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“Your father saved you.”
He swallowed roughly. “He did.”
His face was etched in such hard lines of pain that it made her heart ache. Gently she kissed his jaw, and his chin, and then his mouth. “I wish your father was my father. He’s such a brave man.”
Vitt reached for her, drew her up onto his chest and kissed her back. “But he is your father now, and you are part of this family now. We are one. You must believe that.”
They kissed and then made love slowly, leisurely before falling back asleep for another hour. But finally they rose and showered together before collecting Joe from the nursery to take him to have breakfast with them.
They were in the middle of having breakfast when Theresa appeared, dressed in tailored cream slacks and a gold knit tank with a rope of crystals, pearls and small gold beads around her neck. She looked polished, wealthy and very angry.
“You had a phone call, Jillian,” Theresa said shortly, “on the house phone. I wasn’t about to chase you down so I took the number. You’re to call him back. He said soon.”
She handed Jillian a piece of paper. “It’s not anyone working on the wedding. I know, because I asked him. Who else did you give our number to?”
Jillian shook her head. “No one.”
“Must have been someone, because he called.” Theresa smiled but even that was chilly. “Oh, and he’s American. Apparently a friend with an urgent problem. Do call him back, but in the future, I’d prefer it if your friends used your wireless number.”
Jillian felt Vitt’s gaze and she turned to him. “I can’t imagine who’d call.”
“Go find out,” he said, unconcerned. “Joe and I will be here waiting.”
Jillian was troubled as she dialed the number Theresa had written down. She couldn’t imagine who would call her at the d’Severano’s Paterno castle. No one knew she was here. No one could possibly have the d’Severanos’ number.
The phone rang three times before a man answered. “Hello?” he said.
“This is Jillian d’Severano returning your call. Whom am I speaking with?”
“A friend.”
Her skin suddenly crawled. “My friends have names. What is yours?”
“Does it matter?”
“Yes, it does.”
“In that case you can call me Mark, or Marco, whichever you prefer.”
Jillian’s legs nearly went out beneath her. Marco was the name of Katie’s boyfriend. “Marco, you say?”
“That’s what your sister called me.”
She sank down on the white slipcovered couch in the sitting room. Her head spun. She felt close to fainting. “How…how…did you find me?”
“I have friends in high places. Police. CIA. FBI.” He laughed a little. “Heck, I might even be a friend in a high place. I guess you never know, which is why it’s important to know who your friends are.”
“What do you want?”
“I’m sure you know what I want. It’s what I—we—have always wanted. It’s not very much. A few numbers. One little street address. And you’re done.”
“I’m sorry, I don’t follow.”
“I want your father’s address.”
“I don’t know it.”
He snorted. “You expect me to believe that?”
