Italian Mavericks: Forbidden Nights With The Italian: The Forbidden Ferrara / Surrendering to the Italian's Command / The Unwanted Conti Bride. Sarah Morgan
for days. The only thing the Baracchi family knew how to nurture was a grudge.
And so she’d waited for Santo Ferrara to blow her cover.
Not only had he not done that, but he’d left her alone, as if understanding her need for space.
To her eight-year-old eyes, he’d turned from a boy she’d envied into something close to a god. The boathouse became her regular hiding place and from there she could observe the Ferraras and see the differences between their family and her own. Suspicion turned to wistful envy. She’d envied the family picnics, their games on the beach. It was from them she’d learned that a quarrel could be affectionate, that a father could embrace a child, that a sister and brother could be close, that a family could be a unit.
Some of the girls at school had joked about discovering that they were secretly a princess. Fia’s childhood dream was to wake up one day and discover that she was secretly a Ferrara; that there had been some mix-up at the hospital and somehow she’d ended up in the wrong family. That one day they’d claim her.
Be careful what you wish for.
Her head throbbing from lack of sleep, her stomach churning from an encounter she’d found hideously stressful, Fia dragged her mind back to the present and tried to work out what to do next. She had until tonight to find a way to tell her grandfather that the man he hated above all other was Luca’s father.
Once she’d negotiated that hurdle she’d move on to the next one. How to respond to Santo’s ‘proposal’ of marriage.
The suggestion was utterly ridiculous.
What sane woman would agree to marry a man who felt the way Santo felt about her?
On the other hand she could hardly criticise him for fighting for his child when her whole life had been spent wishing that her parents had done that for her. How could she argue with his claim that her son deserved to be a Ferrara when she’d modelled her little family on them?
If she agreed to his terms then Luca would grow up a Ferrara. He’d have the life she’d craved as a child. He would be cocooned in a warm and loving family, wrapped up in love.
And for that privilege she would have to pay a very high price.
She would have to join the family too, only unlike her son she would never truly be part of it. She would be tolerated, rather than welcomed. She’d be on the outside.
And she’d spend every day of her life with a man who didn’t love her. Who was furious with the decision she’d made.
How was that good for Luca?
It wasn’t.
Somehow she had to make Santo understand that no one would benefit from such an arrangement.
Mind made up, she arrived back at the Beach Shack to find the kitchen a hive of activity. Life was the only thing that could fall apart and yet still carry on, she thought numbly. She should have been relaxed, here in her tiny slice of paradise with the sparkling Mediterranean Sea lapping at the shore just steps away from her, but she’d never felt more stressed in her life.
‘Hey, Boss, I wondered where you were. I met the boat this morning. Beat everyone to it. The gamberi look good—’ Ben was hauling a box of supplies into the kitchen. ‘I’ve put them on the menu. Gamberi e limone con pasta?’ He caught her expression and frowned. ‘But if you’d rather do something else then just tell me.’
‘It’s fine.’ Functioning on automatic, she checked the quality of the fruit and vegetables that had been delivered by her local suppliers. It was as if nothing had changed, and yet everything had changed. ‘Did the avocados arrive?’
‘Yes. They look perfect. It was a good idea to switch.’ He paused with a box clutched to his chest. ‘So, are you OK?’
He wasn’t really asking that, of course. He was asking what had happened with Santo and she wasn’t ready to discuss that with anyone. ‘Where is my grandfather?’
‘Still in the house, I think. Oh, and Luca has a new word—’ he was grinning at her ‘—gamberi. Gina and I took him down to the quay this morning while they were unloading the boat. He was fascinated by the octopus. Wanted to take it home. Which we did. But we didn’t tell him we’d be cooking it and serving it with wine later.’
She managed a smile. Luca had grown up surrounded by these people. He was happy and confident. He’d witnessed none of the emotional fireworks that had scorched her childhood. Her heart ached to think that the simplicity of his life had gone for ever.
And just as she had that thought, Ben frowned over her shoulder.
‘He’s early for lunch, isn’t he? And overdressed.’
Fia looked round and saw a bulky man in a suit hovering at the edge of her restaurant.
Her temper flared. Santo had promised her until tonight but already he was making his presence felt. ‘Carry on, Ben,’ she said quickly. ‘I’ll deal with this.’ She had her phone in her hand and was dialling as she walked. ‘Put me through to Ferrara—I don’t care if he’s in a meeting—tell him it’s Fia Baracchi. Do it now …’ Adrenaline coursed around her veins and she was ready to stalk right over there and smash her way into his precious meeting if she had to but moments later she heard his smooth masculine voice on the phone.
‘This had better be important.’
‘I have a man who looks like something straight from some mob movie prowling around my restaurant.’
‘Good. That means he is doing his job.’
‘And what exactly is his job?’
‘He’s in charge of security for the Ferrara Group. He’s conducting a risk assessment.’
‘A risk assessment?’
‘Use your brain, Fia.’
From his curt tone she assumed he had people in the office with him and had no wish to broadcast his personal business. Soon the whole world would know, she thought numbly. They’d all know that Santo Ferrara had a son. And when that happened—
She wondered how he could concentrate in a meeting. She was so distracted she could barely string a coherent sentence together.
‘I want him out of here. He’ll frighten my customers.’
‘The welfare of your customers is not my concern.’
Fia eyed the physical bulk and intimidating presence of the man currently exploring the perimeter of the restaurant and played the one card that was likely to influence him. ‘He is going to frighten Luca.’
‘Luigi is a family man and brilliant with children. And he’s part of our deal. Now go and fulfil your part. Tell your grandfather or I’ll do it myself. And don’t ring me again unless it’s urgent.’ He hung up and Fia stalked over to the man, temper boiling, feeling as helpless as a fish trapped in a net.
‘In two hours my restaurant will be full of customers. I don’t want them thinking there is a problem.’
‘As long as I’m here, there won’t be a problem.’
‘I don’t want you here. You stand out. My guests will worry that something is going on. Luca is—’ The fight went out of her and she swallowed. ‘He’s led a very low-profile life. I don’t want him frightened.’ She’d expected him to argue with her, to show the same rigid inflexibility as his arrogant boss, but to her surprise his eyes were sympathetic.
‘I’m only here for his protection. If we can find a way to keep that low-key, that’s fine by me.’
He knew the history. She could see it in his eyes and she lifted her chin, prepared to fight the whole world if she had to.
‘I can protect my own son.’
‘I