Italian Mountain Man (A Man Who Knows What He Wants Book 93)

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by Flora Ferrari




  ITALIAN MOUNTAIN MAN

  AN OLDER MAN YOUNGER WOMAN ROMANCE

  _______________________

  A MAN WHO KNOWS WHAT HE WANTS, 93

  FLORA FERRARI

  CONTENTS

  Copyright

  A Man Who Knows What He Wants Series

  Italian Mountain Man

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Epilogue

  Extended Epilogue

  Series

  Newsletter

  COPYRIGHT

  Copyright © 2018 by Flora Ferrari.

  All Rights Reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

  The following story contains mature themes, strong language and sexual situations. It is intended for mature readers.

  A MAN WHO KNOWS WHAT HE WANTS

  Book 1: Baby Lust

  Book 2: Veteran

  Book 3: Built

  Book 4: Bambino

  Book 5: Rescued

  Book 6: Leader

  Book 7: Professor

  Book 8: Burned

  Book 9: Worldly

  Book 10: Pistol

  Book 11: Policed

  Book 12: Driven

  Book 13: Lucky 13

  Book 14: Lumberjacked

  Book 15: Protector

  Book 16: Carpenter

  Book 17: Italian Stallion

  Book 18: Gardener

  Book 19: Budapest Billionaire’s Virgin

  Book 20: Billionaire’s Babysitter

  Book 21: Cocky CFO

  Book 22: Fireman’s Filthy 4th

  Book 23: Mechanic

  Book 24: SEAL’s Secret

  Book 25: Police, Pooch, and Smooch

  Book 26: Fireman’s Fake Fiancée

  Book 27: Billionaire’s Virgin Ballerina

  Book 28: Bitcoin Billionaire’s Babysitter

  Book 29: Veterans Day Daddy

  Book 30: Cowboy’s Christmas Carol

  Book 31: Police Officer’s Princess

  Book 32: Statham

  Book 33: Bodyguard

  Book 34: Greek God

  Book 35: Billionaire Single Dad's Babysitter

  Book 36: Mountain Man

  Book 37: SEAL’s Justice

  Book 38: Royal Romance

  Book 39: Doctor Mountain Man’s Special Delivery

  Book 40: Crocodile Dan D

  Book 41: Mountain Man’s Secret Baby

  Book 42: Doctor Bad Boy’s Secret Baby

  Book 43: Cop’s Babysitter

  Book 44: Nanny for the Cop Next Door

  Book 45: Small Town SEAL’s Saving Grace

  Book 46: Cop’s Fake Fiancée

  Book 47: Billionaire’s Nanny

  Book 48: Cowboy’s Babysitter

  Book 49: Steamy

  Book 50: Brother’s Best Friend

  Book 51: Possessive Professor

  Book 52: Firefighter’s Babysitter

  Book 53: Soldier’s Secret Baby

  Book 54: Ward’s Independence Day

  Book 55: Doctor Next Door

  Book 56: Possessive Policeman

  Book 57: Coached by the MMA Fighter

  Book 58: Boss’s Babysitter

  Book 59: Virgin in New York

  Book 60: Rock Star’s Baby

  Book 61: Possessive Protector

  Book 62: Possessive Australian

  Book 63: Best Friend’s Brother

  Book 64: Possessive Cowboy

  Book 65: Summer Romanced

  Book 66: Possessive Prince

  Book 67: Lovers’s Enemy

  Book 68: Cop’s Best Friend

  Book 69: Possessive Firefighter

  Book 70: Football Next Door

  Book 71: Doctor December

  Book 72: Possessive Canadian

  Book 73: Blue Collar Billionaire

  Book 74: Possessive K-9 Cop

  Book 75: Possessive Brazilian

  Book 76: Hockey Obsession

  Book 77: Possessive Boston Irish American MMA Fighter

  Book 78: Halloween Next Door

  Book 79: Possessive Russian

  Book 80: Baseball Mine

  Book 81: Cop’s Caribbean Captive

  Book 82: Instalove Island

  Book 83: Dad’s Best Friend

  Book 84: Thanksgiving with Dad’s Boss

  Book 85: Possessive Italian Neighbor

  Book 86: Possessive Portuguese

  Book 87: Possessive Christmas Cop

  Book 88: Russian’s Obsession

  Book 89: Possessive Doctor’s Christmas

  Book 90: Possessive Parisian Pilot

  Book 91: U.K. Boxing Day

  Book 92: Jealous Russian Stalker

  Book 93: Italian Mountain Man

  ITALIAN MOUNTAIN MAN

  I’m a smuggler for the Italian mafia.

