The Beast had smiled at me.

No, he hadn’t just smiled when I’d stood up to him outside my bedroom door; he’d looked downright pleased.

I couldn’t get that look out of my head. I’d tossed and turned most of the night, wondering what I’d seen in his face, what it meant, what he’d been thinking in that moment, and why his gaze had lingered on my lips for so long. And even though I hadn’t wanted to, I’d dreamt about it. About what he would have done if, instead of running like a cornered animal, I’d pressed my lips to his. If I’d ripped open his shirt, if I’d explored every inch of his skin and muscle and play of bone with my fingers and tongue and teeth. If I’d devoured him the way his eyes had seemed to devour me.

I’d dreamt about it for two freaking nights and imagined it during two days of meetings and endless fashion shows. And just thinking about it now made me hot and bothered all over again. Shifting my back against the aged plaster wall where I stood on the edge of the vast room, I waited for Luc to finish his meeting with Bianca, a representative from Bandini, with wavering patience.

I was desperate for this private showing of their upcoming line to end. Desperate to get out of this room. Desperate for any kind of movement to cool myself down. The slacks and blouse I’d chosen from the outfits Luc’s stylist had left for me felt claustrophobic. After his little rant in the car the other night about my dress, I’d gone for conservative instead of comfortable the past two days, and I was sweltering in the cloistering clothing as a result. Unfortunately, I was pretty sure my body temperature had little to do with the outfit and summer heat spilling through the wide open doors that led out to a loggia, and everything to do with the fact I couldn’t stop fantasizing about that stupid dream and the frustrating-as-hell man who’d inspired it.

That man currently stood across the room chatting with the sharply dressed Bianca while three models swept in and out in different ensembles. He’d removed his suit jacket in the car on the ride to our second appointment today, tugged off his tie, and rolled his dress shirt up to his forearms, telling me with a sexy half grin that it was too hot today for so many layers. I knew it was hot, dammit. I didn’t need an announcement about it, I’d been sweating all freakin’ day. And I definitely didn’t need him to be nice to me, but for some insane reason, that was what he’d been ever since our confrontation in the car—nice, pleasant, even agreeable all yesterday and on the drive outside the city to this private estate today.

But what was killing me at the moment was the fact he kept glancing back at me during this stupid fashion show. His watchful gaze made my stomach tight. It made my whole body tight. And it completely threw me, because all I wanted was for him to ignore me as he had when I’d first arrived so I could stop thinking about his ass for ten freakin’ minutes.

I was pissed at the man. Pissed at the way he’d talked to me at that party the other night, pissed at the things he’d said to me in the car after. Pissed that he’d completely disarmed and flustered me with that one stupid smile. But most of all I was pissed that I was already looking at him differently. Not as the number one suspect in my best friend’s murder, but as a man. A sexy as hell man. One I wanted even though I knew I shouldn’t.

I needed to stay focused. I needed to remember why I was here—to find out if he’d had anything at all to do with Laney’s murder. And the best time to do that was now. The rep for Bandini clearly knew Luc well. I had to find a way to talk to her alone so I could try to pump her for information about the man.

All three models appeared in the room, except this time instead of striding in, twirling in their latest outfits, and disappearing back out the doorway they’d come through, they each stopped near Luc and Bianca and joined in the conversation.

Relieved the private fashion show was over, I straightened my spine against the wall, but I didn’t move to join the group. I knew my place as the assistant and stayed where I was in the back of the room, exactly as I’d done the past two days, intent on avoiding a repeat of Luc’s little temper tantrum. Luc glanced back at me again, and every inch of my skin tingled in response, but I fixed a bored look on my face, careful not to meet his gaze. Seconds later, his focus returned to the women around him, and I watched as the skinny blonde to his right flipped her hair, giggled, and rubbed her breast against his arm in clear invitation.

A hard knot formed in my stomach. I’d seen him flirting with a variety of models at that first party. I’d seen him flirting with this one, in fact, just before David Bonello had distracted me from the disgusting scene. I knew it was irrational of me, but I disliked her on sight, and I told myself that had nothing to do with the way I was currently reacting to Luc and everything to do with the fact she had gold digger written all over her.

