The Sicilian's Secret Son

by Angela Bissell

  She nodded and moved towards the doors, hoping the heaters weren’t too warm. A little crisp air to cool her libido might be a good thing. She settled against the cushions of a wicker chair while Luca lowered his large frame into the one adjacent.

  His gaze settled on her. ‘Did Ethan go to sleep all right?’

  ‘Yes. Out like a light.’

  After lunch, Ethan had finally got his wish to visit the beach. Luca’s driver had taken them to Mondello, a small seaside resort close to the city. The beach itself was a long, curving strip of soft white sand sloping gently into clear aquamarine waters.

  ‘In summer it’s packed and not so pleasant,’ Luca had said. ‘But the water won’t get warm enough for swimming for another month.’

  Ethan still would have gone in if she’d let him, but he’d settled for paddling in the shallows and playing in the sand. Later, at the villa, Eva joined them for an early supper while Luca caught up on some work. Still buzzing, Ethan had regaled his grandmother with a long-winded account of his day.

  Annah looked at Luca. ‘Thank you for today,’ she said softly. ‘He had a wonderful time.’

  Their gazes held for a long moment and then suddenly, without warning, and for no reason Annah could pinpoint, tears filled her eyes. Feeling stupid, she put her glass down, got up and walked to the edge of the terrace where the pool of light from the outdoor lamps met the darkness.

  ‘Annah.’

  Luca’s voice, so bone-meltingly rich and deep, came from behind her. His hands wrapped around her upper arms and eased her back against his hard body, reminding her of the night at Fendalton Hall when she’d stalked away from the dinner table and he’d come after her—and then kissed her. She’d wanted him then and she wanted him now, more than ever.

  ‘Cara.’ His big hands stroked up and down her arms. ‘What is it?’

  Angry at herself, she blinked away her tears. Why was she so emotional? She inhaled deeply, catching the soothing scents of rosemary and jasmine from the gardens below—and a hint of spicy cologne from the man behind her.

  ‘I’m sorry,’ she said quietly. ‘I just... I can’t stop thinking how unfair it is that you and Ethan missed out on four years of knowing each other.’ She turned in his arms and looked up at him. ‘How could your father have done that to you? Luca, he told me to have an abortion—to get rid of his own grandchild.’ She shook her head, her horror and disbelief as fresh and heart-wrenching as if she’d squared off with Franco Cavallari only yesterday. ‘Why?’ she said, her eyes searching his. ‘Help me understand why our son spent the first four years of his life not knowing his father.’

  Something bleak moved through Luca’s eyes. Something that made Annah shiver.

  ‘Come back to the warmth,’ he said, drawing her by the hand to a wicker sofa instead of the chairs.

  They sat on the cushions, their bodies angled towards each other. Luca’s arm stretched along the top of the sofa, his hand close to Annah’s shoulder.

  ‘I was sixteen when I learnt what my father was truly capable of,’ he said, his voice gruff but controlled. ‘It was the worst moment of my life up until then. It turned everything I thought I knew about him into a lie and yet... I couldn’t accept it. Couldn’t believe the man I’d idolised as a boy existed only in my head.’

  His lips twisted into a bitter smile. ‘I was naive enough—and arrogant enough—to believe I could change him, turn him into the man I wanted him to be. I went to university in the States then came back and joined the family business, thinking I’d convince him to legitimise our operations.’

  Annah waited, her heart clenching in her chest because she knew there was no happy ending to this story.

  ‘I actually thought I was succeeding.’ His short bark of laughter was devoid of humour. ‘But Franco played me. Sent me to London to acquire and manage a transport company. Let me think he was cleaning up his act, turning over a new leaf. But the drugs, the money laundering... He never intended to stop.’

  Luca moved his hand along the top of the sofa and gently caught a tendril of her hair between his fingers. ‘I finally confronted him a few days before I met you. Franco was livid when I threatened to walk. Said I’d never be welcomed back.’ He paused, gaze fixed on his fingers as he toyed absently with her hair. ‘It was the last time we ever spoke to each other.’

