Free Best Laid Plans by Billy London Page A

lever and the back fell, allowing Francesca to be draped on top of him. His hand wandered beneath her dress, stroking soft thigh and edging toward her pussy once more.
    She caught his wrist. “Not in a car, not in a car! And definitely not outside my house.”
    He pulled back a little, to see how serious she was. “Will you come to me tomorrow?”
    “Yes, yes! All right! Just stop being naughty!”
    A grin stretched his lips. “Nice doing business with you.”
    She gave him one last kiss before she scrambled from his body. “I’ll let you know when I’m on my way.”
    He caught her hand and brushed his lips over her knuckles. “Goodnight, Francesca.”
    “Goodnight, Gianluca.”
    He righted the seat and waited until she was a step inside the front door. She turned and waved to him, and he lifted a hand in response. Luca had to wonder if he was being watched, because the moment his beautiful Francesca closed the door to her home, his mobile rang. Her scent still lingering in the interior of the car, he calmly put the call on speaker and eased the vehicle back into traffic heading for Putney. A glance at the number told him it was a call from Italy. Shit. It couldn’t possibly be good news.
    “Yes?”
    “Gianluca?”
    His knuckles whitened on the steering wheel. It was his mother. “Yes, Mother?”
    “It’s your father. He’s, um, he’s very sick. We need help, I can’t cope with just. How much. Work it is to look after him.”
    He knew where this was going, and he had no intention of going back home to take care of a man who resented his existence—tears of the wife or not. Alfieri Caristo was a man embittered by the successes of everyone around him, having neither the intelligence nor the talent to make his own way in the world. Luca was the sum of all that was wrong with the Caristo family because he was the one who had turned away from the correct, law enforcement path. Luca made it worse by looking more like Tony’s brother than Alfieri’s son. Not that his mother, Edrige, was any better: she distanced herself from any mutiny on Luca’s part to keep herself from being engulfed by Alfieri’s temper.
    “Get a nurse. A live-in carer.”
    “We can’t afford that!”
    That wasn’t true. Not even nearly. “You can, I’ve been sending you money. Every month.”
    Edrige paused. “We used it to get your sister and her husband a house. Your father didn’t feel right keeping it. Can you come home? Help us find someone? We’re probably going to need someone to live in, and... It’s going to cost so much money.”
    Fuck’s sake. “I’ll send the money to you.”
    Edrige played her best card. “Gianluca, you need to come home. You don’t know what your actions have cost us. The least, the very least you can do is come home and help us. You broke your father’s heart when you took up with your cousin and his horrible friends. And what you did to Dafne made us sick, it made him sick.”
    “Then how will it help you if I go back?” he asked, injecting patience into his voice. It was a story he’d heard a million times before. None of it made a difference. And it absolutely should not taint his time with his sweetheart.
    “At least he’ll know you’re sorry.”
    “He won’t care,” Luca replied. “He’ll go to his grave believing the worst of me. Whether I’m there in person, or if I send money instead, won’t make any difference.”
    “Are you that cold hearted? Whatever he’s said to you, he brought you up. He clothed you and fed you. He had a stroke. He nearly died.”
    Luca wondered if it made him evil that the knowledge relieved him rather than upset him. “And the only reason I’m being told now is to pay his way to recover?”
    Edrige was quiet for a long time. Her voice broke when she spoke again. “Do one decent thing for this family. Come home and help. It’s about more than just money, I promise you.”
    “I’ll call you back,” he said shortly. “End call.” The phone