Page 179 of Modern Romance June 2025 5-8

Illicit Italian Nights

Melanie Milburne

In loving memory of my beautiful miniature poodle Lily, who crossed the rainbow bridge during the beginning stages of this novel. I wrote so many novels with her asleep on the sofa behind me. I was the first person to hold her when she was born and the last as she passed away. Such a beautiful girl from start to finish. xxxx

CHAPTER ONE

Addie was brushingher teeth at nine thirty at night when her phone vibrated on the bedside table. She paused for a moment… She hated late-night phone calls from her mother, complaining about how she had put on half a kilo and had to get it off before her next photo shoot. Or calling to tell Addie she was kicking her latest lover out of her luxury home in the Bahamas.

She came out of her tiny bathroom and glanced over at the phone, deciding whether or not to ignore it. Suddenly she recognised the number. Her heart banged against her breastbone like an out-of-control pendulum.

She snatched up the phone and answered, ‘Hewwo?’ Unfortunately, she hadn’t had time to empty her mouth of its minty contents.

‘Addison? It’s Vic Jacobetti.’

Addie couldn’t speak—and not because her mouth was still full of toothpaste. Mumbling unintelligibly, she left her phone on the bed, dashing to the bathroom to spit and rinse.

She came back and snatched up the phone and answered breathlessly, ‘Sorry about that. You caught me at an awkward moment.’

‘My apologies. Is there someone with you?’ That deep gravel-rough voice did something strange to the floor of her belly, making it flutter like the wings of a moth.

‘Erm…no…’ The thing was, there was never anyone with her at this time of night. She hadn’t had a date in years. She couldn’t even remember the last time she was kissed. That Vic Jacobetti thought she might be with someone was laughable to say the least. But perhaps her brother, Marcus, and Vic’s half-sister, Isabella—who happened to be her sister-in-law and the mother of her adorable little niece, Katerina—hadn’t mentioned her lack of a love life.

‘Marcus called a moment ago.’ Vic’s voice had an element of gravitas that sent a wave of uneasiness through her. ‘He and Isabella are stuck in New Zealand due to a severe storm and flooding that occurred as a result. They can’t get back in time to relieve the nanny they engaged. They want us to take care of Katerina until they can get home.’

Addie licked her suddenly dry lips. ‘Us?’

‘We’re her godparents and they thought she’d be happiest with us.’

‘But why can’t the nanny stay on?’ Addie loved kids. All kids. But she had never been left in charge of one. Her specialty was animals. Her work as a vet nurse was a perfect fit for her. Her mother thought it was weird that Addie had zero interest in fashion and had no desire to be in the spotlight like her as a world-famous swimsuit model. She didn’t even own a swimsuit. She loved nothing better than tending to sick and wounded or aging animals. Or the cute little puppies and kittens that come in for their vaccinations with their proud owners. Addie loved the trust the animals had in her, the love they showed even when they were sick or stressed. They didn’t judge her for the clothes she wore—she wore scrubs, anyway—or her makeup-free face and pulled-back hair. They saw her for what she was.

‘The nanny has another job she can’t postpone. Marcus and Isabella were only going to be away four days for their friends’ wedding. Katerina is at my villa in Lake Como, where Marcus and Isabella were planning to join her and have a family holiday there. But the nanny is insisting on leaving, so we’ll fly there immediately to take over.’

She gulped. ‘Immediately?’

‘I’ll send a car for you. It’ll be there in half an hour.’

‘But I have to call my boss and let them know, but it’s late at night and—’

‘You can do that on the way. Pack a bag and be ready. And don’t forget your passport.’ His tone was commanding as if he was used to issuing orders and having them obeyed without question. The only question Addie had was: Why hadn’t her brother called her? She knew he was seven years older than her, but he was still her brother—not that they were particularly close.