  Annah thought back to that night in London, recalling the glimpses of something darker beneath the surface of Luca’s charm. No wonder.

  He carried on. ‘Perhaps sending you away was my father’s idea of revenge.’ He shook his head, his eyes meeting hers, something stark and desolate in them. ‘You should never have had to face him. I should have considered the possibility of consequences, given you a contact number—’

  Annah laid her fingers against his lips. ‘Don’t,’ she said, and all the tumbling, twisting emotions she couldn’t get a handle on today suddenly flooded into her chest and made her heart hurt unbearably. Her eyes prickled again, and she didn’t blink fast enough this time; tears escaped, one from each eye, the drops hovering on her lashes for a second before trickling down her cheeks.

  Luca’s arms came around her and she didn’t resist; it felt too good. She pressed her face against his shoulder, letting his warmth and scent envelop her, accepting comfort. Just for a moment. ‘I’m sorry,’ she said, her voice muffled against his tear-dampened shirt. ‘I don’t know why I’m so emotional.’

  He eased her back, framed her face with his hands, and brushed his thumbs across her wet cheeks. With astonishing tenderness he kissed her forehead, and then his hands slid to her shoulders as if to gently set her away.

  Everything in her protested. ‘No,’ she whispered, her hand tangling in the front of his shirt, her gaze dropping to his mouth.

  Awareness sizzled in the air.

  ‘Annah.’ Her name was a deep rasp in his throat.

  She lifted her eyes back to his, saw they were dark and molten. Emboldened by the desire she saw there, she let her hand slide to the front of his trousers and found him gratifyingly hard. She cupped him and heard his breath hiss between his teeth. ‘You want me,’ she said huskily.

  His jaw was rigid. ‘You’re upset. Vulnerable. I won’t take advan—’

  Annah brought her mouth to his, silencing his chivalrous protest.

  For long, excruciating seconds, nothing happened. A silent plea rang in her head. Kiss me back!

  Finally, a low groan rose up his throat, and then he dragged her against the hard heat of his body and moved his mouth against hers. Relief flickered, followed by a surge of excitement, a wave of heat and need that sent her pulse rate into the stratosphere.

  His tongue stroked along the seam of her lips and they parted willingly, inviting him to delve deeper. Annah tasted coffee and whisky and something salty—the residue of her tears, perhaps. She wound her arms around his neck, pressing closer, her insides melting beneath a blaze of longing.

  When Luca drew back, she actually whimpered. He looked straight into her eyes. ‘Are you sure?’

  ‘Yes,’ she said adamantly.

  Eyes glittering, he stood and lifted her, one arm around her back, the other under her knees, and carried her inside, up the sweeping staircase and into his bedroom.

  * * *

  Luca set Annah on her feet next to his bed, sliding her body slowly down his, letting the brush of her soft curves against him inflame his desire.

  His muscles trembled with the effort of holding himself in check.

  There would be no repeat of last night. He would control his tumultuous need and make love to her slowly, attentively, with all the care the mother of his child deserved.

  Tangling his hands in her golden hair, he tilted her face up and kissed her slowly, deeply, sampling her sweetness with his tongue, reacquainting himself with the shape and texture of her soft, plump lips.

  His blood
thrummed.

  Annah wanted this, had initiated it and persisted even when he’d offered her the chance to change her mind. She might not realise it yet, but this acknowledgement of their chemistry—her willingness to surrender to it—was her first step towards reaching the same conclusion he had. That marriage would offer them not only a logical, practical solution but an eminently enjoyable one rich with its own rewards and pleasures.

  He ran his hands down her back, gripped the bottom of her silky top, and whispered against her lips, ‘Lift your arms, cara.’

  She complied and he lifted the top up and over her head, throwing it onto a soft chair in the corner of the room.

  One at a time, he slipped the straps of her bra down her arms, pressing an open-mouthed kiss to each bare shoulder as he went. Reaching around her, he undid the clasp, tugged the bra down and off, and sent it in the same direction as her top.

