Golden refused to leave his side, pressing her head against his leg. His hand was huge, his fingers also muscular, but he was very gentle in his actions. “Because that’s the way life can be. Who are you?”
“Like you, I’m also no one special.” I was still breathless, incapable of putting a coherent sentence together.
“You’re very special,malen’kiyangel.”
Angel I understood. I also realized he was Russian. “What did you call me?”
“Little angel. A very beautiful angel.”
No man ever dared talk to me that way. I was nervous, but not fearful of him. I was too attracted to feel anything but a strange sense of desire. “What’s your name?”
A sudden shrill whistle interrupted us, my father’s head of operations appearing from deep within the vines. “What is the meaning of this?” Marco Pisano was nothing but a brutal overlord, a man I couldn’t stand.
Given he’d used English, so did I in return. “Nothing, Marco. Golden just ran up to this very nice worker. Nothing more.”
“Get back to work,” Marco snarled, glaring at the handsome man. While Marco didn’t like anyone, his hatred of the attractive stranger seemed personal.
The stranger offered a slight smile before obeying Marco’s harsh words, nodding before turning away.
“He was just taking a break, Marco.”
Marco was turned away from me and with exaggerated actions, he slapped his hands on his hips, dropping his head as if I was nothing but an errant fly on his shoulder. When he shifted toward me, the anger was evident in his eyes.
I’d once been frightened of the man but not any longer. He was cruel and heartless. The horrors I’d seen while snooping disgusted me. I could tell my defiance shocked him as well.
“Questo maiale è stato assunto per svolgere un lavoro.”
This pig was hired to do a job.
“In English, Marco. He doesn’t understand Italian.” For once in my life, I allowed my fury to be recognized. Also, my position in the family. The bastard was required to respect me.
Marco acted as if he would challenge me and in doing so, I sensed tension within the stranger. His eyes were pinned on my father’s man, his chest rising and falling as every muscle tensed.
This wasn’t good. Any challenge made against Marco would result in the employee being fired.
Or worse.
My father’s reputation and that of his upper ranking staff were widely known across all of Italy, not just in Sicily where we lived. Every seasonal worker had a story, either poverty or being unemployable based on imprisonment or immigration. Whatever the stranger’s story, it was obvious he needed money. My interference would only cause him trouble.
I offered a slight smile to the handsome man, nodding in an unspoken effort for him to take a step away. While his eyes flashed in recognition, he didn’t seem inclined to follow my suggestion.
“Come here, Golden.” Reaching for her, I continued glaring at Marco. Yes, he would likely tell my father I’d interfered with business, but he knew to be careful. Anyone who spokeinappropriately, touched or threatened Demarco Marichetti’s daughter would face his brutal wrath.
And I wasn’t immune to being highly dramatic when necessary. Marco was well aware.
Marco seemed to take the hint, pointing to another line of grapes.
With a heavy sigh, I watched the stranger walk away, noticing several scars on his back as well as another tattoo covering several inches.
The face of the devil.
Tingling sensations wrapped every inch of my body, tiny, heated vibrations that I hoped would linger long into the night.
My fur baby wasn’t interested in listening to Marco’s rules, barking her response. When Marco snarled and dare lift a hand as if he was going to strike Golden, the stranger turned and dashed back, snapping his fingers around Marco’s wrist, bending it back until Marco howled.
The stranger’s teeth were gritted, his chiseled jaw clenched in rage. Even the thick cords on both sides of his neck were pronounced, an indication he was about to snap. Another incident I couldn’t allow to happen.
I did the unthinkable. I took a step closer, placing my hand on the stranger’s chest.
