Bound By A Sicilian Secret

LELA MAY WIGHT grew up with seven brothers and sisters. Yes, it was noisy, and she often found escape in romance books. She still does, but now she gets to write them, too! She hopes to offer readers the same escapism when the world is a little too loud. Lela May lives in the UK with her two sons and her very own hero, who never complains about her book addiction—he buys her more books! Check out what she’s up to at lelamaywight.com. Books by Lela May Wight His Desert Bride by Demand Discover more at millsandboon.co.uk. Bound by a Sicilian Secret Lela May Wight www.millsandboon.co.uk ISBN: 978-0-008-92872-8 BOUND BY A SICILIAN SECRET © 2023 by Lela May Wight Published in Great Britain 2023by Mills & Boon, an imprint of HarperCollinsPublishers 1 London Bridge Street, London, SE1 9GF All rights reserved including the right of reproduction in whole or in part in any form. This edition is published by arrangement with Harlequin Books S.A. This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, locations and incidents are purely fictional and bear no relationship to any real life individuals, living or dead, or to any actual places, business establishments, locations, events or incidents. Any resemblance is entirely coincidental. By payment of the required fees, you are granted the non-exclusive, non-transferable right and licence to download and install this e-book on your personal computer, tablet computer, smart phone or other electronic reading device only (each a “Licensed Device”) and to access, display and read the text of this e-book on-screen on your Licensed Device. 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Trademarks marked with ® are registered with the United Kingdom Patent Office and/or the Office for Harmonisation in the Internal Market and in other countries. www.millsandboon.co.uk Note to Readers This ebook contains the following accessibility features which, if supported by your device, can be accessed via your ereader/accessibility settings: Change of font size and line height Change of background and font colours Change of font Change justification Text to speech “Why are you here?” His jaw slackened, his ethereal eyes widening. “Because I need to know.” “Know what?” Flora breathed the words, low and long. His words were an echo of the night they’d met. When their worlds collided. Both surreal entities standing in front of each other, trapped in each other’s aura—in each other’s presence. A moment out of time, out of place... And here he was again. Out of place. Making her feel—making her react—rather than think or follow routine. “Are you or are you not?” he asked, his voice pulling her in, trapping her in his intense gaze and locking her inside. “Pregnant?” This book is dedicated to my editor, Charlotte. Thank you for guiding me to find the true heart of my stories. Contents Cover About the Author Booklist Title Page Copyright Note to Readers Introduction Dedication CHAPTER ONE CHAPTER TWO CHAPTER THREE CHAPTER FOUR CHAPTER FIVE CHAPTER SIX CHAPTER SEVEN CHAPTER EIGHT CHAPTER NINE CHAPTER TEN CHAPTER ELEVEN CHAPTER TWELVE CHAPTER THIRTEEN EPILOGUE Extract About the Publisher CHAPTER ONE HER LIFE—HER HISTORY—had been erased. Flora Bick stared at the document in her hands. One hundred and twenty-six pages of redacted information. Thick black line after thick black line. She’d known the risks—the fall-out. The counsellor had prepared her before this, her first visit into the big smoke without her parents. London, a city that had always felt so far away from her life in Devon. But what she hadn’t expected was the pain in her chest, nor the tightening of her gut into a clenched fist. She hadn’t expected the...grief. It was grief, wasn’t it? Something had crashed into her chest, leaving a vast crater. But it wasn’t empty. It was full of lots of things she couldn’t place—couldn’t catch. It was a tightness, a tingle, a breathlessness. Sitting on the edge of the bed, Flora flipped to the first page of her adoption file with trembling fingers. It was a chronological account of her life before the farm. Before two strangers had claimed her as their own. As their daughter. But she’d been someone else’s daughter, hadn’t she? It had taken a broken ankle for her to find that out. To learn that she and her parents were not biologically related. And it hurt. The lies. Twenty-one years of lies! Her instinct was to run. Run hard and run fast. But where would she go? She’d chosen this hotel. Ignored the reservation for the more budget-friendly hotel her parents had booked for her, close to the train station, and walked into this hotel with its golden doors and nodding doormen dressed in white hats and gloves, offering to carry her tatty backpack for her. Because just for today—for tonight—she wanted to experience a world that was unlike her own. A life she might have had. Who knew? She hadn’t known. Not until she’d opened this folder. And she’d wanted to open it in a room like this. The ceilings were high, with sweeping patterns leading to a chandelier of dangling diamond lights. The dark oak bed almost spanned the width of the room, with layers upon layers of the softest blankets. And when she’d climbed onto it the mattress hadn’t given at her weight. It had cushioned her body in a firm but gentle hug. Caressed her skin with the softest touch. And she’d let her head