My stomach twisted as the blonde continued to flirt, and he nodded and smiled, encouraging her. The youngest of the three models, the brunette who looked like she was maybe twelve years old tops and who hadn’t said a word since the three had come out, smiled weakly, flashing a deep dimple in her cheek, then excused herself from the group and disappeared into another room, a hand at her head and a vacant look in her large brown eyes. Luc watched her go, and something in the way his gaze followed her caught my attention, causing me to shift uncomfortably against the wall.

As soon as the girl was gone, he leaned toward Bianca and spoke quietly in the older woman’s ear, ignoring the blonde still plastered to his side and desperate for his attention. Moments later, Bianca nodded, and Luc disengaged the blonde from his arm. His footsteps echoed across the travertine tiles as he heading for the same door the brunette had just exited through.

A whisper of unease shot through my belly. The blonde perched her hands on her thin hips and glared after him, clearly upset. The other model barely seemed to notice—she was too busy studying her nails—but Bianca placed a hand on the blonde’s shoulder, drawing the blonde’s attention her way, and firmly shook her head. Scowling, the blonde dropped her arms in a huff.

I wasn’t sure what I’d just seen. My gaze shot back to the now-empty doorway. Had that been worry in Luc’s stormy eyes? Concern? Or had it been interest?

Bile pushed up my throat. I hoped to hell that hadn’t been interest. The girl was a child. Skinny models were one thing. Children were completely different.

I watched the remaining two models disappear through a different door. Bianca glanced my way. Seconds later, she stood in front of me and smiled. “Did you enjoy the new line?”

She was tall—at least five inches taller than me—as thin as her models and just as beautiful with a sleek black bob, high cheekbones, and eyes the color of amethysts. I guessed she was probably about forty, but it was clear from the way she held herself that she’d been a model in her younger years. Next to her, I felt short and fat and not nearly as attractive as all the women I’d been faced with since arriving in Italy.

I brushed a curl away from my face, hoping to hide my stress over what Luc was doing in the other room alone with that girl.

Was that what he wanted? Young girls? Laney hadn’t been a young girl. In fact, the more I thought about Luc and Laney, the harder it was for me to see them together, and not because of Laney’s age. Laney never would have been interested in someone like Luc. She would have thought he was way too arrogant and intimidating. Laney had been a gentle-hearted girl who never would have stood up to Luc the way I had. The first time he raised his voice to her, she would have cowered and run. No, Elena McCabe would have gone for someone completely different, someone flirty, sexy, overwhelming, and dominant in a completely different way.

Someone like Gio.

“Ms. James?”

Bianca’s voice shook me out of my thoughts, and I blinked. “Yes?”

“The line? You liked it, yes?”

“Oh.” My cheeks heated when I realized I’d just spaced out. About Luc. Again. “Yes, the line was great. I just wish I could pull off some of those looks.” I shrugged and glanced down at my body, round in all the places Bianca’s was slim and straight. “Unfortunately, I’m not your target customer.”

“Are you kidding?” Bianca’s amethyst eyes sparkled as her gaze slid up and down my curves. “You have an amazing figure, and I wish I had what you have, believe me. Fashion should accentuate, not detract from the female form. Don’t let the models fool you. Designers use stick-skinny bodies as walking hangers. Too many curves and our buyers can’t see the designs.” She winked. “Tell you what. Luc mentioned you’re going to the Cipriani party tonight, yes?”

I nodded because that was what Ms. Pascal had put on the schedule. I knew Roberto Cipriani was some huge Italian designer, but he was way out of my price range, and I knew zilch about his lines.

“Let me send a gown over to your hotel for the party to prove it to you.”

“Oh, you don’t need to do that.”

“I insist. You are a very beautiful woman, Ms. James. You should be accentuating the assets the rest of us wish we had instead of covering them up.”

My face heated at her flattery, but just as quickly, worry slid through my belly. “That’s very sweet of you, but Mr. Salvatici doesn’t want me wearing anything that takes the focus off him.”

“Oh, bah.” Bianca waved her hand and scrunched her face in distaste. “If Luc told you not to wear something, it’s because he doesn’t want every man in the room drooling over your body and trying to steal you away from him.”

