Page 167 of Forbidden Forget-Me-Not

“Welcome, Kaylani. You’re even more beautiful than my son described.”

“Thank you, Mr. Harrington.”

His mother stood and drew me into a hug, air kissing my cheeks. She wore a warm smile that sparkled as brightly as the diamonds around her neck. Her hair was pulled into a tight bun, and her eyes studied me with sharp interest. Not warm, not cold, more assessing.

“And these three are my annoying younger brothers,” Julian jested, following me this time, and settling his hand on the small of my back.

I bit back the urge to tell him not to touch me.

“Please. You’re only older than me by two minutes,” the one closest to me said as he stood.

They resembled each other but not close enough to be considered identical. Fraternal twins, then.

“I’m Matteo.”

He wore a casual and charming smile, but his eyes were too observant. A politician, if there ever was one.

“Nice to meet you, Matteo.”

He shook my hand, and I appreciated the firmness of his grip.

“I’m Luca,” the second one interrupted, but didn’t stand.

His tone was almost aggressive, like he wanted to be here about as much as I did. He was the only one with blond hair, which made him stand out immediately. He had broad shoulders and a scar cutting through his eyebrow. His gaze lingered on me like I was a problem.

“And I’m the best of the bunch. Adriano, at your service.”

The third brother stood and pulled me into a hug that was far too close and handsy for someone I had just met. When he stepped back, his grin carried a devilish edge, and he didn’t look much older than me. I pegged him as the life of the party, the kind whose morals disappeared when women were involved. The way his hand lingered on mine and his attention drifted briefly to my chest confirmed my suspicion.

My father sat beside Arturo, discussing business as if they were kings.

Julian held my chair as I sat down. Soft music filtered into the room from speakers I couldn’t see. Wine was poured, and the first course arrived. Conversation remained polite, as if we were actors following a script.

Arturo steepled his fingers, observing me with quiet intensity that had me bracing for whatever came next.

“Your riding career…impressive for someone so young.”

Not what I had been expecting.

“Thank you. I’ve worked very hard.”

“You’ll enjoy it here.” He pointed toward the window. “There are stables on the lower property. We breed Andalusians. You might like to ride while you’re here.”

A lead line disguised as a generous offer.

“That’s thoughtful, and I’m sure I will. But I have a real bond with my horse. We’re a team.”

“Of course,” he replied. “Your horse will be transported once things settle.”

Once things settle?

Julian leaned back slightly in his chair, every bit as self-important as I remembered.

“I imagine this has been overwhelming for you.” He waved his hand around the room. “Sudden travel. Media whispers. Your father’s…decisive nature.”

Dimitri didn’t react to the comment.

Julian’s gaze lingered on me.