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And where was the dratted man anyway?

Pia met Raphael’s four sisters and their husbands, scores of his nieces and nephews—they were a fertile bunch, apparently—a host of his cousins and their spouses, two aunts, one uncle and finally his mother Portia Mastrantino

That same distrust she’d seen in Raphael’s eyes showed in his mother’s eyes

Noting the white shorts and skirts paired with spaghetti tops and the hulad that she’d dressed in a plain cotton navy blue top and printed shorts with her favorite Toes, whatever Raphael’s imperious command

After , Pia sneaked into the house, needing quiet

Sitting on a chaise longue in cargo shorts and a navy blue T-shirt that exposed corded arms and hair-sprinkled wrists, Raphael looked utterly different and yet just as ht His olive skin looked darker, his shoulders broader with the fabric stretched over his lean chest

He was bouncing the irl on his knee

The little girl screarip on her while she slid down his long legs to the floor Every tiht her at the last second, she squealed, shuddered, scampered over to his knee, climbed over his chest and wrapped chubby arms around his neck and slobbered a wet kiss over his cheek

Again and again, he pretended to lose her, she did it all over, planting another wet kiss over his other cheek His dark eyes roared with laughter, love, eagerly awaiting the moment when she would kiss him

A pulse of longing reverberated through Pia at the sight Such cynicisirl, such affection

Was she a niece? A cousin’s daughter?

Suddenly, the little girl hiccuped Her chubby face scrunched tight Holding her as if she were the lass of water Three dark-haired voluptuous woner clothes—thanks to Gio, Pia now had a useless font of information about couture

The wo To his credit, Raphael had eyes only for the little girl He didn’t notice the adoring glances or how each woman found a way to sidle closer to him or touch him in some way