Bound by the Italian's Contract(21)

                “It’s okay. I’m long over it.” And you. Or was she? Don’t go there, she told herself, focusing instead on what had shaped her. “When my dad passed away, my mother didn’t bother to send me a note or flowers, or even call to check on my welfare.”

                “Perhaps she wasn’t aware of his death.”

                “She knew,” she said, not bothering to soften the bitterness that hardened her voice. “My mother is just as self-centered as she has always been. The day after my dad’s funeral, she told the paparazzi she was out of sorts because her first husband had just passed on.”

                “She is a selfish woman.”

                “Very.”

                He nodded, walking at a more sedate pace toward the sedans again, tension radiating off him as hot as the heat rising from the asphalt tarmac. “You are nothing like her.”

                “That is the greatest compliment you could ever give me,” she said, keeping stride with him as they headed toward his waiting father. “You don’t know how much I envied people who had a normal family.”

                “Normal?” He snorted, the strong line of his jaw going taut. “Mine was far from it.”

                “Come on, you had a mother and father who were married and lived together. My God, you and Julian had everything money could buy. Even after your mother’s death, you told me that your father ensured his sons got the very best education and opportunities available.”

                “True. But don’t confuse a privileged lifestyle with a perfect one,” he said. “‘Money can’t buy happiness’ is a very true saying.”

                A saying her mother would strongly disagree with. “I know.”

                They reached the sedan at the same time the elder Duchelini crossed to intercept them. Hard lines dug grooves into the older man’s tanned features, but they merely enhanced his rugged good looks.

                “Father,” Luciano said, pulling her close. “This is Caprice Tregore, rehabilitation therapist extraordinaire.”

                Certainly not the tag she would add to her name, but it would embarrass her make to make a fuss out of his exaggerated praise. She managed a smile. “Hello.”

                “Good to meet you,” Mr. Duchelini said, and lifted each hand in turn and bestowed a kiss on each. The gesture was so old and charming she couldn’t take offense, yet she felt Luciano stiffening beside her. “Welcome to Italy. I hope your stay proves entertaining.”

                “Thank you, but this is a business trip for me,” she said.

                The older man frowned, looking from her to his son before landing on Luciano. “What is this?”

                “Caprice will be setting up her program at our new lodge,” Luciano said.

                Again, she was treated to another exacting perusal from Luciano’s father. “Ah, a beautiful woman and a smart one as well. A dangerous combination,” he said to his son.

                “Yes, she is,” Luciano said.

                And what was that supposed to mean? The only danger she saw was the powerful draw of Luciano that she constantly fought to ignore.

                “What brings you here, Father?”

                “A problem.” His dark gaze swung to her, assessing she was certain. “If you will excuse us, I need a moment alone with my son.”