absence of any son of mine.”
Nicole gasped and hugged herself.
“Jamison?”
“ Si, he would have been good for you. Now…” He ran a weary hand over his face. “Now, well, he will not want soiled goods.”
Nicole bristled at that, but the look of disappointment Papa gave her before he turned his back on her and left made her want to cry.
How in all that was holy had she managed to get this all so wrong?
****
Jamie pulled up outside the Don’s mansion pissed beyond reason that Nicoletta would appear to be going through with this wedding. The big marquee in the Don’s garden mocked him, as did the number of guests already milling about.
Two of his own team of security nodded toward him when he got out of his sports car, and Jamie reached into the back to pull out the formal suit he’d have to wear for this farce of a wedding.
He’d thought he’d been pissed when he found her note in the morning, but that had paled into nothingness compared to the roiling emotions which churned in his gut. That little madam would so regret her actions when he got his hands on her.
Taking a deep breath to cool his temper, he approached the wide open doors leading into the spacious foyer which made up the Don’s house, and the fine hair on his back rose. Something was very wrong with the atmosphere in this place. He’d have expected the busy hubbub of a house readying itself for the big day, but a depressing silence filled the big place.
Luigi Armantero, one of the Don’s best men, supposedly—Jamie reserved judgment on that—after all Nicoletta had slipped away from his and his brother Stefano all too easily that night—stepped up to him and gestured for him to follow.
“Don Cabrizi is in his study. He wants to see you.”
The man looked far from happy. Then again, so he should. Jamie had no intention of letting such tardiness go. When Luigi pushed open the heavy door guarding the Don’s inner sanctum, that itch of foreboding Jamie had had on entering the mansion magnified tenfold. Don Cabrizi sat at his desk, cradling a brandy glass in his large hands, which he raised in silent salute to Jamie.
“Want one?” he asked.
“A bit early for that, don’t you think?”
The older man gave a short humorless laugh, and downed his large shot of the amber liquid in one go, before he slammed it back on the desk.
“I hate women. They’re nothing but fucking trouble.”
Jamie hid his smile at that outburst.
“Maybe, but they do have their uses.”
A snort was his answer this time, and he watched with growing alarm as the Don filled another glass to the brim. At this rate he would be stone drunk at his only daughter’s wedding.
“Go easy on that. You don’t want to stumble up the aisle when you give her away.”
Another one of those grim laughs which made Jamie wonder what the fuck was going on.
“Okay, what has she done this time?” he asked.
“The wedding’s off.”
The Don’s curt response sat in the room, and Jamie struggled to keep his expression neutral, as the other man downed another glass and eventually looked up at him.
“She won’t get married. Besides, who’d want her now…”
Don Cabrizi launched into Italian, giving Jamie a precious few minutes to digest this information. What he really wanted to do was fist pump the air, and race up there and kiss his girl senseless, but that was hardly appropriate behavior. So he forced himself to ignore the sudden flare of hope that seemed determined to take up residence in his chest anyway. So she called off the wedding. That didn’t mean she had done it for him.
Best not to read too much into this, until he had all the facts.
“Did she say why?” Jamie asked when the Don stopped his ranting to himself.
“Oh yes, she’s fallen in love, or so Lisetta tells me. How the fuck? I had her watched so closely. Who the fuck dared to…” The glass went flying through the air and crashed against the wall, just under the portrait of her mother.
Nicole gasped and hugged herself.
“Jamison?”
“ Si, he would have been good for you. Now…” He ran a weary hand over his face. “Now, well, he will not want soiled goods.”
Nicole bristled at that, but the look of disappointment Papa gave her before he turned his back on her and left made her want to cry.
How in all that was holy had she managed to get this all so wrong?
****
Jamie pulled up outside the Don’s mansion pissed beyond reason that Nicoletta would appear to be going through with this wedding. The big marquee in the Don’s garden mocked him, as did the number of guests already milling about.
Two of his own team of security nodded toward him when he got out of his sports car, and Jamie reached into the back to pull out the formal suit he’d have to wear for this farce of a wedding.
He’d thought he’d been pissed when he found her note in the morning, but that had paled into nothingness compared to the roiling emotions which churned in his gut. That little madam would so regret her actions when he got his hands on her.
Taking a deep breath to cool his temper, he approached the wide open doors leading into the spacious foyer which made up the Don’s house, and the fine hair on his back rose. Something was very wrong with the atmosphere in this place. He’d have expected the busy hubbub of a house readying itself for the big day, but a depressing silence filled the big place.
Luigi Armantero, one of the Don’s best men, supposedly—Jamie reserved judgment on that—after all Nicoletta had slipped away from his and his brother Stefano all too easily that night—stepped up to him and gestured for him to follow.
“Don Cabrizi is in his study. He wants to see you.”
The man looked far from happy. Then again, so he should. Jamie had no intention of letting such tardiness go. When Luigi pushed open the heavy door guarding the Don’s inner sanctum, that itch of foreboding Jamie had had on entering the mansion magnified tenfold. Don Cabrizi sat at his desk, cradling a brandy glass in his large hands, which he raised in silent salute to Jamie.
“Want one?” he asked.
“A bit early for that, don’t you think?”
The older man gave a short humorless laugh, and downed his large shot of the amber liquid in one go, before he slammed it back on the desk.
“I hate women. They’re nothing but fucking trouble.”
Jamie hid his smile at that outburst.
“Maybe, but they do have their uses.”
A snort was his answer this time, and he watched with growing alarm as the Don filled another glass to the brim. At this rate he would be stone drunk at his only daughter’s wedding.
“Go easy on that. You don’t want to stumble up the aisle when you give her away.”
Another one of those grim laughs which made Jamie wonder what the fuck was going on.
“Okay, what has she done this time?” he asked.
“The wedding’s off.”
The Don’s curt response sat in the room, and Jamie struggled to keep his expression neutral, as the other man downed another glass and eventually looked up at him.
“She won’t get married. Besides, who’d want her now…”
Don Cabrizi launched into Italian, giving Jamie a precious few minutes to digest this information. What he really wanted to do was fist pump the air, and race up there and kiss his girl senseless, but that was hardly appropriate behavior. So he forced himself to ignore the sudden flare of hope that seemed determined to take up residence in his chest anyway. So she called off the wedding. That didn’t mean she had done it for him.
Best not to read too much into this, until he had all the facts.
“Did she say why?” Jamie asked when the Don stopped his ranting to himself.
“Oh yes, she’s fallen in love, or so Lisetta tells me. How the fuck? I had her watched so closely. Who the fuck dared to…” The glass went flying through the air and crashed against the wall, just under the portrait of her mother.
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