Shadow Rider by Christine Feehan

nodding toward a couple of people who stepped out of their shops to greet him. He kept moving because he didn’t want them to engage him in conversation and give her the opportunity to break away.
    â€œThey lost their only son. Cencio was murdered coming out of a theater across town with his fiancée. Lucia was so devastated she nearly died. Amo wasn’t himself for a couple of years, either. I grew up with Cencio. He was a good man. Always laughing. Sweet, like his parents. We served together in Marine Recon. He was someone you could count on. We’d only been out two months before he was murdered.”
    Her face softened. The lashes swept down and back up, but the softness didn’t leave her eyes. “I’m so sorry. That must have been terrible for all of you. He was their only child?”
    Stefano shook his head. “They had a little girl. She died of cancer when she was three.”
    Francesca stopped right there in the middle of the sidewalk, her free hand covering her mouth. She looked as if she might cry. “Those poor people. To lose both children like that. I can’t imagine anything worse.”
    He nodded, pulling her a little closer to him, keeping herunder his shoulder. “They’re both very brave. Sometimes tragedy tears people apart, but they seemed to grow stronger together.” He started them moving again. The entrance to the pizza parlor was only a few feet away.
    â€œThey’re actually my favorite customers,” she admitted. “Not that I’ve met all that many people yet, although the store is very busy all the time. Was the murderer ever caught?”
    He glanced at her sharply. There was something in her voice that caught at him. She was looking at the ground, not at him and not trying to see where they were going. She sounded skeptical, as if she didn’t believe Cencio’s killer would ever be brought to justice. She also sounded very, very sad. That tore him up inside. He didn’t want her ever to be sad.
    He reached around her to open the door of the pizza parlor, automatically stepping back to allow her to precede him. At the last moment, he pulled her out of harm’s way, and then pushed her behind him as a little boy with dark wavy hair barreled right into him with full force. His body rocked back, but he caught the child in his arms, preventing the boy from falling. He heard Francesca’s breath catch in her throat as if she feared for the child.
    He set the boy back on his feet and ruffled his hair. “Tonio, are you chasing after Signora Moretti again?”
    The boy nodded, holding up a pink handbag.
    â€œGood man. Get to it then, but don’t run into the street. Come by my table when you get back.”
    Tonio grinned at him and took off running. Stefano held the door open for Francesca and waved her inside.
    â€œHe’s a good boy, that one,” he observed. “Signora Moretti will eventually come into the deli. She’ll give you a very hard time. She’ll insist on watching you make her sandwich and everything you do will be wrong because she’ll change it as she goes along.” There was humor in his voice. Affection. He couldn’t help it. “Agnese Moretti is a holy terror. Never call her anything but Signora Moretti or you’ll get your ears boxed.” He rubbed his right ear, remembering the woman clobbering him when he’d called her by her first name.
    â€œShe
hit
you?” Francesca’s blue eyes went wide with shock—and humor.
    â€œSignore Ferraro, we have your table,” the girl at the desk said, menus in her hand. She sounded breathless, gazing up at him with a dazed, flirty look.
    He smiled at her. “
Grazie
, Berta.” He put his hand on Francesca’s lower back to guide her. To make certain everyone in the restaurant knew just who she belonged to. “How are your parents?” He had to acknowledge Berta before she tripped over her