and pulled his face down for a kiss. That did distract him, and she’d gotten him all the way naked before he stopped her again. She groaned, feeling his cock against her thigh, ready for her, but Raffaelo wouldn’t budge until she answered his questions.
“No, woman, you’re not getting this until you answer me.”
She told him she had invited Bo because he had a son and because she had liked the Englishwoman immensely at their wedding.
Raffaelo wasn’t fooled for a moment. “You’re match-making.”
“Am not.”
“Inca.”
She grinned unabashedly. “Maybe.”
Raffaelo rolled his eyes and sighed. “You think this is a good idea?”
“Seriously, I do, if only because Bo has a young son too; and she and Tommaso did get flirty at our wedding. I figured …”
“I know what you figured, you bad girl,” and he thrust his cock deep inside her, making her gasp in shock. She wound her legs around his hips as he moved, her hips rocking in rhythm with his. “You figured you’d kill two birds with one stone.”
Inca grinned up at him, her body undulating under him, her silky skin against his. “Is that so bad?”
“I’m done talking about my brother’s sex life now,” he growled, and she giggled as he kissed her neck, thrusting harder and deeper into her as they fucked.
“God, I love you, Raffaelo Winter …”
Bo Kennedy managed to wrangle her young son, Tiger, into the limousine that Inca had sent for them, and breathed a sigh of relief. She loved Italy, loved the heat, the beauty, the people, but she had forgotten just how difficult it was to travel with a six-year-old.
When Kit was alive, it was easier, she thought with a pang. Her lover, Ki
t Mallory, had been killed by an assassin’s bullet, saving Bo’s life, and she still grieved for him. They had had a sexual, if antagonistic, relationship, but she had loved him with all her heart. The best thing though, had been that he and Tiger had adored each other, and she knew Tiger missed his presence as much as she did.
Still … seeing Tommaso Winter again was something that made a little curl of desire inside of her flare up. He and his brother were two of the handsomest, most sensual men she had ever met, and she had adored Inca straight away. If she was being truthful, she had a feeling Inca was doing some match-making, and usually, as a strident, independent woman, she would have resisted … but Tommaso Winter … with those intense light green eyes and dark hair …
Yum.
Bo grinned to herself as the limousine made its way along the streets of Naples. What a glorious place, she thought now, and Tiger, staring out of the window, looked wide-eyed and impressed.
That’s a good start, she thought, and when they arrived at Inca and Raffaelo’s villa, Tiger was quickly out of the car and exploring the lush gardens.
Inca hugged Bo. “It’s so good to see you.”
They spent the afternoon chatting and drinking wine on the patio, as Tiger played quite happily by himself. Then, as evening began to fall, Bo took a long, cool shower and changed for dinner while Inca kept Tiger busy helping her in the kitchen. Bo dressed in a cotton dress that fell lightly over her breakneck curves and shoved her blonde hair into a messy ponytail, applying only the lightest makeup.
She heard Tiger chatting away to Inca as she walked to the kitchen, then her eyes widened when she saw the feast they had prepared. Huge salads, piles of fresh bread, and fresh fish, cooked to perfection. Bowls of fresh fruit salad, and a large, decadent chocolate cake. Inca blushed when Bo complimented her. “I thought we’d go a little plain, but still delicious, tonight, so the kids don’t get freaked out.”
“Good idea … but I wouldn’t call this plain. God, I’m going to put on even more weight, aren’t I?”
“You and me both—but do we care?”
Bo grinned at her friend. “Hell, no.”
They were interrupted by a call from the hallway. “Hey, kids.”
Raffaelo walked in and kissed Bo’s cheek, then she felt her cheeks flame as Tommaso walked in behind him, holding the hand of a shy, little curly-headed boy who could only be his son.
Tommaso kissed Bo’s cheeks too, lingering a little, meeting her gaze. “It’s wonderful to see you again, Bo.”
She smiled. “You too, Tommaso … and who’s this little guy?”
Tommaso pushed a reluctant Matteo forward a little. “This is Matteo. Matty, this is our friend, Bo. Say hello.”
Matteo shook Bo’s hand very seriously. Bo hid a grin. “Matteo, it’s very nice to meet you—this is Tiger. Tiger, come ’ere.”
Tiger and Matteo studied each other for a long minute. “’Allo,” said Tiger in his broad London accent. “Wanna come play outside with me?”
Matteo was hesitant, looking up at Tommaso, who nodded encouragingly. “Okay.”
Dinner was out on the patio, a riotous evening of laughter and talking, and Bo found herself growing fonder of this little group of people. Tiger and Matteo seemed to get along well, even though Tiger was a monster at the dinner table; he’d always been easily distracted, and now that he had a new friend and somewhere new to explore, getting him to sit still was Bo’s new nightmare.
“For God’s sake, child,” she groaned, as he scooted from the table for the fourth time. The others laughed, and Tommaso gave a little nod to Matteo, who followed his friend.
“Listen.” Tommaso leaned over to Bo. “I’m grateful Tiger is here. It’s the most animated I’ve seen Matteo since his mother passed.”
Bo looked at Tommaso. His delicious eyes were ringed with black circles, and he looked exhausted … and completely desirable. “I’m so sorry, Tommaso. It must have been awful.”
“It was.” Tommaso’s merry eyes were, for once, serious. “The worst thing is … I don’t know if I’m ever doing the right thing for Matteo. Not ever. I give him some food, then I think, wait, is that what he needs for his nutrition? Or, I take him somewhere to entertain him, and wonder if it’s really appropriate.”
Bo hid a smile. “Are you taking him to strip clubs? Already?”
