“You need to eat,il mio sole.” Tommaso’s voice drifts from behind me, and my damn heart flutters in my chest. Etta rises with a small smile, and he murmurs, “Thank you, Etta.”
“We’ll bake some more today,” she says to me, touching my hand. “Hopefully, some sweets might coax that appetite back.”
She leaves, and I watch her over my shoulder until she closes our bedroom door, then I lift my eyes to Tommaso.
Just like always, he’s otherworldly gorgeous in his power suit and neatly styled dark hair, that chiseled body, and those startlingly crystal-blue eyes.
He gently runs his knuckle down my cheek, then picks up a piece of melon from the plate and brings it to my lips. After I eat it, he lifts me, blanket and all, and sits me in his lap, pulls the plate of fruit to us, and continues feeding me.
“You’ll need your appetite because my son is going to be a big boy.”
My stomach flutters, and happiness fills me at the thought of being a mother. “A son? What if it’s a girl?”
“Then she’ll have the fiery attitude of her mother, so you’ll still need your strength.”
“Am I truly pregnant?”
Even though I spoke with Johnathon about this, and he assured me the blood test was positive, I’m still having a hard time believing it.
Tommaso brings the last piece of melon to my lips, then leans in to kiss me. Before he pulls away, his tongue gently traces the outline of my lips. “Yes, wife. You truly are pregnant. Johnathon will arrange the ultrasound and prenatal checkup.”
I haven’t left the estate since I came here from the hospital, and the thought of doing so brings a sudden spike of panic.
“You’ll be safe. Guarded the whole time,” he says, sensing my reaction. “I won’t leave your side.”
I relax into him. “I’m sorry.”
“Don’t apologize.” He strokes my hair. “I’m throwing a lot at you to come to terms with.”
“Have you spoken with your father?” I know that Stefano left here and hasn’t returned.
“No.” I can hear the tension in his voice, and I caress his cheek.
He leans into my touch, looking like it soothes him. Then lifts me out of the blanket and from his lap to set me on the table. I squeak in surprise, and he grips my ankles, positioning my feet on the arms of his chair.
I’m vulnerable and exposed since I’m only wearing a robe. But he isn’t looking at me with heat, but rather with a serious expression.
“I’m going to tell you some things. However, I need you to trust that I will do absolutely anything and everything to keep you safe. Can you do that?”
“Yes.” My voice sounds timid and unsure, so I repeat more confidently, “Yes.”
“Good girl.” He gives me a gentle kiss, then pulls back, locking me in his gaze. “Vincenzo Pisani is in the city.”
My mouth dries. I don’t remember who he is; I only have the memory fragment of the horrible things my father said about him and his plan. “He knows I’m here?”
“Yes. As I suspected, Arturo, or maybe even my father”—his jaw is hard, and I can see how he’s hoping to hell it’s not the latter—“reported your presence to him. He called me, demanding to know what the hell is going on.”
“Is he… Is he coming here?”
“No, he won’t be allowed into our home.”
“Will you be safe, then? Wherever you meet him? He could attack, or it could be an ambush.”
He thumbs my cheek. “I’ll be fine. We’re meeting at Gilly’s, and all the Chamber leaders will be there with reinforcements,along with my own guards. If he tries anything, he won’t walk out alive.”
“But that would start a war with your syndicate.”
He nods. “And Vincenzo, while I don’t know what his intentions are with you, he bleeds ‘Ndrangheta. It’s everything to him. He won’t do anything stupid or rash.”
