Page 4 of A Son Hidden from the Sicilian

The man she was trying to avoid.

He stood on the sidewalk, looking up at the beautiful building while Palermo sparkled around them.

She hadn’t forgotten thepunchof him—the figure he cut, all broad-shouldered confidence. Something innate that simply vibrated from him, like a frequency she’d been attuned to since long before she’d met him.

She thought about turning around and running back inside—no matter how stupid that would have been—but his gaze met hers and she found herself frozen—half in the door and half out.

He smiled.Oh, God. She was going to end up doing something stupid again.Think of Gio. Protect your son.

“Hello again,” he offered. “Coming out or scurrying back inside at the sight of me?”

She blinked. She should have a scathing retort. She had known this might happen. She hadpreparedfor this. She had even practiced in the mirror all the casual, unbothered, dismissive things she might say to him.

But she had not prepared for everything she’d felt back then to come rushing back. Slithering through all the cracks in her armor so she felt like an exposed wire—sensitive and dangerous. On the verge of something terriblyexplosive.

“Are you afraid of me,dusci?” he all but purred. “I must admit, I cannot imagine why,” he said with a silky arrogance that helped break through the haze affecting her.

“You can’t?” she returned, finally finding her voice in her irritation with him. She forced herself to step outside, though she kept by the door. She would have an escape if she needed one. “When rumors swirl about you the way they do? None of them good?”

There was thetiniestflicker of something in his expression. Not aggression, but that intensity she’d once been enthralled by.Youstill are.

“Tell me, Brianna. Do you believe every rumor you hear, or only ones about former lovers?” He asked it casually,conversationally, but it had far more of an effect on her than it should.

The wordloversin his deep, dark voice seemed to travel down her spine, her body trying to remind her of what her brain was desperately trying to forget. Just how good atloversthey were.

Gio. Think of Gio. But that wasn’t exactly helpful, because as much as she wanted to protect her son—more thananything—she couldn’t fully absolve herself enough to not feel guilt over the situation.

This man did not know he had a son at all. He’d never been on the receiving end of Gio’s smiles or held the boy as he’d grown.

Because he’s a violent criminal, Brianna. Because he deals in dangerous things that could hurt your son. This is not your fault.

“I haven’t seen one article or media story to refute any of these claims against you,” Brianna replied, determined to keep her position even as he stepped closer. She would not let him physically intimidate her. “Never sawyouattempt to refute it, in fact.”

He cocked his head, reached out and touched a finger to her cheek. His gaze was focused on that finger, and he slid it down the length of her jaw. The touch arced through her like electricity. She shuddered and knew she shouldn’t. Sheyearnedand knew she couldn’t.

This was no intimidation. It was seduction. She’d been down this road once before. She had to be smarter than she’d been two years ago. Stronger.

“My original statement refuted it,” he said, his voice low, serious. His dark gaze matched it.

And it was basically a lie. “That was your publicist.” She should move. Step away from his wandering finger. Not let him block out the light. Block out her sanity.

“You areveryabreast of this. I didn’t realize the dealings of a Sicilian businessman would make news in America.”

“You’re hardlyjusta Sicilian businessman. Which I did not find out until I got home.”

Home. Gio. Get out of here, Brianna.

She finally got her mind to get through to her body enough to move—sidestep away from his shadow, his finger, his orbit. She began to stride toward the car that would take her to safety.

She had to be safe. For Gio. Safe and smart and...protect Gio at all costs. Which meant protecting herself.

“I thought we could have coffee. Catch up.”

She stopped midstride because was heinsane? But she didn’t look back at him, just forced herself to continue walking. “It was never just coffee with us, Lorenzo.”

He chuckled as he matched her stride easily, the sound deep and warm as it settled inside of her like a drug. Only a drug could make her want something she knew was far too dangerous. “That would be enjoyable as well.”

Thosewords hit a little hard. Not just because they were tempting, and she hated herself that they were, but because she’d been busy preparing for motherhood and then being a single mother for the past two years. She had notenjoyedanything remotely sexual in so long she had begun to wonder if she even had those kinds of desires anymore.

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