I felt my face growing redder by the second, and an uncomfortable laugh tumbled from my lips. “Trust me, that’s not what he’s afraid of. In fact, I’m pretty sure that man isn’t afraid of anything.”

“There’s plenty he’s afraid of, but that isn’t the point. The point is that I’ve known Luciano Salvatici a long time, and I’ve never seen him look at another woman the way he kept looking back here at you. I’m fairly certain he missed half the show because of you, Ms. James.”

I was still reeling from her declaration that Luc was afraid of something when her last comment hit me.

Luc had missed half the show? Because of me? I knew he’d glanced at me several times, but was I somehow distracting him? The same way he was distracting me? My stomach flopped again, only this time it wasn’t disgust that sent it swirling in a choppy storm, it was disbelief, excitement, and a healthy dose of fear.

My heart sped up, and even though I tried not to, I couldn’t stop from glancing toward the empty door where Luc and that model had disappeared. “Um, you know Luc well?” I looked back at Bianca. “How well, if you don’t mind my asking?”

“We’ve been friends a long time. I’m a few years older, but our families are close. I guess you could say we grew up in the same circles.” She tipped her head. “We were never involved, if that’s what you’re asking.”

I was glad for that, but I still needed answers, and I no longer cared how I got them. “Does he date his models? Is this...” Shit, now I really sounded like a snoop. “Is it normal for him?”

A wry smile spread across Bianca’s face. “Luc is not usually involved in any of this. Truth be told, I was surprised when he arrived here today. Covet has always sent a different Salvatici representative to the fashion shows. As far as I know, he only just started working at the magazine, but I can tell you that in all the years I’ve known Luc, I’ve never seen him date a model. In fact, I can pretty much guarantee that a model is the last woman Luciano Salvatici would ever get involved with, short-term or otherwise.”

That statement took me by surprise. Not just because Bianca said it with such conviction, but because I saw nothing but brutal honesty in her eyes when she held my gaze.

I looked back to the door Luc had exited through and swallowed hard. I wanted to know what Luc had been doing before taking his recent position at Covet. I wanted to know if he’d even had the time or ability to know Elena McCabe before her death. But right now, I needed to know what he was doing at this very moment even more. “The girl. The brunette. Is she all right? She seemed upset.”

“Sofia?” Bianca’s shoulders dropped on a sigh, and she glanced once toward the door, then back at me. “That poor thing. It’s her father. Luc’s known her family for some time. He went to check on her.”

Bianca didn’t seem at all disturbed about Luc following the young girl into a private room, so I took that as a good sign. “What’s wrong with her father?”

“Cancer, I’m afraid. He doesn’t have much time left. It’s been very hard on the family. Sofia started modeling a few years ago, but her father didn’t approve, so she quit. When he fell sick, the family needed money. I’ve tried to take her under my wing and protect her—she’s such a sweet young thing, only fifteen, you know—but she’s so strikingly beautiful, she’s already had offers from several big houses. She desperately wants to spend more time with her father before he passes, but the family needs the money. If she doesn’t go home, I’m afraid it’s only a matter of time before she’s sucked into this whole maddening world.”

I glanced toward the empty doorway again and found myself imagining Sofia’s wide-set, big, round eyes. She was beautiful; even I couldn’t deny that. More beautiful than the other two models because she had a uniquely striking facial structure. I didn’t doubt that she was in high demand in the fashion world. Or that she had a huge career ahead of her.

I looked up at Bianca once more and was about to say so when I realized she wasn’t looking at me. She was looking past me to the frescoes on the walls above my head. Something dark lurked in her eyes. Something unsettling. Something filled with shadows that made my spine tingle all over again.

Before I could ask Bianca if she was okay, the look disappeared and she smiled down at me. “Now,” she said, her voice once more confident and warm. “What’s your dress size so I know which gown to pull for you?”

“Oh, um…six,” I said, wondering if I’d just imagined that haunted expression or if it had really been there.

Bianca pinned me with a skeptical look. “A six? Are you sure? I don’t believe it. Let me measure you. Your waist is way too small for a six.”

I frowned because I knew my waist might be too small but my butt definitely wasn’t, and while my breasts might not be huge, they easily filled out a size-six dress. “Okay, just promise you won’t be horrified by the numbers on the tape measure.”

