Page 3 of Sicilian Savior

I shrugged. “No idea. My mom was Sicilian, and my dad was just some run-of-the-mill American mutt.”

She chuckled.

“Parla italiano?” I asked.

“Not really.” She shook her head, pushing a piece of wet hair from her eyes. “My grandparents immigrated here, but my parents were both born in America, so we spoke English in our house. I know a little Italian, but not much. My grandparents always scold me for not knowing more.”

“I only know some as well. Enough to get by if needed.”

“Your mom didn’t teach you either?” she asked, her shoulders loosening.

“She died when I was six,” I answered. “And my father didn’t speak any.”

“I’m sorry,” she said, and those fearful eyes of hers softened a little more.

“I barely remember her.” I shrugged, the pain from that memory no longer stinging like it used to. “But thanks.”

Even drenched, with makeup streaked down her face, she was as beautiful a woman as I’d ever seen. The soaked clothes clung to her petite figure, and I had to force my eyes to obey and not drift down to drink in the curves of her hips and her breasts. Something about this woman pulled at something inside of me, and I struggled to process the emotions she evoked.

An awkward silence settled over us for a few moments, and I realized I was just staring at her like a dumbstruck kid, completely mesmerized by her beauty.

I tore my eyes away from her and jutted my chin at her sink. “Uh, so your pipes. Now that I’ve got the water off, I’m gonna get under there and take a better look and see what’s going on. Do you have any towels?” I glanced to the dripping wet one on the floor, stifling my chuckle at her unsuccessful attempt to stop the powerful spray with a towel. “Dry ones, preferably.”

“I think so. I’ll go look and be right back.”

She walked past, keeping a slight distance as she moved around me to the door. But she came close enough that I got hit with an intoxicating scent. A bouquet of aromas that were almost as sweet and beautiful as Lucia. If she was selling lotion that smelled like that, I bet people would be lined up for miles to get in her store.

As she took a step around me, she slipped on the wet floor. I launched forward and caught her in my arms before she fell backward on that perfect ass.

“You okay?” I asked as I looked down at the beauty suspended in my arms.

She stared up at me, her rapid breaths moving her ribcage against my hands. That same intense fear I’d seen in her eyes before returned. I knew I wasn’t exactly a safe-looking son of a bitch, but most women looked at me with desire in their eyes. A bad boy they couldn’t wait to tame.

And failed. Always.

But this woman’s eyes weren’t filled with desire or lust. They were filled with terror. True, unmistakable terror. It was a look I recognized. I’d seen it in the eyes of many of my marks just before I’d ended their lives. But theirs was a deserved fear... a fear acknowledging their unavoidable end. Why Lucia looked at me like I may kill her at any moment, I had no idea.

“You okay?” I asked as I set her up on her feet.

“Uh, yeah. Thanks. It’s slippery.”

“A flooded floor will do that.”

She flitted her eyes to the ground with a soft smile and carefully walked to the door.

I stepped further out of her way and let her pass. As I watched her hips sway when she walked away, I decided to forgive Ned for calling me out here. Just getting a look at such a beautiful woman was well worth the drive, right along with getting soaked to the core.

She glanced over her shoulder and appraised me with one last cautious look. Something inside me rumbled like a flashing danger sign, and it awakened a need inside me like a volcano awakening after a long slumber. I couldn’t remember a time I felt the inexplicable need to safeguard something so much. And not because it was an order or my job. This woman feared for her life, and I felt compelled to protect her. I just needed to find out what was causing her so much fear... and remove it from this beautiful woman’s life.

CHAPTER TWO

Lucia

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I came back carrying an armful of towels I’d used for packing and slowed to a stop when I saw Knox again.

I took in the back of his rippling muscles as he knelt beneath my sink, his worn work boots getting wetter by the second as they soaked up the water pooled on the floor. The rear-view rivals the front, I thought while I let my eyes rove over his jean-clad round ass.