Brando was about to vibrate out of his skin. She only did that with him. Sometimes with his brothers, but he squashed it before it got too far.
Mia touched her grandfather’s lips, then pulled her finger away so quickly that it made her legs move, like she was running in place, even though she wasn’t going anywhere. It was like playing tag. She had expected him to open his mouth and make munching noises after she initiated the game.
When that failed, instead of touching his lips again, she touched his nose.
“Boop,” she said quietly, then pulled her finger back as fast as she could.
Brando and I glanced at each other at the same time, then Maggie Beautiful and me.
Luca became extremely still, then he threw his head back and roared with laughter.
It scared Mia, at first, the loudness of it. It echoed in his palace full of expensive things but not many priceless souls.
Mia’s eyes grew wide, and she hid her face in my neck, holding on tight. Her lip trembled. She was about to cry, but she didn’t. Too curious about this man to give in to her fear.
After he gained some control, he reached out and did the same to her. “Boop, boop,” he copied softly, but gave her two touches on the nose.
She scrunched up her nose, showing him her two front teeth. Then she mimicked his laughter. “Ha Ha Ha!”
“What an angel,” he said, a wide smile on his stunningly bold face, his eyes softening as he stared at her. He had nearly melted into a puddle at her feet. “Give me my granddaughter.”
He held out his arms and I almost lost my breath. I looked at Brando, even though there was no reason to.
He nodded once, slowly.He’d hurt me, his look said,but never her.
Mia went to him, staring at his face with her green doe eyes, taking him in. She touched him, as though she were blind, committing all his lines to memory.
Was it a Fausti genetic trait? The power to slay women’s hearts with open arms?Run to me for lifelong protection, the gesture seemed to convey in rock-solid certainty.
Luca ran a hand through her hair, the headband flung off during dinner, then inhaled her, closing his eyes for a moment. “You are sweet, my angel,” he murmured to her in Italian. “Just as my mother was.”
Brando gave me a questioning look.
Later, I answered it.
She offered him her finger again. This time he looked at Brando for answers. “Tell me what mynipotinawants from hernonno.”
Brando showed him. Afterwards, Luca laughed so hard thatMiacouldn’t stop.
“Ah, I see! She wants to play with hernonno. Let me eat your finger!” He growled at her, this time getting the game and making her squeal. “I see she is like hermammaandnonna. Not bothered by the bite of a beast.”
Brando ran a hand over his chest, a clear sign that he was feeling the strain of the day. That comment drove the stake in even further.
Luca turned toward Maggie Beautiful. “What does she call you, Wildflower?”
Maggie Beautiful bristled at the endearment but answered. “Magpie.”
He gave her a curious look but smiled, nonetheless. “A walk. Let us get to know our granddaughter and all of the children. Just you and I.”
She wasn’t expecting that. Neither was I. Brando’s face drained of blood. He knew his father wouldn’t hurt Mia, but to send her off with him was a stretch at this point.
Maggie Beautiful refused to answer him. He started to sing to her in Italian, as though this was their thing—how he apologized to her.
Both Mia and I stared at him. The man had the voice of an angel, matching the tenor that had serenaded us through lunch.
Brando set his hand on my lower back, breaking me out of the trance. He stared down at me, trying to figure out what the hell was going on inside of my mind.
“I will not play the whore, Luca Leone Fausti,” Maggie Beautiful whispered after he had sung a terribly romantic line about him never letting her go.