Tommaso laughed. “No, not quite yet.”
“Then stop worrying. Actually, I should warn you; you never stop worrying. About everything. Comes with being a parent.”
“So, this walker-on-a-tightrope feeling?”
“Get used to it.”
Tommaso grimaced. “Thanks for the pep talk.”
Bo laughed. “You’re welcome.” She realized that Inca and Raffaelo had slipped from their seats and were walking around the garden, obviously giving them space. The way Raffaelo looked at Inca made Bo’s heart ache. Tommaso’s hand was next to hers on the table, so close she could feel his body heat, and a pulse began to beat between her legs. Tommaso met her gaze, and her insides melted.
“We will have to spend some time together while you are here.”
Bo could only nod dumbly. Tommaso’s fingers gently touched her hand and, as if it was totally naturally, they linked with hers. Bo’s heart was hammering against her ribs.
The moment was broken by a wail. Matteo. Bo and Tommaso were up immediately, but by the time they got to the kids, Matteo was fine again.
“What happened?”
Tiger looked up at them with a steady gaze. “We found a snail that got smashed, but I told Matty it was okay. He was in heaven now, with Kit and Matty’s mummy, and they were looking after it.”
Bo felt her heart clench at the mention of Kit’s name, but Tommaso smiled at Tiger. “Good job, Tiger.”
“Fanks,” he said in his broad accent, then immediately got back to playing with his new friend.
Bo realized she was holding hands with Tommaso, but was loathe to let go. She saw Inca glance at their linked hands and saw the gleeful gleam in her eyes. “Come back to the table and I’ll get the chocolate cake. Kids, you want some cake?”
After dinner, they lingered over coffee, then Inca excused herself for a little while. After a half hour, she came out of the house. “Matteo, Tiger? Have you ever had a blanket fort? Come inside and see.”
Curious, the other adults followed the kids in, and saw that in one of the guest rooms, Inca had indeed built a blanket fort for the kids. Two sleeping bags lay on a mattress, fresh pajamas on the pillows. Inca looked sheepish.
“I just thought they could stay here for the night; give both of you a rest.”
Inca Sardee Winter, you are a minx, Bo thought, knowing exactly what Inca was up to. But she hid her grin and bent down to speak to Tiger. “Would you like that, Tigs? Want to stay here with Matteo?”
Tiger nodded enthusiastically, then looked at Matteo. “I would. What about Matty?”
“Me too.” Matteo looked excited at the new adventure, but then looked uncertain. “Can we still have cake?”
Inca laughed. “Of course you can. Then, in the morning, we can have breakfast in here, if you’d like.”
After the kids had exhausted themselves and fallen asleep, Inca asked Raffaelo if he would ‘Come help me in the kitchen.’ Bo was sure Raffaelo murmured the word ‘Pimp’ to his wife.
Tommaso grinned at Bo. “Subtle, isn’t she?”
“She’s gorgeous.”
Tommaso laughed and nodded. “Wants to make the whole world happy.” He looked over to her. “It’s working.”
For a second, Bo wavered. Could she really risk her heart again? But, no, she wanted this man … and the way his hand was drifting up and down her bare back. She looked at him squarely.
“I should tell you … I don’t do commitment. I’m here for a few days, then I have to get back to London to record my new album.”
“Understood.”
“So, if we do this, then realize … it’s friends with benefits.”
>
Tommaso lifted her hand to his mouth and kissed it. “Bo … I understand.” He leaned over and pressed his lips to her, and Bo felt her reservations slip.
“Tommaso Winter … before I change my mind. Take me to your place.”
Tommaso grinned triumphantly.
An hour later, they stood face-to-face in his bedroom. The room was hot, the evening humid, and, as he slowly peeled her dress from her, Bo felt a drop of sweat trail down her spine. “I think I need to shower,” she said, before Tommaso covered her mouth with his. Kissing her, he peeled her underwear from her, then shed his own clothes. He swept her up into his arms, Bo protesting about his back, but Tommaso didn’t seem to register the weight of her curves.
He cranked the shower on, and they stood underneath the cool spray, feeling the relief from the heat. Bo kissed his mouth, then dropped to her knees to take his rock-hard cock into her mouth. God, he was huge, but she teased the tip of him, wanting all of him inside her, tasting the salty pre-cum. She brought him expertly to a peak, shooting thick, creamy cum into her mouth, then he carried her, still wet, to the bed, where he pushed her legs apart and found her sex with his tongue. Bo closed her eyes and gave herself over to the sensations drilling up her body.
Tommaso sucked on her clit, then teased it into a state of such hardness that he heard Bo groan again and again, his tongue dipping deep into her cunt. She tasted of soap and clean skin. His cock was almost painfully hard, but he wanted to prolong the anticipation. His teeth grazed her clit, and Bo yelped, his fingers tangling in his hair.
His own hands kneaded the soft flesh of her hips; she really was so soft and curvy that he reveled in her sensational body. He brought her to orgasm before moving to claim her mouth again, his cock rigid and ready. He felt her spread her legs, welcoming, inviting him in, and slowly, oh so slowly, he entered her, keeping his gaze locked on hers as his engorged cock slid into her warm, wet cunt.
Both of them shivered as he filled her, panting for air, and they began to move as one, Tommaso thrusting harder and deeper, Bo opening her legs wider to take him in balls deep. Their fingers linked, their breath mingled as they fucked each other, feral and wanton in their desire for one another. Tommaso began to thrust harder than Bo had ever experienced, his eyes intense on her, and the flame of danger in them made her come harder and longer than she had known.
Dr. Orgasm (A Holiday Romance Collection Book 2) Page 39