Bianca laughed and motioned me to follow. Relieved she sounded normal again, I trailed behind her. She chattered on about the Cipriani party while we walked, but I only found myself half paying attention, because as we passed open doorways, I couldn’t keep from searching for Luc.

My steps slowed as we moved by an archway that opened to a sitting area with couches and chairs, and my heart kicked up when I spotted Luc standing in the center of the room talking with the blonde again. A whisper of jealousy I didn’t like shot through my chest, but I told myself his flirting with her was good news. It meant he really hadn’t been interested in Sofia as I’d thought.

Except…his flirting with the blonde didn’t make me feel a whole lot better. It only reminded me that I was still completely conflicted about the man, questioning what I thought I knew of him all while fighting an irrational attraction that would only cause me trouble in the long run.

That bad mood I’d been nursing before came rushing back, and when I looked up, I realized Bianca was already at the end of the hall, waiting for me. Giving myself a mental shake, I took a step forward to catch up with her only to spot Sofia rush into the sitting room from the corner of my eye.

Tears streamed down the girl’s face. She spoke quickly in Italian. The blonde’s lips turned down at the interruption, but Luc didn’t seem to mind. He captured Sofia when she launched herself at him and held the sobbing girl against his chest while she cried. I couldn’t make out what he said to her since they both spoke Italian, but I did catch the words falling from Sofia’s lips over and over. “Grazie. Grazie. Grazie, Luc.”

Thank you.

My spine tingled, and realizing I was staring, I moved past the open door and hustled after Bianca. But I had a sinking suspicion I’d just witnessed something I was not meant to see, and it stuck in my head the rest of the day, even after we’d left the Bandini appointment and moved on to the Cipriani fashion show late in the afternoon.

Thank you.

Whatever Luc had done for that girl had changed her entire world. I’d heard it in her voice. I’d seen it in her eyes. And I’d witnessed it on Luc’s face too when he’d rested his cheek on the top of Sofia’s head, closed his eyes, and held her gently against him.

A killer didn’t do that. A killer couldn’t fake that kind of compassion. Which meant…

Luc might not be the man I needed to be investigating.

My heartbeat turned to a whir in my ears. Luciano Salvatici had just changed my entire world too. And now I had absolutely no idea what to do next.

---

I kept a low profile at the Cipriani fashion show. I was still rattled, still trying to process what I’d seen earlier and make it fit with what I knew of Luc.

All the shows were held at Santo Spirito in Sassia, in the heart of the city. Luc had tried to chat with me about the private Bandini showing in the car on the way here, but I’d been too distracted to do more than mumble yes and no and nod as if I were paying attention. I knew he suspected something was up with me—even I knew I was acting strangely—but he didn’t ask in the car, and as soon as we’d arrived at our destination, I’d found a quiet corner to hang out in and quietly stress while the lights dimmed and the models took the stage.

A long runway was set up in the middle of the dark room. Chairs faced the catwalk on both sides so spectators could view the fashions from every angle. I spotted celebrities in the crowd of onlookers, a few famous sports personalities, even a member of England’s royal family, but my gaze kept sliding back to Luc in the front row. To the man who’d just rocked my world out from under me with one act of kindness I still didn’t understand.

He’d slipped back into his jacket and tie in the car and was now next to a well-known Hollywood actress. That actress flirted blatantly with him throughout the entire show, and he nodded and responded to her at all the appropriate times, but I sensed he wasn’t enjoying himself. Maybe it was the tightness to his spine as he sat in his chair. Maybe it was the flex of his jaw whenever he thought no one was watching. And maybe it was the way he kept glancing back to my dark corner as if to check that I was still there. I wasn’t sure what was giving me this strange feeling. All I knew for sure was that this man—the one who seemed to fit this lavish lifestyle like a well-made leather glove fits a race-car driver’s hand—was not the real Luciano Salvatici.

