Total pages in book: 137
Estimated words: 126060 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 630(@200wpm)___ 504(@250wpm)___ 420(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 126060 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 630(@200wpm)___ 504(@250wpm)___ 420(@300wpm)
Don’t you think it’s significant that Nicoletta, you, me and Elie are here in this room? All of us could have been, or are, a part of the program the council has in place to police the Archambault riders. Are your cousins as fast as you? What about your brothers?
Everyone had looked up the moment they entered the room. A hushed silence had fallen. Ordinarily that would have bothered her, but she was trying to figure the significance of what had just occurred to her. There were several riders in the room who were blindingly fast in the shadows. After them, there were those that might be even faster. What did that mean? Because it couldn’t be a coincidence that there were so many Archambaults migrating to the Ferraro family. Jean-Claude knew it and wanted to put a stop to it. Or did he? He knew the connection to his family through their grandmother. It might be a couple of times removed, but she was still an Archambault.
Geno knew immediately what she was thinking. His gaze followed hers to the two men lounging against the wall with the bodyguards. Salvatore and Lucca Ferraro.
Geno’s brothers were very much like him—only he was right in saying they fit the Ferraro image of sophistication. They were tall and handsome and very fit-looking. She expected Geno to be upset that they had come against his express orders, but instead, there was instant softness, affection in his mind, although, looking up at him, there was no change in his expression. Along with that affection and yes, real love, there was alarm. Geno had become very alert to any possible danger. He scanned the room again, this time much more meticulously. She found herself doing the same.
“I see the two of you have no idea what staying put means,” Geno greeted his brothers.
Both Lucca and Salvatore separated themselves from the bodyguards and sauntered across the room, their boots never making the slightest whisper of sound on the gray-and-black stonework. Their gazes moved over Amaranthe, taking in every detail of her appearance. They were every bit as sharp as Geno, she decided.
“Little sister,” Salvatore greeted. He had a mesmerizing quality to his voice. “You must not be quite sane to let Geno put a ring on your finger and trap your shadow.”
Amaranthe bared her teeth at him. “He’s the one with the bad judgment. Ask anyone who knows me.”
Lucca laughed. “You’re like a fierce little terrier about to launch an attack on a tiger.”
“That’s what I prefer all my enemies to think.”
“You’re a dancer in the ballet,” Salvatore pointed out. “I suppose you could attack with your ballet slipper.”
“I suppose I could continue allowing you to make a fool of yourself,” Geno said, his eyes darkening to black obsidian.
“We’re just teasing the little ballerina,” Lucca pointed out.
“Go sit down before I teach you some manners. You’re sadly lacking,” Geno instructed.
“We are just teasing her,” Lucca repeated. “Welcome to the famiglia. We’re happy Geno found you.” He stepped closer, and Geno intercepted him.
“What do you think you’re doing?”
“I was going to hug her. I think that’s tradition in families, Geno.”
“I don’t think it is in our family, Lucca. Especially when you were supposed to be lying low.”
Lucca’s eyes went flat and cold. “You set yourself up, Geno. And it looks as if you’re setting up your fiancée as well. That’s unacceptable. If she’s your choice and is going to be our sister, we have every right to guard your backs. You don’t get to take that away from us.” There was a distinct edge to his voice.
Amaranthe thought he sounded very much like his older brother. Not only sounded like him, but when he turned abruptly and stalked to the main table, he looked every inch like Geno Ferraro. Amaranthe liked him a lot.
Geno narrowed his eyes at Salvatore. “I suppose you have something to say.”
“Nope, I think Lucca covered it. In case you aren’t paying attention, big brother, feel the air. You’ve succeeded in drawing out the enemy.” He winked at Amaranthe and followed Lucca to the table.
So Geno wasn’t the only Ferraro who had a sixth sense when it came to feeling danger.
Geno swore under his breath. “Things just got complicated.”
“Maybe not. Maybe they got easier,” she soothed him. “You won’t have to worry about them so much. You were, you know. I could feel it.” She looked up at him.
He stopped halfway to the table, his dark eyes moving over her face. “Danzatrice Ombra, I’m not certain you knowing what I’m feeling is always going to be a good thing.”
She laughed. “I think it’s a very good thing.” She tugged on his hand. “I don’t think your brothers believe we’re really engaged. They seem to think you wouldn’t tie yourself to a ballerina. I’m going to enjoy this dinner immensely, and I think you are, too. You just need to find your sense of humor.”