  He stood back and let his eyes devour those beautiful breasts.

  ‘Magnifico,’ he murmured.

  Annah’s expression turned shy. Lifting her arms, she began to cover herself. But Luca stopped her, holding her wrists and spreading her arms wide.

  ‘Let me see you,’ he said and cupped his hand under one breast, savouring its softness and weight against his palm before dipping his head and sucking the tightly budded nipple into his mouth.

  She shivered and made a low, breathy sound of pleasure that fired a pulse of heat directly into his groin.

  Forcing himself to go slowly, he knelt and removed her shoes, trying not to tickle the sensitive arches of her feet. He unzipped her trousers and eased them down, removing her knickers at the same time.

  When she stood before him naked, he leaned back on his haunches and ran his gaze appreciatively up her body, taking in the long lines of her legs, the graceful curves of her hips, and the neat thatch of golden curls at her centre. Higher up, her breasts rose and fell rapidly, as if she were out of breath and struggling to get enough air into her lungs.

  Luca palmed her hips and brought his mouth to the soft, smooth skin just below her navel, a sense of wonder enveloping him as he pressed his lips to the place where she had been round with his child.

  What had pregnancy been like for her? Had she suffered with morning sickness? Had she craved unusual foods? Had she laboured long and hard to bring their son into the world?

  There was so much he didn’t know. So much he had missed out on.

  ‘Luca?’ she said, her voice soft, uncertain.

  He rose to his feet and kissed her until she trembled in his arms, and then he lifted her onto the bed, laying her across its width and tugging her hips to the edge of the mattress.

  His heart pounded unevenly, as if he were an unfledged youth making love to a woman for the first time in his life.

  Crazy.

  Why did she affect him like this?

  He no more knew the answer now than he had five years ago in London.

  Dropping to his knees on the floor, he parted her legs and heard her suck in her breath as he hooked them over his shoulders and kissed his way down the silken length of one inner thigh. When he reached his destination, he stroked his fingertips through soft, golden curls and into folds already swollen and slick with arousal. He inhaled, dragging the scent of her delicate musk into his lungs, and then he tasted, running his tongue along that seam of hot, feminine flesh.

  ‘Oh...’ She groaned, her hips bucking and lifting until Luca splayed his hand across her stomach, anchoring her to the bed.

  He pushed his finger inside her, amazed at how tight she was. How ready. One more hot glide of his tongue in the right spot and—

  Her fingers plunged into his hair and she cried out as her internal muscles clenched hard and then rippled around his finger.

  Annah’s body went limp, but little gasped moans continued to rise from her throat.

  Luca’s blood roared with satisfaction. Easing his shoulders out from under her legs, he trailed kisses up her body, pausing to circle his tongue around her navel then to lavish attention on her breasts before finally taking possession of her mouth.

  ‘Take me,’ she whispered against his lips, and those husky words almost had him spilling inside his boxers.

  He pushed off the bed, stripped off his clothes, and sheathed himself with a condom. He could hear nothing but the thud of his pulse and the rasp of his breathing as he joined Annah on the bed again.

  With a single, sure stroke he sank deep into her velvety heat, the sheer ecstasy of their bodies joining as one pushing a massive, shuddering sigh from the depths of his chest. Her long legs circled his hips and her hands gripped his shoulders, her beautiful body trembling and bowing beneath him as he rode them both towards climax.

  His heart thundered as white-hot sensation ripped through his centre.

  Annah clung to him, a sob wrenching from her throat as they careened over the edge together.

  Perfect.

  The word pulsed in Luca’s head as he rolled onto his back and took her with him, holding her close as aftershocks continued to quake through their bodies.

  They were perfect together.

  Why would he ever want another woman when he could have Annah? The mother of his child. Mother to many more of his children if he got his way.

  A fierce swell of unfamiliar emotion surged in his chest. For a moment he felt intensely discomfited, until he recognised the emotions for what they were.

  Possessiveness.

