series of steps unfolded in her mind. Mentally apologizing to Allie, she took another spoonful of soup. She lifted the spoon to her mouth, glanced at Sr. Conti, and then tilted the spoon as if distracted by him, spilling the hot liquid onto her chest.
“Oh!” She jumped up, not needing to fake her reaction.
Stefano leaped to his feet as well and began blotting her dress with his napkin. “Here! Are you hurt?”
“No,” she gasped. “But my dress.”
“Do you need water?”
“Stop, let me see.” She batted away his hands. “Oh no!”
“Is there anything I can do?”
“Let me get my handbag. I’ve got a spot remover in there I can try.” She sprinted over to the sofa before he could offer to get the bag himself. Hoping there was enough liquid to carry off the deception, she put a few drops on the damp silk. Then carried the bottle back to the table with her. “I think that should be enough.”
She took her napkin and dabbed at the stain.
“Perhaps if you removed the dress, it would make the spot easier to clean?” Stefano suggested with an innocent air.
Vi wasn’t fooled. She arched an eyebrow at him. “And if your son should come in and find me half-naked? That would be difficult to explain, even to a young child.”
“Perhaps I should go see where he’s at,” Stefano said, frustration beginning to show in his tone. “Then we will have no more worries.”
“Good idea.” Vi opened the vial as if to place another drop on her dress.
Stefano hesitated and then left her to go to the door.
Seizing the moment, Vi quickly dumped the vial into Stefano’s drink. To hell with dosage. She’d never heard of anyone actually dying from being slipped a Mickey. Dying from being shot at point-blank range afterward, sure, but not from the drug.
In any case she wanted him unconscious as quickly as possible. She had less than thirty minutes left before she had to get out, map or no map.
“Ah, here he is,” Stefano said from the door. “Vita mia.”
In the next moment, Enzo appeared with the maid holding his hand, and Vi’s heart broke. Hair tousled and dressed in puppy-print pajamas, he looked so impossibly small and vulnerable.
He rubbed his eyes, which were red and puffy, as if he’d been crying. “Mama?”
Sighing deeply, Stefano dropped to one knee and kissed his son on the forehead and then said something to him in Italian. Then he stood and, taking his son’s shoulders, turned the boy toward Vi. “Signorina Heart, may I present my son, Enzo Ludovico Paolo Conti.”
“Piacere,” Vi said with a smile, forcing herself to stay where she was, even though all she wanted to do was scoop him up and comfort him.
The boy’s eyes widened. Looking up at Stefano, he tugged on his father’s trousers to get his attention. Once he had it, he asked a rapid set of questions, which made Stefano frown and then glance up at her.
“Forgive me, but my son has decided you are an angel and asks if he could come closer? He wants to ask a favor of you.”
Her heart skipped a beat. She should refuse, given how little time she had left. And yet . . .
“I can send him away if you would rather,” Sr. Conti said.
“No, don’t.” She set the glass vial on the table and then crouched, holding out her arms. “Vieni qui,” she said in her best Italian. Come here.
The boy hesitated for an instant, then glanced at his father, who encouraged him with a gesture of his hand. Shyly, his bottom lip caught in his teeth, Enzo shuffled toward her. Then he abandoned restraint and threw himself into her arms. Tucking himself firmly within her embrace, he began to sob.
Vi buried her face in his silky hair, her heart breaking. The urge to pick him up and flee this place nearly overwhelmed her. She could do it, the war and mission be damned. Everything she had ever wanted was literally in her arms. A precious small being who needed her. Wanted her. Could maybe even love her. Make her whole.
No, stop! Focus. This isn’t Jimmy, a small voice in her head screamed. Stay in the game, or you’ll never see your son again.
But was Jimmy really hers, or was she no different from Stefano, clinging to a child who didn’t want or need her . . . ? Enzo pushed back, his tear-streaked face somber as he asked her something in Italian, something that included the