Cindy stood just behind them chatting to Valentino. Everyone looked relaxed, except for Freya.
The sooner he got them away from here the better, Enrico decided as the fixed smile he was wearing began to make his jaw ache.
He scanned the wedding party, looking for Fredo to give him the nod to come and collect Nicolo, but a flash of red from across the street suddenly caught his eye.
The bastard, he thought as he recognised the hair colour. Luca just could not resist it. Despite everything they’d agreed, Luca could not let this moment pass without trying to cause trouble.
Bending down, Enrico scooped Nicolo onto his arm then clamped the other round Freya’s waist and hurried them down the steps and hustled them into the waiting car.
With a curt command the car shot off from the kerb before Enrico had even secured Nicolo as best as he could, as his son’s safety seat wasn’t installed. He waited for Freya to say something about that but she didn’t. In fact, they did not speak at all on the short journey to the country club he’d commandeered to house his family for the weekend. Nicky did all the talking. They answered him in turn.
The moment they stepped into the country-club foyer Enrico said tautly, ‘Freya…’
‘I saw her,’ she responded and walked off, following signs that showed the way to the ladies’ room.
Nicolo ran off then. By the time Enrico had gone after him and prevented the toddler from causing mayhem, their guests were arriving, so all he could do was to stand there and crack stupid jokes about his missing bride.
Pale but composed, Freya reappeared beside him. Enrico grabbed and grimly held on to her hand.
Freya got through the welcoming ceremony. She even got through the wedding breakfast without falling apart. But her eyes could not stop hunting for a glimpse of the redhead, or worse—the darker head of Luca himself.
Then it happened. Everyone was circulating nicely. She’d seen that Cindy was with a group of work colleagues, Fredo and Sonny were talking to a group of Ranieris. Enrico was standing a couple of feet away from her, listening intently to something one of his uncles was saying to him, and she noticed Lissa blushingly flirting with a Ranieri nephew or cousin by the open French windows that led out into the club’s grounds.
But no Nicky.
Her heart froze for a moment as an alarm bell went off inside her head. It was her chilling sixth sense that took her towards her son’s nanny. It took only a distracted glance beyond the French windows to send her blood running colder still.
Enrico turned to look for Freya just as it happened—one small step, then another, and she was off and running, crashing past Lissa and out through the open doors.
A curse left his throat as he took off after her. There was only one thing that would send her running like that and it was their son!
Freya hit the terrace like a sprinter, losing her shoes on the way down the steps that led onto a wide spread of lawn, which connected the country club to a golf course.
Out there in front of her, she could see Luca squatting down at Nicky’s level. The little boy was reaching out to take back the small football Lissa had brought along with them to stop him from becoming bored.
Freya’s veil went next, finest lace tearing from her hair and floating away on the wind.
Enrico saw her discarded shoes as he leapt down the steps. Something like a light bulb lit up inside his head then shattered into hot fragments when he caught sight of what had made her run.
‘The crazy idiot,’ he muttered. ‘Freya—stop, for Dio’s sake!’
But Freya was stopping for no one. All she could see was that Luca was going to get his own back by kidnapping her son!
The man looked round for a short second before she reached him and she caught a blurred glimpse of his dark eyes widening just before she threw herself on him, knocking him off balance so the two of them went sprawling on the ground.
Nicky started laughing. He thought it was hilarious. Enrico ripped out another thick curse as he bent down to pluck up his wife.
His crazy wife!
‘Stop it,’ he hissed out when she began fighting him as well. Then, more gently, he cajoled, ‘Cara, this is Valentino. You just tackled Valentino…’
Freya stopped fighting Enrico to look at him through bright, fear-blinded eyes. Her breathing was haywire, her green eyes wild. Enrico wanted to kiss her. He wanted to do it so badly he almost gave in to the urge.
Nothing was making sense to Freya any longer. She felt as if she’d been turned inside out and upside down. Nicky was still laughing and now he had jumped on top of his new uncle. Valentino was letting him do it while he just lay there staring up at her.
Reality began to sink in. ‘Y-you aren’t Luca,’ she heard herself whisper.
‘Dio. I hope not,’ said Valentino. ‘Did you think that I was?’