“Protect me? Who the hell do you think you are? What, your wealthy family is friends with some cop and you think they can keep any bad guy away because of it?” I snorted. “The cops didn’t save me from my father, Leo. It was the bad guy who did. If, and only if, there was another bad guy out there I was scared of, it’d take someone even worse to save me from them.”
Much to my surprise, he nodded, unfazed. “I agree. That’s whyIcan protect you.”
“What do you mean?” I asked warily, my eyes tightening at him.
“When you asked me about my last name, I didn’t answer you because…maybe you’ll get the wrong idea. You’re not the only one that is defined by her family, Lina.” He wet his lips and sighed. “My dad is…” He trailed off suddenly, his gaze wide, staring at something over my shoulder. “Dad?”
I glanced at the spot distracting him. There was nothing but the other customers at their tables and a bearded man in a coat and suit, sunglasses covering half of his face, looking for a free table I presumed. My gaze returned to Leo. “Yes? Who’s your dad?”
“That will be me.”
My heart jumped in my throat at the voice startling me from behind. A voice that sounded a lot like Leo’s but deeper, older, and just like Leo’s voice once reminded me ofhis, this one did the same cruel trick.
I whirled, and the man with the sunglasses was standing a few inches away. He took a couple more steps closer, and suddenly there was nothing I could hear but the echo of his footsteps, everything moving in slow motion. He was one of those people that owned the space they were in by just existing. My heart thrashed when, standing this close to him, I noticed he was about the same build ashe, and he did have a beard likehedid.
Could he possibly be…?
A small smile tugged at the corners of his mouth as he took off his shades and the scarf on top of his coat. “Good morning.”
His Italian—steamy hot—accent snapped me out of my delusions.Hedidn’t have an accent whenhespoke in English, and this man’s voice wasn’t as dark and crippling ashiswhisper. Just because he was over six feet and had a beard didn’t mean it washim.
I shook my head, swearing at my own brain that was tricking me to believehewas still there, looking forhimin every man I saw. First Leo and now his dad.
This is Leo’s dad?He looked too young to have an almost twenty-year-old. He, despite the crazy resemblance, was more like Leo’s older brother, who somehow was even hotter.
His gaze shifted toward Leo. “Is she all right?”
I realized he’d greeted me, and I didn’t say anything. How rude! So much for leaving a good first impression. “I’m sorry. Good morning to you, Mister…Leo’s dad.”Mister Leo’s dad? People like me should never speak. Ever.
He cocked a brow at my silliness, but this was his son’s fault. Had he told me, I wouldn’t have sounded so clueless.
He looked at Leo again, reproach darkening the breathtaking blue of his eyes, and set his scarf and shades on the table. “I see what’s going on here. Are you going to properly introduce us or should I?”
Leo took a breath before he gestured between us. “Dad, Lina. Lina, this is my dad…Sebastiano Bellomo.”
Shut the front door! “Be-bellomo?” My eyes widened until they hurt. “Like…our Bellomo Academy Bellomo?”
“Yes, your Bellomo. The one and only,” Mr. Bellomo said tightly. Then he took my hand ever so gently and lifted it to his mouth, taking me by surprise. His lips sent a jolt of tingling heat all over me as they brushed the back of my hand with a lingering kiss.
I shuddered, and he smirked in response. It wasn’t like Leo’s mischievous smirks but rather…mesmerizing. “Piacere,” he said.
Lightheaded, my jaw fell. “Huh?”
His smirk turned into a full smile that made my heart flutter. “It means pleasure to meet you.”
I giggled. I freaking giggled. I never giggled. Clearing my throat, I realized my trembling hand was still in Mr. Bellomo’s. I should withdraw it and take my eyes off him. I should do anything other than pretending to forget my hand in the warmth of his, staring at him like I’d never seen a guy before, and giggling like an idiot.
“Yeah…sure…yeah…me too…Mr. Bellomo.” My voice rose with his name, a reminder he was the owner of my school for God’s sake, the man that made our lives and many other kids’ lives better, much better…and Leo’s father. God, Leo. I forgot he was even there.
My head jerked toward him, pulling my hand away, but Mr. Bellomo put his other hand on top of mine with the same tenderness, ruining my chance to withdraw now that my hand was caged between both of his. I noticed his visible tattoos, an angel covering the back of his hand and little birds one on every other finger. More shapes extended on his wrist, but most were hidden under his sleeve for me to make out what they were. Mr. Bellomo was cool and badass. Must have been a bad boy when he was young.
“I see my son has left that tiny little detail out when he introduced himself. He has the habit of doing that quite often.”
“Dad, what are you—”
“Please sit,” Mr. Bellomo interrupted Leo, ignoring his son as if he was air, looking at me. “I hope you don’t mind if I sit with you for a few minutes. This is probably my only chance to get to know my son’s girlfriend.”
“I’mnothis girlfriend…I…uh…” I jabbed a thumb back at the door, the bag crumbling and crunching in my grip, “was just leaving.”