  And she’s completely off limits…the Don’s daughter.

  I’ve wanted her for four long years, and I’m done waiting. Speaking up in front of the head of the family will likely get me killed, but life isn’t worth living without her.

  I’m tired of keeping my desire for her a secret, and that’s not the only secret I’m keeping.

  It’s time to come clean about everything, but when I do what happens when I find out she’s been keeping a secret of her own?

  *Italian Mountain Man is an insta-everything standalone instalove romance with an HEA, no cheating, and no cliffhanger.

  NEWSLETTER

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  CHAPTER 1

  Lucia

  “You will go with Lorenzo,” my father, Giuseppe Morabito, says as he looks across the room at the only man I’ve ever loved.

  My dad pauses, staring down Lorenzo who is unflinching. I’ve never seen someone return my fathers gaze the way Lorenzo does. I only wish he would do the same in return for the lusty looks I’ve been giving him for years.

  “He’s a little rough around the edges,” my dad announces so the whole room can hear. “But he knows not to be rough with you…or I will get rough with him until the last bit of oxygen passes from his lips.”

  The room is silent as it always is when my dad speaks. Usually I’m not privy to these kinds of conversations, let alone present, but tonight is different.

  The Italian police have been all over our family, the 'Ndrangheta. My dad knows they’re close and he needs to go away for a while.

  Not away as in prison, as my dad is a fighter and at eighty-four years old the last thing he wants to see is the inside of a cell as he takes his final breath in this lifetime.

  Not away as in on the run either. My dad refuses to back down from anyone. He never has and never will, but at this point he knows he needs to lie low for a while, and he can’t
do that in Calabria, Italy.

  Where he will go is anyone’s guess. As the boss of our family I only expect his consigliere and underboss to know.

  But with him out of the picture he can no longer be the boss of me, and it’s any guess as to where things will go with Lorenzo now that I’m under his watchful eye.

  At twenty-two years old my father has always kept a close watch over me, as has Lorenzo.

  I see the way he looks at me, knowing he wants the same thing I want, but also knowing he’s not about to step over that line and risk his life, and mine.

  Lorenzo was only around a few times a year. All I knew was that he lived “in the mountains” as my dad would say. I never asked more, fearing that my father might interpret my questions for interest and then Lorenzo’s days would be numbered.

  As it stands, the only person’s days who are numbered are mine…as in eight thousand and thirty days, that’s how many days a woman’s had in her life when she turns twenty-two. One thousand four hundred and sixty days the number of days since I became legal, turning eighteen.

  Nearly fifteen hundred nights since my eighteenth birthday…fifteen hundred chances for Lorenzo to take me to his bed and make me a woman for the first time.

  I was saving myself for him and only him, and as far as I could tell he was saving himself in some way for me.

  I don’t know about his past before he began working with the family as an associate, but I’ve never once seen him so much as look at another woman.

  Sometimes after a big job the guys would all go to a strip club. The captains of the family loved treating their soldiers and associates from time to time after a big score, but Lorenzo never went with them. He simply did what he agreed to do and each and every time that was done he disappeared back into the mountains.

  I wondered what he did up there. Wondered if he had a woman and a family. Wondered if he ever thought about me.

  Now I was finally going to find out.

  CHAPTER 2

  Lorenzo

  Thirty minutes ago I was damn near a dead man, and now here I am about to be the luckiest man on the face of the earth.

  When Don Giuseppe Morabito, or Don Morabito as we respectfully referred to him, laid out a plan for the family in wake of the police crackdown it was my job to either accept his proposal or accept the consequences.

  Not this time.

  I stepped forward and spoke up, telling him that I could take his daughter up into the mountains, hide her and keep her safe.

  He looked at me like I’d lost my fucking mind, and immediately two soldiers stepped in, putting a pistol to each of my temples.

  I didn’t care. I’d rather die than live without her another day, and his plan was obvious and poorly thought out. He, and his daughter, would have been caught within three days, tops.

  I couldn’t allow that to happen.

  And the made men of the family couldn’t allow me to speak out of turn, and being that I was only an associate of the family, and not a part of it, I didn’t have a say, which is why if they heard anything coming from my direction either man standing to the sides of me would have normally pulled the trigger, filling my skull with lead.

  Did I have a rock for a brain? For speaking when I wasn’t spoken to, yes.

  But was I crazy? Not at all.

  And Don Morabito recognized that, telling the soldiers to put their guns down.

