“Zuzu… mhmm… chocolate ice wream,” the child mumbled in his sleep, shifting positions with the careless ease only toddlers knew.

Azzurra remained frozen, wide eyes locked on Marcello. He let out a low, rumbling chuckle, and the sound rolled through her, leaving her stomach in warm, dizzy knots.

With his fingers brushing lightly over his lips, he turned to her, tilting his head as if to take her in from a better angle. The smile curving his mouth softened his features, and in that ...