An hour later, having debriefed Felix about his impressions of Frankie’s family, Bull studied the group from across the room.

Probably in her fifties, the mother was still a spectacularly beautiful blonde. Her two daughters, also blondes, had inherited her high cheekbones, pointed chin, big blue eyes.

Frankie’s heritage obviously came from her dark-haired, brown-eyed father.

They were all chattering away while Frankie sat quietly. Seeing her so subdued pissed him right the fuck off.

Ignoring the momentary wish for his old assault rifle, Bull strolled across the room. Stuffed full of good food, the opposing force sat, pinned at a table, square in his sights.

“Sweetheart.” Leaning over, Bull kissed the top of Frankie’s head—warning shot delivered across the bow—and ignored her parents’ startled expressions. “Welcome to Alaska, Bocelli family. I’m Bull Peleki, the owner of this establishment. How’s the food?”

After listening to their compliments—sincere, to his surprise—he smiled and initiated the attack. “You must be Frankie’s mother.”

When he glanced at Frankie and raised a brow, her color deepened. “Oh, excuse me. Bull, I’d like you to meet my mother and father, Sigrid and Giorgio Bocelli.”

Before she could introduce her sisters, Bull interrupted. “It’s good to finally meet you. Frankie has talked about you all quite a bit. I’m sure she’s told you she is staying with my family out at our property—what we call the Hermitage.”

Giorgio appeared surprised.

Sigrid didn’t. So, the mom knew about Frankie being with him, and dad didn’t? How much had Frankie told them about Mako’s sons and the Hermitage?

“When we heard you were here,” Bull continued, “my family hoped to meet you.”

Her mother was frowning at Frankie, but her father, who, from all reports, had a personality like Frankie’s said, “We’d be delighted.”

They were probably thinking a meeting would happen sometime in the future, but nope. Bull raised his hand and motioned.

Time for the psychological warfare.

From the bar where they’d been waiting, his family sauntered over. They were missing only Hawk and the children; Aric was still uncomfortable away from the Hermitage, and Hawk already had too many internal scars from family conflict.

Gabe and Audrey took seats directly opposite the parents; Caz and JJ sat down across from the sisters.

Bull slid into the empty chair next to Frankie. Felix was an excellent conspirator.

Reaching under the table, Bull appropriated Frankie’s cold little hand.

After studying his family, she narrowed her eyes at him.

Yes, sweetheart. The sarge’s sons are conducting a rescue, using words instead of bullets.

Rising, Bull launched into introductions. “On the New York side, we have Sigrid Bocelli—owner of the Bocelli Modeling Agency. Giorgio Bocelli, renowned for fashion photography. Anja”—he nodded at the oldest sister—“and Birgit, world famous models.”