  The first thing he did was proceed to tell me that if I liked to speak so much he could make it so I could yell as loud and as much as I wanted…while his men tortured me for hours in the basement.

  I said nothing, just holding my body still, standing tall. I’d rather meet my maker with pride, then fall to my knees in front of another man and beg for him to spare me.

  Spare me the bullshit already.

  That’s the reason I moved to the mountains in the first place.

  After three tours with NATO in the mountains of Afghanistan I’d come to embrace the altitude and that life. Sure the terrain in the dolomites of Italy was different than Afghanistan, but the main premise was the same.

  I could be alone, free of the outside world. Days and days could go by without any form of contact, and when contact was made it was usually via some sort of phone or walkie-talkie, which didn’t require meeting in some lame coffee shop to talk about kids and families and all that kind of bullshit that I had no interest in.

  In Afghanistan it was simply tell me which terrorist mother fucker you wanted executed and that’s what I did, quickly, quietly, and efficiently.

  Now back home in Italy the calls usually were a request to transport items through the dolomites into Austria and then to Germany.

  What the items were I had no idea. Wasn’t my business. All I knew is that the mob paid well, well enough for me to carry packages for them a few times a year and that more than paid for my Spartan existence.

  Just how I like it.

  But all that changed when I took a liking to her. And it was much more than a liking. It was a fucking obsession that drove me wild.

  It was the only time I’d ever delivered a package to the family, always taking their outgoing packages and never taking their incoming deliveries.

  But this was different.

  I’d arrived at his house and was personally greeted by Don Morabito, which was rare. I almost always dealt with soldiers or captains, as it should be. There’s no need to move up the chain of command unless necessary.

  But apparently the safe delivery of this package was very necessary.

  The moment I arrived at the door of Don Morabito’s villa I knew something was different. I saw the long line of cars and heard music playing from behind the walls of his compound, and yes, his villa was a compound.

  It was reinforced with steel, bulletproof glass, and all the other cutting edge advancements in protection you could imagine…not to mention a small army of highly trained security, most former Italian Special Forces.

  And then there was me, the man they all seemed to hate. The one who came and went on the Ducati superbike a few times a year.

  But this time I was invited inside, past the sneers and gritted teeth of his men, as Don Morabito took me into his study like a scene right out of The Godfather.

  He passed my package off to a woman and asked me if I knew what was inside.

  I shook my head, knowing it was better not to speak.

  When he told me it was a one-of-a-kind Swiss watch for his daughter’s birthday party today, and my delivery ensured she would receive it on her birthday, and not after, I knew just how important I was to him on this occasion.

  I just never knew how important his daughter would be to me ever since.

  The woman returned a few moments later with the box wrapped up beautifully, even with a bow on top.

  He nodded to the woman and poured me a glass of whiskey, along with one for himself as we sat in his study.

  A few minutes later an angel, literally an angel, walked into the room.

  “Lucia, my Lucia,” he said as she came to his side.

  It took more willpower than I knew I had not to look at her…not to take in the sight of her in that pristine, white, virginal dress.

  Not to stare at those long, brown locks of hair that danced around her shoulders while my cock jerked in my fucking riding pants.

  Thank god I still had on my motorcycle gear, which helped hide my desire for her.

  She opened her gift and he helped her place it on her arm, where it’s stayed ever since. I know there was some kind of inscription on the back, but what I may never know.

  He simply flipped it over and they both looked at it before they turned to look at each other. He smiled, pulling her in and kissing her on top of her head.

  The fucker made me jealous. I’m not a family man, or at least never was until then, but the sight of any man kissing her filled me with rage.

  “Thank this man for what he’s brought you on your special day,” Don Morabito said.

>   When she turned to look at me, her shy eyes glancing at mine and then the floor, I knew I’d found a good girl, the perfect girl.

  My girl…and one day my woman.

  I was on my bike and leaving the property not ten minutes later, but every minute since all I’ve thought about is her.

  I may have seen the guards at his gate spit in my direction as I left that day, but I knew the final insult would be mine.

  And that would be the day I came and took the Don’s daughter from her castle, right in front of each and every one of those asshole’s eyes.

  And today was that day.

  CHAPTER 3

  Lucia

  I’m expecting to see the Ducati motorcycle I’d seen Lorenzo ride in on before, the same one I used to run to my window to get a glimpse of every time he came and went, which was rare.

  I used to spend months waiting for those moments, hoping to hear my father mention his name so I would know to be perched by my upstairs windows during the days his arrival was imminent.

 

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