Italian Boss, Ruthless Revenge Read online

‘So am I…’He rained her face with butterfly kisses, and she rained them back, kissing away all the hurt and the grief, chasing away all the horrible, scary shadows till there was only light left. ‘I’m here, where I belong.’

  EPILOGUE

  ‘DO YOU want me to say something?’ Caitlyn offered as Lazzaro called for the bill.

  ‘The food was fantastic,’ Lazzaro said. ‘Let’s not make a fuss.’

  ‘But every time we come here they get it wrong! I specifically ordered the mushroom risotto, and we got vegetarian arranchini.’

  Lazzaro peeled off another note and added it to his already generous tip. They were sitting in one of the smartest cafés in Rome, and the waiter had in fact done an amazing job—deciphering somehow, from Caitlyn’s truly appalling Italian, that they wanted rice and vegetables.

  It was bad.

  Even after a year of flying between two amazing cities—even after having a son who had been born here in Rome—Caitlyn’s mastery of the language was poor, to say the least. But her Italian was delivered with such flair, such passion and enthusiasm, and such a warm, generous smile, that no one—not the doctors, nor the midwives, nor the hotel staff or even a waiter—had the heart to tell her.

  ‘Che era meraviglioso—grazie.’ Caitlyn beamed at the bemused waiter as she clipped little Dante into his pram and wheeled him out of the restaurant.

  ‘That was wonderful—thank you…’ Lazzaro loosely translated, rolling his eyes and mouthing another thank-you to the waiter, then joining his wife and new son on the street outside.

  ‘You’d think they’d never seen a blond baby.’ Caitlyn smiled as everyone who passed cooed into the stroller. ‘Mind you—he is gorgeous.’

  And the image of Caitlyn.

  Blond, already lifting his head and taking in the world, smiling and cooing at six weeks and refusing to sleep, he was a carbon copy of his mother—and Lazzaro, just as he was with his wife, was completely smitten.

  ‘Right—time to look for a gift. I still don’t get why some people don’t have a bridal registry,’ Lazzaro said as they wandered the streets.

  ‘We didn’t…’ Caitlyn pointed out.

  ‘Because you refused to—and just look at the pile of rubbish we ended up with.’ Lazzaro stared moodily into a gallery. ‘She’s been married already—she got everything she wanted the first time around…’

  ‘And she got everything she wanted in the divorce.’ Caitlyn giggled. ‘How about that?’ she asked, pointing to a painting in the window of the modern art gallery.

  ‘It could have been done by a five-year-old—in fact, give Dante a brush and he could do better.’

  ‘It’s divine,’ Caitlyn breathed.

  ‘It’s three circles within a circle.’

  ‘Antonia, Marianna and baby Luca, and circling them, looking out for them, is Dario.’

  ‘I still think the wedding should be at Ranaldi’s.’ Lazzaro was still staring at the picture and trying to see what she saw—trying to work out Caitlyn’s impossible, crazy take on the world, trying to take in that Antonia was marrying his friend Alberto’s son. ‘I would have done it better.’

  ‘Probably.’ Caitlyn shrugged. ‘But I’d never have seen you—you’d have spent the night marching around the kitchen insisting everything was “the best”. This way, you get to enjoy yourself…’ She was suddenly serious. ‘Anyway, Alberto is enjoying organising it—it’s good to see him happy after the year he’s had.’

  ‘I know,’ Lazzaro conceded.

  ‘And talking of weddings…’A mischievous smile was on her lips, but two circles of red were burning on her cheeks as she broached a terribly taboo subject. ‘Can you believe Roxanne and Malvolio sent us an invitation to theirs? Can you believe they actually invited us?’

  They were inside the gallery now. Lazzaro was ignoring the owner’s effusive attempts to discuss the delightful piece they were buying—instead handing over his credit card and giving the details as to where it should be sent.

  ‘They deserve each other!’ Lazzaro hissed as they stepped outside.

  ‘Well, they’ve got each other.’ Caitlyn laughed. ‘Thanks in small part to me. Did I tell you I hexed her?’

  ‘Hexed her?’ Lazzaro frowned—he was pushing the stroller now, guiding it down the bumpy steps as Caitlyn clipped alongside, and this time he wasn’t pretending not to understand—he honestly didn’t.

  ‘I wrapped her name around a piece of garlic and stuck it in the freezer—she’s getting her just deserts!’

  ‘You’re telling me that you put a spell on her?’

  ‘Just a little one.’ Caitlyn pouted. ‘Wishes do come true, you know.’

  ‘Then make one.’

  They were back at the Trevi Fountain and Lazzaro was rummaging in his pocket for loose change. Only Caitlyn didn’t need to waste a wish—didn’t need to wish on a coin or a star, or cut up pictures—because she knew without wishing that they’d be back for more, knew without question that they were in this for ever.

  ‘Go on,’ Lazzaro prompted, holding out a coin, but Caitlyn shook her head.

  ‘I’ve got all my wishes—how about you?’

  ‘Just one…’ He tossed the coin into the fountain, then pulled her towards him as only Lazzaro could. ‘A girl.’

  ‘A girl?’

  ‘Or a boy.’ Lazzaro shrugged. ‘I want another mini-you.’

  ‘It might be a mini-you this time.’

  ‘I don’t care.’ Lazzaro laughed, as he did often these days. ‘Let’s just go and make another baby.’

  ISBN: 978-1-4268-2158-5

  ITALIAN BOSS, RUTHLESS REVENGE

  First North American Publication 2008.

  Copyright © 2008 by Carol Marinelli.

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  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events or locales is entirely coincidental.

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