I’d heard the real Luc when he’d spoken softly to Sofia and comforted the crying girl against his chest. I’d seen the real Luc outside my bedroom door when he’d smiled at me—not the fake smile he showed the world, but the real one that lit up his face, softened his features, and turned his stormy eyes a soft shade of silver that accentuated the unique shape of his left pupil. And I’d felt the real him in the hand closed tightly around my wrist against that doorknob. I’d felt him in the way his muscles had relaxed even though they still held me firm, in the way his pulse had slowed against my skin, in the way everything about him had shifted from agitated to calm and centered in the span of a heartbeat.

That was the real Luc, not this image of the perfect celebrity. Not the angry asshole who’d yelled at me in the car. Not even the arrogant CEO who’d belittled me on more than one occasion. The real Luc—the one who could set my body aflame with just one look—was hidden behind a mask.

I didn’t know what secrets he was protecting. I didn’t know why he’d shown me glimpses of his true self when he didn’t show them to anyone else. I only knew that I wanted to see more. I wanted to know what made him tick. Since this afternoon, since I’d witnessed that scene between him and Sofia, it was all I could think about. Just as the Phantom at that party on Long Island was all I’d been able to think about when I’d been with Gio.

A whisper of heat flared in my belly, slid up to encircle my breasts, and tightened my nipples.

The Phantom.

My memory skipped back to that party, to the way the Phantom had watched me from the corner of the room, his muscles tense, his posture just as uncomfortable as Luc’s was now.

Luc shifted in his seat and glanced at me then, and as our gazes held across the room, my heart sped up and my skin grew hot. His stormy eyes had turned icy when he’d seen me talking with David Bonello. As icy as the Phantom’s had behind that mask when Gio had grasped my hand and pulled me out of that party.

Disjointed memories filled my head. Pulsing lights. Bodies grinding together. A heavy bass I felt beat through my entire body. I saw stairs. I saw Gio with two women, motioning me to follow. I saw mattresses and bare skin and bodies thrusting against each other. I saw a woman on her knees in front of Gio and another rubbing against his back.

The fashion show spun around me, melding with the memories I couldn’t quite make sense of. I heard grunts and moans. I heard skin slapping skin. And I heard Luc, whispering the word cazzo against my lips, his warm breath sending shivers of excitement all through my body as I opened my eyes and stared at the Phantom mask covering the top half of his face.

My pulse sped up. My skin grew slick and clammy. I couldn’t suck in a full breath, couldn’t make the room stop spinning around me. Needing air, needing space, I rushed from my corner, shoving my way through bodies until I reached the hallway. There were fewer people out here, but my lungs were still tight, my head still dizzy. I pushed my feet into a jog, weaving around people, and didn’t stop until I shoved a door at the end of a long corridor open and stumbled into an area with trees and flowers and an ornate fountain.

I dropped to the seat that encircled the small pool. Warm sunlight beat down on me from above. I focused on that heat, on the way it seeped into my skin. Long minutes passed where all I did was breathe deeply to bring my heart rate down. Finally, when I felt steadier, I opened my eyes and discovered I was in a courtyard. A handful of tables and chairs sat on the cobblestones around the central fountain, and past the corner, I could hear glasses clinking and voices laughing in what I knew was a café.

The sounds were normal. The flowers in my line of sight were real. The heat of the sun was calming. But even with my eyes open, all I could see was that Phantom mask. All I heard was Luc’s voice whispering that one word to me—cazzo. All I felt was his lips pressed against mine.

My hand shook as I lifted it to my lips and skimmed my fingers over the suddenly sensitive flesh. Luc had been at that party. He’d watched me from across the room in that Phantom mask, the same way he’d watched me today at that private showing…as if he couldn’t take his eyes off me. And I’d kissed him. I’d kissed him like a woman starved, and he’d kissed me back with just as much need and heat and hunger.

My heart sped up again. I didn’t know why I’d kissed him. I didn’t know why he’d been there or why he’d kissed me back. Everything after that kiss was a blur in my memory, but something told me he was the reason I’d made it home unharmed. I’d been drugged by Gio—I didn’t doubt that now. Somehow, Luc had saved me. He’d gotten me out of there, he’d taken me home, and I’d kissed him.

My breasts tingled, and a heavy weight settled between my thighs, followed by an uncontrollable urge to kiss him again. One that came out of nowhere and made me want to kiss him right now to find out if his lips were as soft and wet as they seemed in my mind.