  Protectiveness.

  It made sense he would feel those things. Annah and Ethan were his family. A man was bound by honour and duty to protect his family. It was the Sicilian way.

  He stroked a possessive hand over Annah’s hip. Protecting her and their son would be a damned sight easier once they carried his name. His resolve strengthened. Binding them to him was the only acceptable solution.

  Annah would become his wife.

  Sooner rather than later.

  * * *

  Annah awoke with a violent start and sat bolt upright. She blinked rapidly, her heart rate galloping, her breathing fast and uneven. Her body ached in strange places and her mouth was so dry each gulp of air scraped her throat like a razor.

  Where was she?

  Ethan.

  Blindly, she threw off the covers, stumbled to her feet and walked straight into a wall. A rather odd wall, for it radiated heat and somehow she bounced right off it.

  ‘Annah.’

  A man’s voice. A voice she still recognised after all these years. A voice that should have terrified but soothed instead with its deep, measured cadence.

  ‘Wake up.’

  Oh, God. It was definitely him. She would never forget that seductive baritone—or the wicked things he had done to her body. She threw a panicked look over her shoulder. Why couldn’t she see him? And why was he telling her to wake up? What did he want?

  No...

  Ethan.

  She sucked in her breath, opened her mouth to scream, but the wall of heat suddenly engulfed her and then something hot and firm covered her mouth.

  For a moment, a sense of comfort and security enveloped her like a cosy blanket. Then her body stirred in those strange places where she ached, tiny pings of sensation darting along her nerve endings.

  Annah came fully awake. She stood beside the bed, held up by strong arms, her breasts squished against the hot, hard planes of a muscular chest.

  Luca’s mouth was on hers, and she was kissing him back.

  A sound of surprise squeaked in her throat.

  He lifted his head. His gaze locked on hers, eyes dark with concern. ‘Are you all right?’ he said after a moment.

  She pulled in a shaky breath and nodded.

  ‘You were going to scream,’ he said.

  She nodded again, not yet trusting her voice. He must have kissed
her to silence her. Thank heavens. Imagine if she had screamed. Goodness knew who might have come running and discovered her here in Luca’s room. Victor. Celeste. Eva. The very idea made her cheeks sting with mortification.

  Luca stroked her hair back from her face. ‘Were you sleepwalking?’

  ‘Sort of,’ she croaked. ‘More a panic attack combined with not being properly awake.’ She shrugged, the movement jerky. ‘It’s nothing. It used to happen a lot when Ethan was a baby.’

  He frowned. ‘Something usually triggers it?’

  ‘Not really.’ She eased away from his bare chest and noticed the drawstring pyjama bottoms riding low on his hips and, lower still, the unmistakable tenting of the cotton fabric. Her gaze darted back to his.

  He shrugged, a sexy half-smile slanting his mouth. ‘I’ve just been kissing a naked woman.’

  Reminded of the fact she wore not a stitch, she clasped her arms across her front and looked at the chair on which her clothes lay. ‘I should get dressed and go check on Ethan.’

  ‘I looked in on him twenty minutes ago,’ Luca said, surprising her. ‘He’s fine. Asleep.’

  She swallowed. ‘What time is it?’

  ‘It’s only midnight.’ He tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. ‘Wait there.’ He strode off, disappeared into his enormous walk-in wardrobe, and came back with a soft towelling robe.

  He held it open and she slid her arms in. ‘Thank you,’ she murmured, ridiculously touched by the simple gesture. She tied the robe at her waist and noticed the pool of soft lighting in a corner of the room where a lamp, a coffee table, and two upholstered chairs resided. An open laptop sat on the table. ‘Were you working?’ she asked.

  ‘Just keeping on top of some things.’

  She bit her lip for a second. ‘I... I could go.’

  In answer, Luca slipped his arm around her waist and pulled her tightly against him. ‘You’re not going anywhere.’ His gruff statement made her body tingle with a rush of pleasure. He tipped up her chin. ‘You’re going to tell me about these panic attacks.’