Chapter 1
CHAPTER 1
Mateo Lanzo was in the prime of his life.
He was rich, powerful and ruggedly good looking as a man could hope to be. He worked hard, played hard and on those rare nights he went to bed alone, he slept soundly until morning.
But not tonight.
Tonight, he was dreaming.
In his dream he walked slowly along a narrow road. It led to house. He could hardly see it because of the heavy mist that hung over everything, but it was there.
His footstep slowed.
It was the last place on earth he wanted to be. A house in the suburbs. A station wagon in the driveway. A dog. A cat. A child.
And a wife. One woman, the same woman forever…
Mateo sprang up in bed, gasping for air. A shudder racked hid big, leanly muscled body. He slept naked, kept the window open even now, in early autumn. Still, his skin was slick with sweat.
A dream. That’s all it was. A nightmare.
The oyster last night, maybe. Or that brandy right before bedtime. Or… he shuddered again. Or just anotherresurfacing of that long-ago memory of what had happened when he was just eighteen, stupid and in love.
In what he’d thought was love,
He’d gone steady with Mia Lockwood for three months before he’d so much as touched her. When he finally did, one touch led to another and another and another...
Christmas Eve, he’d given her a gold locket.
She’d given him news that almost brought him to knees.
“I’m pregnant, Mateo.” she’d whispered tearfully.
He’d been stunned. He was a kid, yeah, hut he’d said known enough to use condoms. But he loved her. And she’d wept in his arms and said he’d ruined her life, that he had to marry her.
He would have.
He would have Done The Right Thing.
But fate, luck, whatever you wanted to call it, intervened. His brothers noticed how withdrawn he’d become. They sat him down, saw to it that he had enough beer to loosen him up a little and then Nicholas asked him, point blank, what was going on.
Manteo told them about his girl.
And the three of themAlejandro, Leonardo, Antonio, looked at each other, looked at him and said, was he out of his freaking mind? If he’d used protection, how could she have gotten knocked up?
She had to be lying.
He went after Antonio because he’d said it first. When Leonardo and Alejandro repeated it, he went after them too.Antonio grabbed him in an arm lock.
“I love her, dammit.” Dante said. “You hear me? I love her and she loves me”.
“She loves your money, dude.” Alejandro had said, and for the first time in days Mateo had laughed.
“What money?”
Antonio let go if him. AndLeonardo pointed out that the girl didn’t know he wasn’t loaded. That even way back then, all four Lanzo brothers had thumbed their noses at their old man’s money and power and everything that went with it.
“Ask around,” Antonio, the oldest of them, said bluntly.
‘’Find out how many other guys she’s been with.’’
Mateo lunged for him again. Alejandro and Leonardo held him back.
“Use your head.” Alejandro snapped, ‘’not that divining rod in your pants.’’
Leonardo nodded in agreement. ‘’ And tell her you want a paternity test.’’
’“She wouldn’t lie to me,’’ Mateo protested. ‘’She loves me.’’
“Tell her you want the damned test,’’ Leonardo growled. ‘’Or we’ll tell her for you.’’
He knew Leonardo meant it. So, with a dozen apologies, he’d suggested the test. Teresa’s tears had given way to fury. She’d called him every name in the book and he’d never heard from her again. Yeah, she’d broken his heart but she’d also taught him a lesson that still came back to haunt him when he least expected it.
Like that ridiculous dream.
Mateo took a couple of deep breaths, sank back against the pillows and folded his arms behind his head.
Marriage? A wife? Kids? No way. After years of trying to decide what to do with his life, of coming close to losing it a couple of times in place no sane man should have been, he’d finally sorted things out. Now he had everything a man could possibly want. This penthouse, with the morning sun pouring through the skylight above his bed.
A cherry-red Ferrari. A private jet.
And women.
A wicked grin lit his hard, handsome face.
More women, sometimes, thana guy could handle and all of them beautiful, sexy and not foolish enough to think they could con him into anything more permanent than a relationship, and, God, he hated that word.
He was between women right now.
Taking a breather. Antonio had said wryly. True. And enjoying every minute of it. Like that blonde at that charity thing last week. He’d gone to what should have been dull cocktail party. Save the City, Save the World, Save the Squirrels, who knew what? Lanzo Brothers Investment had bought four tickets, but only one of the brothers had to show his face.
And Leonardo had so elegantly put it, it was Mateo’s turn in the barrel.
So he’d showered and changed in his private bathroom at the office., taxied to the Waldorf figuring on a few polite handshakes and a glass of not-very-good wine, and the wine was never very good at these things even if it cost five thousand bucks to buy a ticket.