My phone buzzed in my pocket. Hand shaking, I pulled it out and looked at the screen.

Sickness rolled through my belly as I remembered Gio giving me that drink and watching me with predatory eyes. The way he’d dragged me out of the mansion and along that dark path. The way he’d stepped close and whispered in my ear that he couldn’t wait to feel me tremble. The things he’d been doing with those two women in that other house.

“Sta bene, signora?”

The female voice somewhere close jolted me out of the disturbing memories and brought my head up. A dark-haired woman with round brown eyes peered down at me. I blinked several times, realizing I must look like a woman on the edge of freaking out—which I was.

“Um,” I cleared my throat. “Sorry, I don’t speak Italian.”

The woman smiled, and when she did, a dimple creased her left cheek, one I’d seen somewhere before. “You are American?”

“Yes.” I turned my phone off, ignoring Gio’s text, and slipped it back into the pocket of my slacks.

“Here for the fashion show?”

My mind shot back to Luc sitting beside the runway, and my whole body tightened with another urge to press my lips against his. “Uh… Just getting some air. It’s too crowded in there.”

The woman smiled wider and nodded toward the seat beside me. “May I?”

I wasn’t in the mood for company, but I heard myself mutter, “Yeah. Sure.”

The woman sat beside me with a sigh. She wore a simple blue dress and black flats, not cutting-edge designs or expensive fabrics. And she wasn’t flashy or made up like the people inside, but something about her felt familiar just the same.

“Are you here for the fashion show?” I asked, wondering where I’d seen her before. She was Italian, with golden skin and striking dark looks, but something about the way she carried herself told me she wasn’t in the industry.

“Yes. I’m waiting for my daughter to finish. She’s one of the models.”

“Ooh.” That’s why I recognized her. She must look like one of the young girls I‘d seen parading around the events the last few days. “Is your daughter exclusive to Cipriani?” I asked, keeping the conversation going because I wasn’t quite steady enough to go back in and face Luc yet. I was still fighting this overwhelming urge to grab him and do something totally reckless.

“No. She’s modeled for most of the big designers here before. But this is her last show.”

“It is?” That surprised me. If a girl was gorgeous enough to model for a designer as big as Cipriani, it meant her career was on the upswing, not the downhill slide.

“Yes, her father is sick. Her modeling was a blessing at first, what with the money coming in to help out since my husband can no longer work at the restaurant, but lately, its become a curse. More and more models are signing exclusive deals, and it’s difficult to find steady work if you don’t. We thought she was going to have to sign one herself, but now”—a wide smile pulled at her lips, deepening the dimple in her cheek—“now she doesn’t have to model at all anymore.”

Understanding hit me like a baseball to the forehead. “You’re Sofia’s mother?”

The woman’s eyes—eyes that were exactly like Sofia’s, I finally noticed—widened. “Yes. You know my Sofia?”

“I-I met her today. At a meeting with the Bandini people. I’m Luciano Salvatici’s assistant.”

She sucked in a surprised breath, and her entire face brightened. “Oh, my…Luc.” Tears filled her eyes as she pressed her hand against her chest. “It is because of him my Sofia can come home.”

Perspiration dotted my forehead. And, again, I knew it was none of my business, but I couldn’t stop myself from wondering. Had Luc signed Sofia to an exclusive deal with Covet? But if that were the case, why was this woman saying Sofia never had to model again? “How?”

“Today he bought our restaurant for four times what it’s worth. He’s hiring all new staff.” Her eyes gleamed. “And he’s made us managers.” She lifted her eyes to the sky, smiling even as she swiped at her tears. “Our restaurant has struggled ever since Alessandro fell ill, and my heart has been so broken since Sofia had to leave us. But now…” She shook her head. “Now we do not have to worry any longer. Sofia can come home. There is enough money for Alessandro’s medicine and for us to live. There will even be enough for Sofia to go to university when she’s old enough. She will not have to sell her body to keep our family together.”

