The Italian Duke's Virgin Mistress. Penny Jordan

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yes, there was. Either Randall had returned from the grave or something was terribly wrong. Noah had no father, and she had no fiancé.

      There was a knock at the door. One soft rap before it opened. The jeans, the black leather jacket. The boots.

      Lucky Bacelli.

      Not Randall.

      “Where’s Noah?” she demanded.

      Lucky ignored her question and strolled closer. “You gave me quite a scare, you know that? I’m glad you’re finally awake.” And with that totally irrelevant observation, he smiled. A secretive little smile that only he and Mona Lisa could have pulled off.

      “I want to see Noah,” Marin snapped. “And I want to see him now.”

      Another smile caused a dimple to wink in his left cheek. He reached out, touched her right arm and rubbed softly. A gesture no doubt meant to soothe her. It didn’t work. For one thing, it was too intimate. Boy, was it. For another, nothing would soothe her except for holding her son and making sure he was okay.

      “The doctor wants to examine you before he allows any other visitors so Noah’s waiting at the nurses’ station,” Lucky explained, his voice a slow, easy drawl. The sound and ease of Texas practically danced off the words. “And I’m sure they’re spoiling him rotten.”

      Marin disregarded the last half of his comment. Her son was at the nurses’ station. That’s all she needed to know. She ducked around Lucky and headed toward the door. Marin had no idea where the nurses’ station was, but she’d find it.

      Lucky stepped in front of her, blocking her path. “Where are you going, darling?”

      That stopped her in her tracks.

       Darling?

      He said it as if he had a right to.

      That was well past being intimate. Then he slid his arm around her waist and leaned in close. Too close. It violated her personal space and then some. Marin slapped her palm on his chest to stop him from violating it further.

      “Is there a problem?” Nurse Garcia asked.

      “You bet there is,” Marin informed her.

      And she would have voiced exactly what that problem was if she’d had the chance.

      She hadn’t.

      Because in that same moment, Lucky Bacelli curved his hand around her waist and gently pulled her closer to him. He put his mouth right against her ear. “This was the only way,” he whispered.

      Marin tried to move away, but he held on. “The only way for what?” she demanded.

      “To keep you and Noah safe.” He kept his voice low, practically a murmur.

      Even with the pain and fog in her head and his barely audible voice, she understood what he meant. Lucky had needed to protect Noah from her parents, just as she’d asked him to do. He’d pretended to be Randall Davidson, a dead man. Marin couldn’t remember how Lucky had known Randall’s name. Had she mentioned it? She must have. Thankfully, her parents had never met Randall and knew almost nothing about him. They certainly didn’t know he was dead. She’d kept that from them because if she’d explained his death, she would have also had to endure countless questions about their life together.

      Marin stopped struggling to get away from him and wearily dropped her head on his shoulder. He’d lied, but he’d done it all for Noah’s sake. “My parents tried to take him?”

      Lucky nodded. “They tried and failed. But I’m pretty sure they’ll be back soon for round two.”

      That wasn’t a surprise. With her in a hospital bed, her parents had probably thought they could take over her life before she even regained consciousness. It’d been a miracle that Lucky had been able to stop them, and if he’d had to do that with lies, then it was a small price to pay for her to be able to keep her son from them.

      “Thank you,” Marin mouthed.

      “Don’t thank me.” Lucky moved back enough to allow their gazes to connect. The gray in his eyes turned stormy. “I don’t think that train accident was really an accident,” he whispered.

      Stunned, Marin shookher head. “What do you mean?”

      It seemed as if he changed his mind a dozen times about what to say. “Marin, Noah and you were nearly killed because of me.”

       Chapter Four

      Lucky braced himself for the worst. A slap to the face. A shouted accusation. But Marin just stepped back and stared at him.

      “What did you say?” she asked. Lucky wasn’t sure how she managed to speak. The air swooshed out of her body, and the muscles in her jaw turned to steel.

      Lucky didn’t repeat his bombshell. Nor did he explain. He glanced over at the nurse. “Could you please give me a few minutes alone with my fiancée?”

      Nurse Garcia nodded. “But only if Ms. Sheppard gets back in bed.”

      “Of course.” Lucky caught on to Marin to lead her in that direction, but he encountered some resistance. Their eyes met, and in the depth of all that blue and green, he saw the debate going on. He also saw the moment she surrendered.

      He knew she expected her cooperation to get her some fast answers. Unfortunately, Lucky didn’t have any answers that she was going to like.

      “You have five minutes. I don’t want Ms. Sheppard getting too tired,” the nurse informed them. “I’ll see if I can figure out a way to get Noah in here so you can have a quick kiss and cuddle.”

      “Thank you,” Marin told the woman without taking her gaze from Lucky. She didn’t say another word until the nurse was out of the room.

      “Start talking,” Marin insisted, her voice low and laced with a warning. “What do you mean you’re responsible for nearly getting us killed? The nurse said it was an accident. Caused by an electrical malfunction.”

      That warning was the only thing lethal looking about her. She was pale and trembling. Lucky got her moving toward the bed. He also gave her gown an adjustment so that it actually covered her bare backside. Then, he got on with his explanation.

      “The police first believed the explosion was caused by something electrical,” Lucky explained. “But there are significant rumblings that when the Texas Rangers came in, they found an incendiary device.”

      But that was more than just rumblings. The sheriff had confirmed it.

      Which brought him back to Marin’s question.

      “I’m a PI. And a former cop,” he told her. With just those few crumbs of info, he had to pause and figure out how to say the rest. Best not to give Marin too much too soon. She was still weak. But he owed her at least part of the truth. “I’ve been working on a case that involves some criminals in hiding.”

      Well, one criminal in particular.

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