“It’s nothing,” he said, dismissing the fact that it was clear he’d been in a fight.
She nearly winced at the curtness in his voice. Vittorio had never been curt with her. Not once. He was always gentle in everything he did and said. She had driven a wedge between them and she wasn’t sure how to make things better. She wanted to, especially after talking with Francesca and Sasha.
The Ferraro family was there in force, even their cousins from New York. They were astonishingly handsome men, just like those in Chicago. She figured their looks came from a long line of good genes. Eloisa was conspicuously missing.
“He was defending my honor,” Emmanuelle said. “I think they were all spoiling for a fight, and I said something I shouldn’t have . . .”
“Emme. Stop.” Vittorio’s voice was commanding.
Grace had never heard him use that particular tone. The way he spoke shut down all conversation in the room.
“I’ve got to get Grace home, so if you’ll excuse me, we’ll be taking off now,” Vittorio added.
“You’re not staying for dinner?” Francesca protested.
“No, honey, I’m sorry.” Vittorio softened instantly and bent to brush a kiss along Francesca’s temple.
“Will you bring Grace back to visit? I really enjoyed seeing her.”
“When I get the chance.”
No one but Grace seemed to notice his hesitation. It was a tiny thing but one more blow she felt deeply. He looked tired and unhappy. She desperately wanted to find a way to get him to sleep better and take that look of melancholy from his face. She knew she was responsible for putting it there in the first place. She just hadn’t expected to miss him so much or that his despondency would affect her quite so completely. She actually hurt with the need to make things better for him.
She said her good-byes and stepped into the private elevator with Vittorio. The moment the doors slid closed, she turned to him. “We watched the entire event playing out on the hotel security screens in Francesca’s room. It was really frightening. You moved so fast to save Giuseppi Saldi. I couldn’t help being proud of you but terrified for you at the same time. When you covered his body with yours, you were completely exposed to that gunman.”
She couldn’t keep her voice from shaking or the little bite of accusation out of it. She’d been terrified for him, so had the other women, which hadn’t eased her mind. Demetrio and Drago wanted to turn off the screens, but Francesca had refused.
Vittorio looked down at her from his superior height, making her feel small and fragile. He was a big man all over, his chest, arms and legs heavy with muscle. He was a good foot taller, easily more, and she was slight in comparison. His indigo eyes drifted over her face, making her want to squirm. She did squirm under his focused scrutiny.
The elevator doors slid smoothly open and they were met at the Ferraro private entrance to the hotel by Emilio and Enzo. The car was right there, Enzo holding the door open. Vittorio and Emilio both looked carefully around before Vittorio helped her to slide onto the cool leather of the back seat. He slipped in beside her and Emilio closed the door. Only then did she realize that Enzo wasn’t driving. He was in the front seat and they had a driver she didn’t recognize.
She glanced behind them to see Emilio entering the passenger side of a second car. When they pulled out of the parking lot, Grace realized they were following a lead car. That had never happened before. When she looked up at Vittorio’s set features, she decided not to ask any questions until they were home. Maybe he wouldn’t answer. Maybe she’d lost her chance to be a part of him, but she was determined that when they reached his home she was going to try—and not because his family was amazing and she’d give anything to be part of it, but because she was certain Vittorio Ferraro was the most extraordinary man she’d ever meet and she would forever regret being a coward if she didn’t give what had been growing between them a chance.
She stayed quiet, looking down at her hand, the one on which she spent an inordinate amount of time wiggling her fingers to celebrate the fact that she could. Physical therapy was painful, but she rejoiced in the ability to finally work at getting better. More, Vittorio sat