My stomach twisted at the woman’s last comment. I wasn’t sure what she meant by it, but before I could ask, she said, “Luciano Salvatici is bello angelo. I never thought a man such as him could do something so wonderful.” She shook her head swiftly. “The day he wandered into our restaurant three years ago, my Alessandro wanted to kick him out. I wouldn’t let him—it wouldn’t have been the Christian thing to do—but inside, I was just as scared. A Salvatici in our restaurant? So close to our home? I was sure we were cursed. Alessandro was convinced he’d been lured to us by Sofia’s modeling, and even though Sofia claimed he was nice, that he wasn’t like the others, my Alessandro forced her to quit. But then Alessandro fell ill, and Sofia had to take jobs once again to help with our finances. Alessandro and I feared she’d be lost to us forever, but then…then Luciano stepped in and did this…” She held her hands out, smiling all over again, her eyes wet with unshed, happy tears. “This is a miracle from God himself. Luc is a miracle from the heavens above.”

I had no idea what she was talking about. All I knew was that Luc had helped this family in a way that meant the world to this woman. What I’d seen earlier was the real him. And that urge to find him, to touch him, to kiss him as I had the night of that party on Long Island, overwhelmed every thought.

Sofia’s mother swiped at her tears and pinned me with a very focused look. “Do not let anyone convince you he is evil. He is not like the rest of that family. He is good and honest, and I will forever regret every awful thing I ever thought about him.”

Footsteps sounded from the doorway I’d come through, followed by an excited voice calling, “Mamma!”

The woman next to me rose. I watched in a daze as Sofia rushed into the courtyard and threw her arms around her mother. They spoke in rushed Italian, and as I looked up at them together, I could easily see the similarities in their features. And the dimples in both their cheeks.

I pushed to my feet, confused by what I’d just learned. Sofia’s mother’s words about Luc’s family circled in my head as I stood awkwardly by the fountain, waiting for the mother and daughter to end their embrace.

“Do not let anyone convince you he is evil.”

Had I ever thought Luc was evil? I wasn’t sure. I’d considered him a suspect, sure. Was he rude? Yes. Domineering? Absolutely. But evil… Nothing I’d seen in New York or Rome had led me to think he was evil.

“He is not like the rest of his family.”

Gio’s face popped into my mind, and my stomach pitched when I remembered his sleazy smile and the drink he’d pushed into my hand at that party. Was Sofia’s mother talking about Gio? Did she know him as well? If she knew Luc, it was a possibility. But even something about that didn’t seem right.

Another set of footsteps sounded near the doorway, and with my head still spinning and my heart now racing, I glanced in that direction. Then caught my breath when my gaze locked with Luc’s.

He looked from me to Sofia’s mother at my side and back again, and his features tightened. Almost as if…

As if I’d unmasked him, and he’d just realized what I’d seen.

All that heat steamrolled through me again, electrifying my body in ways I’d never felt before. My stomach quivered, my nipples hardened, and between my legs, I grew hot and wet and needy.

“Luc!” Sofia twisted out of her mother’s arms and rushed to him, hugging him quickly and drawing him toward her mother.

That same rapid Italian I didn’t understand spilled from her lips, but when Luc reached the pair and I watched the way Sofia’s mother drew him into a warm embrace, I didn’t need to understand the language to know what they were saying.

I could see it in the excitement on the young girl’s face. I could hear the gratitude in her mother’s voice. And I could see the unease in Luc’s stormy eyes as he glanced at me, then looked back at them and tried to hide his discomfort with that tight, fake smile.

In a rush of understanding, I knew that this was the real Luc. This man who’d helped Sofia and her family was the same man who’d rescued me, not just from that party, but from a fate I didn’t want to imagine. It wasn’t a coincidence that he’d shown up at my door the morning after that party. He hadn’t brought me to Italy to give me a second shot with Covet. He’d brought me here to keep me safe from his brother. He’d brought me here because he cared.

My mouth grew dry with the certainty Luc was not Laney’s killer and that I was wasting my time by being here. I needed to shift my focus to Gio. I needed to start plotting all the ways I was going to prove Gio had murdered my friend. Only I couldn’t make my brain think about Gio now. All I could focus on was Luc.

All I could see was that kiss. All I remembered was the way his mouth had devoured mine. And as I watched him watching me across the space with wariness and need and the same damn hunger suddenly stirring inside me, all I felt was heat.

A blistering, fiery heat that flared deep in my chest, rolled through my blood, and told me everything between us was about to change.