Italian Bachelors: Irresistible Sicilians. Michelle Smart

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       CHAPTER SEVEN

      GRACE COULD HAVE sworn Luca blanched, but, it was such a fleeting expression, one blink and it had gone.

      ‘I am not a criminal.’

      ‘Really?’ She made no attempt to hide her disbelief. ‘How would you describe yourself?’

      ‘I’m a businessman.’

      ‘Hmm. So it’s normal behaviour for businessmen to live in the Sicilian equivalent of Fort Knox and travel everywhere with armed guards? Is it also normal for businessmen to beat people?’

      His eyes had blackened, his nostrils flared. ‘What, exactly, do you mean by that?’

      ‘Do you remember a couple of days or so before I left you, I went with you to the casino? Do you remember when I walked into the office and that man was in there with you all? Do you remember him? Because I do. Even though you marched me out straight away, I got a good look at his face. I saw that man a few days later in Palermo. Both of his arms had been broken and his face looked as if he’d been in a boxing match against an opponent twice his size.’

      While she had no time for Luca’s nightclubs, she’d liked spending time in his casinos, especially the one in Palermo. She’d come to enjoy their nights out there, dining in the à la carte restaurant and playing cards. The night she had been referring to had been their last night out together. She had been playing poker, a game she was good at, but her frequent yawns had got the better of her. She’d wanted to go home and go to bed, preferably with her husband.

      Luca had been nowhere to be found on the gaming floor, so she had wandered off to the security offices on the top floor. Being one of the bosses’ wives meant she had access to anywhere she desired.

      She had found him in the nondescript office used by the duty manager.

      The man in question had been sitting in a chair in the middle of the room surrounded by Luca, Francesco and two men she didn’t know. Those two men, with their broken noses and cauliflower ears, had given her the heebie-jeebies.

      She could still taste the testosterone of that office, could still feel the menacing atmosphere that had greeted her when she walked through the door.

      All the men had fixed their eyes on her, their surprise that she’d barged in on them palpable.

      ‘Everything all right?’ she had asked with a naivety she looked back on with disgust.

      ‘We’re in the middle of a meeting,’ Luca had said curtly, striding over to her.

      ‘Are you going to be much longer? Only I’m tired and want to go home.’

      ‘We will not be long.’ He’d taken her arm and ushered her to the door. ‘Wait for me in the bar. I’ll be with you shortly.’

      He’d shut her out before she could make a whisper of protest.

      She’d stared at the offending door for too long, an uneasiness creeping through her bones to go with the shock of her own husband frogmarching her from the room. There had been something about the man in the chair’s expression that kept flashing through her mind.

      When she had challenged Luca about it on the drive home, he’d dismissed the matter, refusing to discuss it.

      She’d dropped the subject but the man in the chair had haunted her. The more she’d thought about it, the more convinced she’d become that it had been a pleading terror she had seen in his eyes.

      A couple of days later she had walked out of a pharmacy in Lebbrossi and come face to face with him. He’d almost fallen into the road in his haste to get away from her.

      She’d watched him hurry away, utterly bewildered. Stuffed in the bottom of her handbag, away from the prying eyes of her minders, had been a pregnancy test.

      ‘That man was cheating the casino,’ Luca said, finally breaking the silence that had sprung between them.

      ‘And?’ She was being deliberately facetious. She wanted him to spell it out to her. She wanted to watch him justify breaking the bones of a fellow human being.

      ‘And here in Sicily we have our own methods for dealing with people who try to cheat us,’ he said coolly. ‘Lessons need to be learned.’

      ‘That was one hell of a lesson. That poor man recognised me as your wife. I swear he looked as if he’d come face to face with the Medusa.’

      ‘That poor man stole over a hundred thousand euros from us.’

      ‘Ooh, yes, I can totally see how that would justify smashing his face in.’ Sick to the pit of her stomach, Grace shook her head. Her tortellini had gone cold but she didn’t care. Her appetite had deserted her.

      ‘Believe me, he got off lightly.’

      ‘Lightly? Lightly? What planet are you on? How СКАЧАТЬ