The Sicilian Surrender

“You’ve got that right!”

“In that case…” Stefano wrenched the door open, stepped into the road and slammed the door shut. “Arrivederci, Miss O’Connell. Luigi?” He slapped the side of the car. “Andante.”

Fallon O’Connell said something to him. He couldn’t hear it but this close to the smoked glass window, he could see her mouth open in angry indignation.

Whatever it was, he suspected it wasn’t polite.

She reached for the door and he slapped the car again. Luigi, ever obedient, discreetly activated the door locks and floored the gas pedal.

The car shot away from the curb.

Stefano strode into the terminal, got halfway through it and stopped. What the hell was he doing? He cursed under his breath, an eloquent, earthy string of Sicilian that would have made his grandfather proud as he took his cell phone from his pocket and called his pilot.

“Change of plans,” he said briskly. “We’re not going anywhere today. In fact, you might as well take the next few days off. I’ll be staying in Sicily for a while.”

Of course he’d stay, he thought grimly as he hurried back to the taxi stand. What had he been thinking, to risk leaving the castello while Carla and her people were there?

She had instructions. So did his house staff. None of the Bridal Dreams people were to be permitted past the door. Carla had been upset; where would she put her little crew? she’d said. She’d already told them they’d be staying in the castle.

Untell them, he’d said coldly.

For all he gave a damn, she could put them in sleeping bags on the rocky beach, but there was an inn a few miles away and that was where she’d arranged they’d spend the week.

He’d checked to make sure she’d really made the reservations, and he’d pushed up the installation of a full security system for the castello by a couple of months. He’d even gone a step further and arranged for around-the-clock security people to patrol the grounds.

“Taxi, signore?”

Stefano nodded, handed over a few bills and climbed into the cab.

“Il Castello Lucchesi,” he said.

Still, how could he be sure his orders were followed unless he was there?

He’d been stupid to leave his home while strangers were on the property. Going back was the only way to safeguard his privacy.

An image flashed before him of the woman he’d just met, her eyes wide and mysterious, her mouth warm and sensual. For an instant, he thought he could smell her scent, an innocent breath of vanilla that only accentuated the lushness of her beauty.

Stefano’s mouth thinned.

He wasn’t doing this because of Fallon O’Connell. He was doing it because it was logical.

There was no other reason.

None at all.

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