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"Is it a cousin to R2D2?"
He glances at me strangely. "It’s made in Italy, but the horsepower is completely American."
I place Avery in the baby seat and strap her in. I hold up her bunny, and she grabs hold of it and immediately begins to chew on it. I place the bag with all of her essentials on the floor in front of her, then walk around to the passenger seat. Before I can reach for the door, he opens it for me. "Thank you," I murmur, then slide into the seat.
He shuts the door, rounds the hood to the driver’s seat, and straps himself in.
"Seatbelt," he reminds me as he turns the ignition key. The muted purr of the car’s engine fills the space. I buckle in and he eases the car onto the road. There’s something about an expensive vehicle: you can feel the power under the soles of your feet, sense it as it glides down the road. But when you glance out of the windows, the world is still the same. The scene is exactly how it would be if you were looking out through the windows of any another vehicle. But somehow, everything is different.
He joins the stream of traffic, keeping well below the speed limit. The throb of the vehicle’s engine, though, hints at the latent power possessed by this machine. A bit like the man next to me. His broad shoulders are encased in a tailor-made jacket, his tie is dark against the stark white of his shirt. His wide palms and thick fingers caress the steering wheel as he guides the SUV along. His thigh muscles flex as he depresses the accelerator. His entire being is a mass of tightly restrained control. Authority pours off of him. The little I’ve seen of the Sovrano brothers has made it clear to me that Seb lucked out with the best features of all his brothers. Almost as tall as Massimo, as gorgeous as Axel and Christian, as mean looking as Luca, as authoritative as Michael, and as deceptively easygoing as Adrian.
Yeah, he’s gorgeous, larger-than-life, someone who’s a real catch. Not that I’m bad looking. I mean, I’ve never put myself down in comparison to a man, but still… When I take in his beautiful profile, his larger-than-life presence, the way he carries himself as if he owns the world and expects all of us mere mortals to fall in line with his commands, which is exactly what I did… Well then, I can’t help but wonder why he wants to marry me. He’s given me all of the reasons, but somehow, it still doesn’t make sense.
"What are you thinking?" His deep voice cuts through my thoughts.
"That you need to make a right up ahead."
"I know." He nods at the GPS. "I have the address keyed in."
"So, you know where my ex lives?" I shake my head. "Of course, you know where my ex lives." I turn to face him fully. "Is there anything about me you don’t know?"
"I don’t know the color of your panties," he shoots back.
"Shh." I turn to glance over my shoulder and find Avery nodding in her car seat.
"That was a very effective change of topic." I place my hands in my lap. "I’m really not comfortable with this whole thing. My ex... He’s not a nice man. It’s one of the reasons I left him. He took Avery and moved to Italy, and I had no choice but to follow. He’s the Police Commissioner, so he has the system behind him. It was ridiculously easy for him to prove I was an incompetent mother without the means to take care of my child. Avery was barely a year old when he got custody of her. I was sure I wasn’t going to get to see her at all, but at the last minute, the judge took pity on me and ruled that I would get to see her on weekends. It’s not much, but it’s better than nothing."
I lean over and glance at Avery’s sleeping face again. I’d managed to give her a quick bath and dress her in her favorite pink dress while Seb had made his phone calls from the living room. I’d also managed to pack some essentials for myself in the little time I had.
The car eases to a stop, and I notice the long line of cars in front of us. We remain stationary for a few seconds before the vehicle behind us honks. It’s taken up by the car next to us, then the one in front of us, until all of them seem to be honking in a rhythm that shouldn’t be synchronous, but somehow, is.
The honks fade away, then the driver in the car next to us pushes open his door, steps on the running board, and yells at the cars ahead.
"What’s happening?"
"Traffic jam." Seb thrusts his chin forward in a very Italian gesture that means ‘it’s out of my hands.’
I pull out my phone and glance at the time on it. "We’re going to be late." I shuffle my feet. "I can’t afford to be late."
I turn to glance at Avery, who’s still snoozing. I pull out a tissue and lean over and wipe the drool off her chin.
"If I am late, he’ll report it to the judge, and they’ll use it against me again."
I move around in the seat. "Please, Seb, we can’t be late." I unsnap my seat belt, and he reaches over and grabs my hand.
"What are you doing?"
"We’re only ten minutes away; it’ll be faster if I walk."
"I’m not letting you out on your own."
"I’m not staying in the car." My heart begins to race and a bead of sweat slides down the valley between my breasts. "You don’t understand. Fabio is not a patient man. If I’m even a minute late, he takes it out of the next visit. If I’m more than five minutes late, he takes away half a day from the next visit. And he... he has a temper."
His hold on my hand tightens. "Did he hurt you, Elsa?"
I swallow.
"Did he beat you when you were together? Is that why you left?"