And felt someone watching him.
It was the blonde, and she was spectacular. Long legs. Lots of shiny hair. A slow, sexy smile and enough cleavage to get lost in.
He’d made his way through the crowd, introduced himself. A few minute of conversation and the lady got to the point.
‘’It’s so noisy here,’’ she’d purred and he’d said, yeah, it was and why didn’t he take her somewhere quiet, where they could talk?
But what happened in the taxi the doorman hailed had nothing to do with the talk. Claire or Claris or whatever her name was had been all over him. By the time they got to her house, they were both so hot they’d barely made it through the door….
Mateo threw back the blankets, rose from the bed and made his way to the bathroom. He had her handphone number but he he wouldn’t use it tonight. Tonight he had a date with a. cute redheaded he’d met last week. As for that dream….
Ridiculous.
All that had happened almost fifteen years ago. He knew now he’d never loved the girl he claimed he’d made her pregnant, through he did owe her a thank-you for teaching him an important life lesson,
When you took a women to bed, it was your trousers you left on the floor, not your brain.
Mateo tilted his head back, closed his pale-blue eyes, let the water sluice the shampoo from his dark as midnight hair.
No woman, no matter how beautiful, was worth any deeper involvement than that took black between the sheets.
Without warning a memory shot onto his head. A women. Eyes the colour of rich coffee. Hair so many shades of gold the sun seemed trapped there. A soft, rosy mouth that tasted of honey…
Scowling, he shot out his hand, turned off the water and reached for a towel. What the hell was the matter with him this morning? First the insane dream. Now this.
Lucia Amaya – amazing howhecould remember her name and not the women he’d been with last night, especially since it was a year since he’d seen Lucia.
One year and three months. And yeah, thirteen days…..
Mateo snorted.
That was what came of having a things for numbers, he thought as he dumped the towel on the marble vanity. It made him good at what he did at Lanzo’s but it also made the damnedest nonsense stick in his head.
He dressed quickly in a beat-up New York University T-shirt, the sleeves long since torn, and a pair of equally disreputable NYU gyn shorts, and went down the circular staircase to the lower level of his penthouse, hurrying past the big, high-ceilinged rooms until he reached his gym. It wasn’t an elaborate set up. He had only a Nautilus, some free weights, an old treadmill. He only used the stuff when the weather was bad enough to keep him from running in Central Park, but this morning, despite the sunshine, he knew he needed more than five-mile run if he was going to sweat a couple of old ghost out his system. It was a Saturday, he could afford the extra time.
When was done, he spent a couple of hours online looking at auction sites that dealt in vintage Ferraris, checking to see if there was anything out there that came close to the Ferrari 250GT He been searching for. There’d been word one had been coming on the market about a year ago in Gstaad, he’d thought about flying over to check it out, but something…. He couldn’t recall what…….. had come up just then…..
His hand stilled on the keyboard.
Lucia Amaya. That was what had come up. He’d met her and everything else had flown straight out of his head.
“Dammit”, Mateo said tightly. That was twice today he’d thought about the woman, and it made no sense. She was history.
Okay. Enough sitting around. He closed his computer, changed into another pair of shorts and T-shirt and went out for a run.
Getting all those endorphins pumping did it. He came home feeling good and felt even better when Leonardo phoned to say he’d just put away French bank deal they’d been after. He’d already called Antonio and Alejandro. How about meeting for a couple of drinks to celebrate at their favourite hangout. The bar down in Chelsea?
By the time the brothers parted, it was so hard to remember the day had started badly, but his good mood evaporated when his mother called. Mateo loved her with all his heart and even her unusual question – was he keeping good hours?
Was he eating properly? Had he found a nice Italian girl to bring to dinner? – even those things couldn’t dim his pleasure at hearing her voice.
The message she delivered from his father did.
“Mateo, Papa wishes you and Leonardo to come for breakfast tomorrow”.
He knew what that meant. His father was in a strange mood lately, talking about of age and death as if the grim reaper was knocking on the door. This would be another endless litany about attorney and accountants and bank vaults… as if his sons would touch a dollar of his after he was gone.
His mother knew how he felt. How all her sons felt only she and their sisters. Anita and Annetta persisted in believing the fiction that the old man was a legitimate businessman instead of a thedonhe was.
“Mateo? Sofia tone lightened. “I will make you that pesto frittata,si?”
Mateo rolled his eyes. He despised the sight, the smell, the taste of pesto but how could a man ever say such a thing to his mother without hurting her feelings? Which, he thought grimly, was exactly why Cesare Sent these invitations through his wife.
