Page 2 of Hidden Heir, Italian Wife

Evelina Visconti with her parents, Romeo and Ginevra, and her three older brothers, Nico, Jackson, and Christopher.

Jax.

He hadn’t lied to her. They’d both skipped full names so she couldn’t fault his keeping quiet that he was Jackson Visconti of the Visconti Group. They were WBE’s biggest competitor for more reasons than a family feud. Their hotel chain was renowned worldwide, with a head office a few blocks from where she worked for WBE.

She was aware that the Visconti properties were operated by the brothers, each with his own territory, but she’d never had reason to look them up, otherwise she might have found Sofia’s father sooner.

Here he was, staring up at her with an aloof expression and the undeniable sexual charisma she hadn’t been able to forget.

Or find in any other man.

“Bree,” Melissa said in a mother’s mixture of crossness and worry.

“I’m okay. Just surprised.” She passed the phone back to Melissa, who didn’t miss the way it wobbled in her grip. “Come sit with me before we leave,” Bree coaxed Sofia.

Her hands were cold as she gathered her daughter into her lap and hugged her, dropping a kiss on the part in her sweet-smelling hair.

“I don’t understand.” Melissa looked at the screen then back to her. “This marriage won’t affect your job, will it?”

Bree bit back a semi hysterical laugh. It could affect a lot more than that!

“The middle brother.” Over her daughter’s head, she widened her eyes with significance and nodded at Sofia.

“What!” Melissa got it right away and was equally shocked. “Will you tell him?”

Bree opened her mouth, thinking about how many times she had wished she could. From the moment she’d learned she was pregnant, she had wished she had not left his number behind in a fit of pique.

But would he want to know about their daughter? Bree’s father hadn’t wanted her. Not really. She would never want Sofia to experience that same cruel indifference. At least when she hadn’t known Jax’s full name, she hadn’t had to take that risk with her.

Now she had an avenue to reach him, but the reality of bringing him into their lives when she had built her world around being a single mother loomed as such a huge shift, she could only say truthfully, “I don’t know.”

CHAPTER ONE

Four years ago, Lake Como

After twelve daysof traveling alone, Bree decided it was actually a blessing her mother hadn’t been able to come to Italy with her.

She loved Melissa to the moon and back, but for the first time in her life, she was truly self-reliant. It was an important coming of age she hadn’t realized she needed until she was living it. This wasn’t flying solo to Chicago as a pre-adolescent to visit her father, or the pseudo independence of heading off to college to live in a dorm. It wasn’t playing house with her college boyfriend, Kabir.

This was a far too brief, single-woman-on-a-mission-to-find-herself journey that was reassuring her that she would, in fact, be okay without a man in her life.

Mom had promised she would be. They had survived after Daddy left, hadn’t they?

Bree had been devastated by Kabir’s rejection. She had wanted to crawl into bed and never come out, but her mother had urged her to, “Take a trip anyway. It will be good for you. Haven’t you always wanted to go to Italy?”

The lease was running out on the apartment she had shared with Kabir, so Bree had put her few belongings into storage, closed out the streaming accounts they had shared, and hopped on the plane. After landing in the chaos of Rome, she’d traveled south to Pompeii, then came north to sample wines in Tuscany. She’d spent three days soaking up the art and architecture of Florence, browsed boutiques in Milan, and spent this morning on a six-mile hike along the shore of Lake Como, weaving in and out of quaint villages and sweet-smelling bowers of nature.

Thanks to her mother’s shrewd financial planning, Bree’s student loans were manageable, but she was still desperate to get into the workforce to pay them off, otherwise she might have stayed in Europe all summer. She had planned to follow Kabir wherever he found work, but now she would be on her mother’s pullout as she built her adult life from scratch.

She turned her mind from that daunting prospect and made a beeline toward an outdoor café. Despite the dwindling balance in her savings account, she was treating herself to a late lunch overlooking the vivid blue water, where the fragrance of wisteria wafted from the trellis above. A sprinkling of guests occupied nearby tables, but the midday rush was over. She was given a seat near the rail and asked for a glass of white wine, then removed her sunglasses so she could browse the menu.

When she heard the maître d’ say “Giacomo,” with delighted surprise, she glanced up.

Oh.

She’d seen a lot of good-looking men here in Italy, but this one took her breath with his black, curly hair styled a fraction too long. His complexion was swarthy and he wore a shadow of stubble sculpted to accentuate his lean cheeks and strong jaw. On any other man his striped linen trousers and button-down shirt with rolled sleeves paired with a thin scarf would have appeared to be trying too hard. On him, it was casually elegant. Chic and confident. Worldly.

It didn’t hurt that he was built like a top-class athlete. His shirt sat against the musculature of his chest and shoulders. His trousers strained across his hips before hugging his long, lean thighs in a way that was both flattering and subtly sexual. His hair was wind tousled, his eyes covered by mirrored sunglasses that…

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