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What is it about the Martinelli brothers?
“But it was a long time ago, and my life has changed. And I still don’t want to be involved in the family business. He’s neck-deep in it. It wouldn’t work.”
“I understand what you mean.”
“Now, you tell us about Carmine,” Ivie says with a smile. “Come on, spill it.”
I don’t want to hold back, so I tell them everything, from my father asking me to keep an eye on Carmine, to him finding me at the resort in Miami, and everything that went down since then.
It just feels so damn good to tell someone I trust what’s going on.
“And now he’s going to take you to France?”
I nod, thinking it over. “I should talk to Papa before he goes back to Atlanta. Make sure he doesn’t have a problem with it.”
“How does it feel to be in love with Carmine?” Annika asks.
“I’m not in love with him.” I shake my head and stand to pace. “I mean, I like him. We have a good time together. The sex is crazy. And over the past few months, I’ve grown to trust him—which surprised me the most.”
“But you don’t love him.” Ivie’s tongue is in her cheek, and I glare at her.
“No. I don’t love him.”
Even I hear the lie.
“We’re enjoying each other.”
“Enjoy away,” Annika says. “You’ve earned it.”
“Right. I discovered that your husband was a killer and a drug dealer. I don’t feel like I’ve earned a posh European vacation.”
“I discovered it,” she reminds me. “It’s not your fault that I fell in love with a liar. Now, you can stop babysitting me because I’m a damn strong woman who can figure this out. And I have Ivie here. Go have crazy amazing French sex.”
I giggle. “Is French sex different from regular sex?”
“Go find out,” Ivie says. “We’ve got things handled here. I’ll keep Rich’s mom under control.”
“Oh.” I turn to her and prop my hands on my hips. “Did Shane ever call you?”
“Yeah.” A smile covers her pretty face. “We’ve talked a bit. All on the phone. He’s…interesting. Intense. Sexy as all get-out.”
“What is it about the Martinelli brothers?” I voice the question this time, and we all giggle. “They’re too sexy for their own good.”
* * *
“I’m glad I caught you.” I walk into my father’s office, shut the door, and walk around the desk to hug him. “How are you, Papa?”
“I’m always better when my daughter comes to see me.” He grins and kisses my cheek. “What are you up to, little one?”
“I just wanted to talk to you before you went back to Atlanta.” I sit on the desk next to him and let my feet dangle, the way I’ve done since I was a small girl. “I haven’t spent much time with you in a while.”
“You’ve been busy,” he says, leaning back in his wide leather chair. “I hope you’re planning to take some time off now.”
“Actually, that’s what I wanted to talk to you about.” I clear my throat. “Carmine invited me to go to France with him for a couple of weeks.”
Something sparks in my father’s eyes, but then he blinks, and it’s gone.
“And did you accept?”
“Yes, but I thought I should run it by you, in case it’s something you’d rather I not do.”
“You’re an adult, Nadia. You can spend time with whomever you choose.”
My eyes find his. “You know that isn’t true.”
Papa takes a long, deep breath. “It’s true. There are men that I would not be okay with you spending time with. Like Billy Sergi.”
“I’d not be okay if I spent time with him.” I wrinkle my nose. “The little worm.”
“I hope you enjoy yourselves,” Papa says. “There’s a restaurant on the Seine that I highly recommend.”
“Thank you.” I bend down and kiss his cheek again. “I miss you, Papa. When I get back, let’s spend a weekend together.”
“I’d love nothing more, little one. Be safe. Tell Carmine I’ll break both his legs if even a hair is disturbed on my precious daughter’s head.”
I laugh, but I know the threat is real. “No need to be violent. I’d better go pack. I think we’re leaving this evening.”
“Nadia.”
I turn back to him with raised brows. “Yes, Papa.”
“I love you.”
“I love you, too.”
* * *
“I think that’s it.” I walk through the Airbnb, making sure that I didn’t forget anything. “I brought more than I thought.”
“We shopped in New York,” Carmine reminds me as he sets our suitcases by the front door.
“Ah, yes, how could I forget New York?”
He catches my hand and pulls me against him, then nibbles the side of my mouth. I immediately turn to mushy goo.
This man is potent.
“We’re trying to leave,” I remind him. “Not get naked again.”
“I’ll get you naked on the plane.”
He lets go, and I stare after him. “On the plane? But we won’t be alone.”
