Page 82 of The Sun & Her Burn

“She has a date with Adam Meyers,” Ro interceded on my behalf. “He’s picking her up.”

Something dark and greedy crossed Sebastian’s face almost too quickly to notice it.

“Bene, I would like to introduce our Brit to my family, too,” he announced. “Andiamo, Linnea. Let’s go.”

He reached his hand out for me, and Rozhin’s eyes bulged in surprise as I stepped forward to take it. It wasn’t wise to show casual affection for another man, let alone a fellow movie star, when I was dating Adam, but I trusted Ro enough to indulge in the need to be close to him.

After nearly a week without seeing him, in the wake of a kiss that had rocked me and left me utterly disoriented, I wanted to hold Seb’s hand like I needed my next breath.

The casual affection reminded me that, no matter what, we had been friends for years and would remain so for years yet. Unlike Savannah Richardson, I never intended to let Sebastian Lombardi go.

“You better fucking call me later, girl,” Ro muttered as I passed her.

I rolled my eyes at her, but she just lifted a finger to point at me the way a scolding mother might have.

Sebastian didn’t let go of my hand as we crossed into the restaurant and weaved through the tables toward the large round top in the corner where his sister, brother-in-law, and now mother sat.

I tried to pull back, but he held fast.

“Stai fermo,” he murmured to me as he pulled me close to tuck my hand through his arm as we reached the table. “Be still, Linnea. They will love you.”

Daniel Sinclair stood as we stopped at the table, a gentlemanly almost archaic thing to do that made me instantly like him. Miranda would have swooned, and not just because hewas gorgeous, with shoulder-length dark red hair and vibrant blue eyes set in a tanned face.

“Sebastian,” he said, his voice faintly French. “Who is this?”

“May I introduce Linnea Kai,” Sebastian said, and he did it so…proudly. As if I were famous or important and not just a girl.

To my horror, tears pricked the backs of my eyes.

“Linnea,” his brother-in-law repeated with raised brows and a small, enigmatic smile. “Good to meet you. I am Sinclair, Giselle’s husband.”

“OhLinnea.” Sebastian’s mother, a gorgeous older woman with thick, long, black hair with ribbons of silver strands, stood up to grasp me by the shoulders and kiss me on either cheek. “Sebastian has told me about you. You are the girl who loves the ocean,si? You smell of its salt.”

I laughed a little weakly, overwhelmed. “Yes, I guess I am.”

When I looked at Sebastian, he was smiling widely, eyes glowing like miniature suns.

“You can call me Mama,” his mother offered kindly. “Everyone does.”

“Or, if that is too familiar, her name is Caprice,” Giselle said, standing up to extend her hand across her mother’s body. There was crimson and fuchsia paint dried on the inside of her wrist. “My name is Giselle. I’m so happy to meet such an old friend of Seb’s.”

“I can’t believe you told them about me,” I muttered, a little embarrassed even though I was also immeasurably pleased.

Dad and my uncles knew about Sebastian, of course, because they always teased me mercilessly about the postcards and letters I wrote to him, but that was different somehow.

“Certamente, I did,” Sebastian agreed with a small frown as he ushered me to an empty seat. “You are important to me.”

“I love your dress,” Giselle complimented as we settled at the table. “It’s so delicate, it almost looks like sea foam.”

I grinned. “That was exactly what inspired it, actually, so thank you.”

She lifted a fine red brow. “You made it yourself?”

“Linnea is an accomplished designer,” Sebastian said, sliding an arm along the back of my chair the way a lover might. The press of his bare skin along my shoulder made me shiver. “She is always wearing something new and beautiful.”

I blushed and swatted at his chest. “Stop singing my praises. I like you enough already without you being so over the top.”

“Over the top?” he repeated with mock outrage. “Me?”