I beam at him. “That’s good because I’m more than a little smitten too.”
We meet in a soft, slow, sumptuous kiss, and I melt against him, feeling safe and protected despite the precariousness of my situation.
We smile at one another when we break the kiss. “We need to make tracks,” he says, looking apologetic as he traces my lower lip with his thumb. His eyes blaze with heat, and I’m sure mine look the same. “If you need time to think about everything, I can organize some of my men to take you back to the penthouse, and Elio and I can go to Sunday lunch alone.”
“You can’t get rid of me that easily,” I tease, running my fingers along the back of his neck. “I’m excited to meet more of your friends, and I don’t want to go back to the penthouse alone.”
“Are you sure?”
“Absolutely.” Reluctantly, I climb off his lap and extend my hand. “Let’s go get your son.”
Cristian bundles me into a hug. “I’m so grateful you came into our lives, Sloane.”
A messy ball of emotion clogs my throat, and I wrap my arms around him as I squeeze my eyes shut, trying to ward off the wave of guilt threatening to engulf me. “I’m the lucky one,” I whisper.
He tips my chin back. “Until we’ve talked more, we need to keep this under wraps. Especially around Elio.”
“I understand,” I say, shucking out of his embrace.
He folds his hand around mine as we start the walk back to the house. “But know this much, Sloane.” His gorgeous green eyes bore into mine with an obsessive intensity that sends shivers of desire racing through me. “As soon as we have it all worked out, I will be shouting about you from the rooftops because you’remine,and I want everyone to know it.”
27
SLOANE
“This is Sloane,” Elio says, tugging on my hand and dragging me down the hallway of Cristian’s friends’ house on Long Island. “She’s my new nanny, and she’s awesome at basketball.”
Cristian chuckles as we enter a large, homey kitchen that smells like every food lover’s dream. “Sloane is setting the benchmark high.”
Delicious aromas scent the air, and my stomach rumbles appreciatively, which is a miracle because I’ve felt ill all day thinking of how furious Pablo must be now he’s lost contact with me. My nerves are stretched tight, my chest a twisted mass of anxiety, and it has effectively slaughtered my appetite.
“That’s high praise indeed,” an older guy with white-blond hair says. He smiles and extends his hand. “I’m Fiero. This is my wife, Valentina, and our son, Armani.” His arm circles Valentina’s shoulders. She’s stunning with wavy black hair, piercing green eyes, and the most incredible flawless skin. A cute little dark-haired boy is propped on her hip, wriggling and trying to get down.
“It’s lovely to meet you, Sloane,” she says. “I’ve heard lots of wonderful things about you.”
“Here, I’ll take him.” Fiero reaches for the little guy, instantly setting him down on his feet.
“El, El,” he babbles, wobbling toward Elio on chubby legs.
“He’s walking! Look, Daddy!” Elio shrieks. “Armani can walk now.”
“I can see, buddy. It won’t be long before he’s shooting hoops with you.”
Elio hugs the little guy. “Good job, buddy,” he says, gently patting Armani on the head.
Valentina and I trade matching smiles. It’s too cute for words.
Cristian crouches down and holds up his hand. “Hey there, Armani.”
Armani emits a high-pitched screech, then a few babbles before softly slapping his hand against Cristian’s in a high five.
“He’s adorable,” I tell Valentina.
“He’s the best.” Her eyes radiate love and affection as she stares at her son. “We must be insane, but we’ll have another little bundle of joy in a few months.” She smooths a hand over her softly rounded tummy.
“Congratulations. You’ll have your hands full.”
“I wouldn’t have it any other way,” she says as the doorbell chimes. “Excuse me while I let our other guests in.” She walks off, heading out of the kitchen to answer the door.