Marcus was her mother’s favourite child and being so much older than Addie he had been away at boarding school or university or working abroad while she was growing up. She couldn’t recall a single instance of her mother berating her in front of Marcus, or anyone for that matter. It was a private thing that somehow made her feel even more isolated. Who would ever believe the charming and gorgeous Solange could be cruel and insensitive to the needs of a small, insecure and shy child?

As if Vic read her mind he added, ‘Marcus told me to tell you he’d call you when he gets a chance. The power was out, and his phone was running out of battery.’

‘Okay. Just as long as they’re both safe and out of harm’s way.’

‘They’re fine but it might be a day or two before we hear from them.’

Addie put the phone down once the call ended and chewed at her lip. That was quite easily the longest conversation she had shared with Vic Jacobetti. She met him first at Marcus and Isabella’s engagement party and formed an immediate crush on him. She couldn’t explain it other than there would be very few women on the earth who wouldn’t be knocked off their feet by his gorgeous Italian features. Tall, dark and handsome didn’t adequately describe the utter perfection of him. And droves of women obviously agreed with her because he was rarely without a glamorous lover hanging off one of his gym-toned arms. Of course, her crush on him made her tongue-tied and awkward and ridiculously gauche around him, which didn’t improve the second time she saw him at Marcus and Isabella’s wedding. She drank way too much champagne to cover her introversion. She was not particularly keen on social gatherings, especially society weddings. The wedding of Isabella, as the half-sister of hotel billionaire Ludovico Jacobetti, and Addie’s brother, Marcus, the firstborn and golden child of supermodel Solange Featherstone was a big deal. A very big deal. Hundreds and hundreds of guests, including royalty and celebrities and paparazzi buzzing around like a swarm of locusts of biblical proportions. She was just thankful she hadn’t been asked to be in the bridal party so she could fade into the background. She was not so much a wallflower but wallpaper. Beige wallpaper.

The third time she met Vic was at Katerina’s christening. Given that she and Marcus weren’t super close, she was still truly honoured to be asked to be his little daughter’s godmother, but Addie was gobsmacked to find she was sharing the responsibility with Vic. They stood there, side by side in the church and made their vows. Heat rushed past the roots of her hair to her corpus callosum because she was thinking of how wonderful it would be to be making other vows together one day. Ridiculous. What would someone like Vic Jacobetti ever see in her?

And now she was going to be spending who knew how many days and nights with him at his private villa in Lake Como. The fact that their nineteen-month-old niece would be there with them acting as chaperone was beside the point.

Addie went to her wardrobe and stared at the contents for a few moments. She shook her head. Her mother had a walk-in wardrobe that was as big as Addie’s entire flat. It was practically a drive-in wardrobe. Unlike her mother’s colourful wardrobe, hers only contained neutral-coloured garments. Brown, beige, white and grey and black. Background tones that suited her…well, she was not sure if they suited her colouring or not but she was most comfortable in them. Her mother regularly dropped off bags of her clothes that ‘she had only worn once and wouldn’t be seen dead in twice’, but Addie had a different build from her mother, a fact she had been informing her of since she was six years old.

Addie stuffed a few things in a small suitcase and packed her duckling pyjamas and piglet slippers. She was an animal lover. Her night attire was a little more colourful than her day clothes, but that was because no one ever saw her in them. And she meant no one. She tried not to dwell on the fact that she was still a virgin at the ripe old age of twenty-eight. It was embarrassing for one thing, but she found dating difficult. She was not good at small talk; she didn’t know how to flirt and flutter her eyelashes or whatever anyone had to do to attract a man’s attention. Call her old-fashioned, but she positively refused to try one of those dating apps. Her mother, on the other hand, was a professional at dating. If there was an award for it, Solange would get a gold medal. Addie had lost count of the number of partners she’d had. Her dad was the first of five husbands, but Solange got sick of paying legal fees, so now only stayed with a guy a few weeks or one or two months. Oh, and Solange wasn’t her real name, either—it was Susan but she thought that was too common and not sophisticated enough.

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