Where had that come from?
She lifted four bowls out of the cupboard and ladled delicious soup into them, thinking about the arrangement they’d come to. Discomfort was like ice inside her. They’d never really talked about how long they’d stay married for. But everything had changed. The deal they’d made was surely redundant now. She was in love, and she was pretty damned sure he was too.
Which meant what, exactly? That they’d live happily ever after? Was that even what he wanted?
Uncertainty brought her happiness down a notch. Perhaps they needed to have a talk about that? A Where are we going? conversation...
She grated some fresh parmesan over the top of the soup, adding a glug of oil and few leaves of basil.
The thing was, they’d done everything in reverse. From her extensive experience with books and movies Emmeline had gathered that generally two people met, discovered they were attracted to one another, dated, fell in love and slept together, then moved in together or got married. But at some point before that crucial last step they discussed what they wanted. Where their future was going.
Could they discuss that now? Or would it be weird? Everything was so good she didn’t want to ruin it.
With a small noise of frustration she lifted two bowls and moved through the kitchen and back into the dining room.
‘Let me give you a hand,’ Pietro said, as though he’d only just realised his wife would be ferrying four bowls on her own.
‘Thanks,’ she murmured, depositing the first in front of Ria before following her husband back to the kitchen. As she walked through the door he caught her around the waist and pulled her to him.
‘I want to take you upstairs now...’ He groaned. ‘Why is my family here?’
She laughed, but her heart was thundering, her pulse racing. ‘I don’t know. It was a terrible idea. Let’s send them away.’
‘Definitely.’ He kissed her hard and fast. ‘A down payment,’ he said with a wink.
‘Good. I’ll expect payment in full later.’
‘How much later?’ He groaned again, his expression impatient.
She kissed his cheek. ‘Not long, I hope.’
The soup was a hit. She had been anxious about cooking such a quintessentially Italian dish for her husband’s family, but they seemed genuinely to love it, and Emmeline had to admit it was one of her best. The quail was perfect, too. Served with some crispy potatoes and garlic-roasted green beans, it was an excellent mix of flavours and textures.
Pietro took over hosting after dinner, making espresso martinis in the lounge area that they progressed to.
Pietro had given her a car. That meant something. Not to mention his sweet sentiments about her wanting freedom. This marriage was so much more than either of them had anticipated. It was real.
‘You’re quiet,’ Rafe remarked, taking the seat beside hers.
Whoops.
‘And you look concerned. Is everything okay?’
Emmeline hardly wanted to have a deep and meaningful conversation about her marriage with her brother-in-law, so she scrambled for the easiest explanation she could offer.
‘Oh, you know...’ She smiled at him, her mind turning over quickly. ‘It’s my dad. He’s not well, and it’s hard to be over here and so worried about him,’ she said with a shake of her head.
Rafe’s surprise was obvious, but Emmeline didn’t understand it, of course. ‘He told you?’
‘Of course he told me,’ Emmeline said with a small frown of her own. ‘It’s hardly a secret.’
‘Oh, thank God. I know Pietro’s been tearing himself up about all this. It must be a weight off his mind that you know.’
Emmeline’s look was quizzical. It was just the flu, and she’d only recently found out about it herself. ‘How does Pietro know?’ she asked quietly.
Rafe froze, apparently sensing that they were speaking at cross purposes. He sipped his martini, his eyes scanning the room. ‘Um...’
‘How does Pietro know what?’
Pietro appeared at that moment, devastatingly handsome in the suit that she loved so much. But Emmeline hardly noticed.
‘How do you know my father is sick?’
CHAPTER TWELVE
SILENCE STRETCHED LIKE a piece of elastic. Then it stretched some more.
Emmeline tried to make two and two add up to four but it wasn’t possible.
‘Rafe just said you’ve known for a while. That it’s been tearing you up,’ she murmured. None of this was making sense.
Rafe swore, standing up and setting his martini glass down in one movement. He tossed Pietro a look of deep apology. ‘I thought she knew.’
Emmeline stood up too, the movement unknowingly fluid. ‘Knew what?’ Her voice was louder. More demanding. The fear in it was obvious.