4. Chapter Four #2
I dressed hurriedly and strode into the lounge, feeling more confident, and the events of earlier faded from my mind.
Carlotta turned and stole my breath. The resemblance to her mother was unmistakable.
“You look beautiful, sweetheart. Your mamma would be so proud of the young woman you’re growing into.”
“Thanks, Papa.”
“We should get going, though, before it gets too busy.”
I hailed a taxi, and we arrived at the restaurant fifteen minutes later. The place was busy, but we easily got a table by the window.
“When will we go back to Italy? I miss Nonno and my friends.”
Wow, I wasn’t expecting that.
“You know we live here now. I don’t mind you going back to visit now and again, but our home is here. In London.”
“Are we staying here forever?”
“That was the plan. You know your grandfather and me didn’t always see eye to eye, especially since your mamma is gone.”
This wasn’t a conversation I wanted to have with her. I’d hoped she’d realised my intention to stay when I enrolled her into the school that we wouldn’t be returning.
“But I miss my friends.” She folded her arms, her jaw set.
“You have friends here. We have a home here.”
“It’s not like in Italy. It was warmer there, and it’s only going to get colder with winter coming.”
“Give it a year. We’ve been here a few months and are both still settling in.”
Well, this wasn’t how I envisaged today going. What had brought this on?
“Why now? Why are you asking now about going back to Italy? I thought you were happy here. Has something happened at school?”
She stared out the window, her arms still folded in front of her.
“Some girls at school have been talking about you.”
“Like who? You mentioned Paige today, but who else?”
She turned to face me, fire in her eyes.
“All of them. They keep telling me how their mums think you’re good looking. You don’t belong to them. You belong to me and Mamma.”
I reached across the table and took her hand.
“Hey, I told you earlier I have no interest in dating or going out for a meal with anyone but you. I love you and your mamma still. You are the most important thing in my life, Carlotta. Not anyone’s mum. Do you understand?”
A twelve-year-old’s mind worked differently. She’d lost her mother, and perhaps she thought she was going to lose her father too.
But she nodded, and her lip quivered.
“I thought if we went back to Italy, that wouldn’t happen. No one mentioned you at school there.”
Because they all knew what had happened, but I’d admit I’d received a few offers after Mia had died. Carlotta just didn’t know about them.
Thankfully, we were interrupted by our food, and the conversation stopped.
“Let’s finish our food, and we’ll buy ice cream from the parlour you like. Then we’ll go home and watch a movie. How does that sound?”
Her eyes lit up as she smiled, and she tucked into the food with gusto, changing the subject to how she’d been doing at school.
By the time we returned home, it was still early, the sun barely setting, but as we got out of the taxi, the feeling returned. Not the pain in my chest but the calm and the urge to find whoever was near and fuck them senseless.
I sniffed the air. Why I didn’t know, but it was like I knew they were close.
Then I spotted it. Just across the road, that same damn motorbike. Only this time a rider sat astride it, leaning on the helmet resting between his legs.
Who the fuck was that, and why did I have the urge to go over to him and kiss him?
I opened the door to the foyer and ushered Carlotta in.
“Wait here for a moment. I need to go speak to the man on the motorbike. Can you do that?”
She nodded. “Is he here to hurt you?”
“What? Not at all. I need a quick word with him, that’s all. Everything will be fine.”
I closed the door behind me and adjusted myself. Things were getting tight down there, and I did not know why.
But the pull I had, drawing me closer to him, was intense.
“I don’t know who you are or who sent you. I think it’s Ernesto. You can tell him from me to fuck off. I want nothing to do with the crotchety bastard.”
Was that a flicker of a smile? I hesitated. Should I continue to approach him?
He didn’t look mean. In fact, he looked amused.
I stepped closer. He wore tight-fitting leather trousers and a leather jacket, part way zipped, revealing a white crew neck shirt. His arms rested on the matte black helmet, long elegant fingers tapping a tattoo.
But it was his face that captivated me. I’d never been attracted to men despite having had a few youthful fumbles in the dark.
The man sitting before me was ruggedly handsome, with dark hair falling over his forehead, partially obscuring his eyes. Yellow eyes that almost glowed in the fading sunlight and with cheekbones sharp enough to cut paper.
God, he was gorgeous.
He was the man I didn’t know I needed, and need him, I did. It was inexplicable.
“Who are you?” I was mesmerised, barely able to tear my eyes from the vision before me.
To my dismay, he placed the helmet on his head and kicked the starter, bringing the motorbike to life.
“Wait,” I shouted above the noise as he revved the engine.
But he didn’t. He edged towards me, forcing me out of his way, and roared off into the distance, leaving me panting in his wake.
What the fuck had just happened?