Our Little Secret - Page 41

My red-faced smile is tight. ‘Aunt Netta, it’s so good to see you.’

‘You know, I half thought you wouldn’t turn up!’ She wags a finger at me. ‘We had money on it, didn’t we, Sienna? And look, here you are, handsome as ever! Please tell me lovely Faye is the person we have to thank for putting this colour in your cheeks and getting you all the way here. It’s about time, regazzo mio, about time!’

My frown returns. It’s all noise flying at me, a flurry of words, but some are sticking. Does anyone else want to accuse me of being so heartless as to not attend my little sister’s wedding? Is that really the impression I’ve built over the years—the workaholic bachelor with no time for anything or anyone else? As for the assumptions regarding Faye...

I sense movement behind Netta and it’s Faye, her skin calmer, her eyes...sincere. Why does it feel as if she can read me? Every intense, uncomfortable second?

She’s wearing a simple summer dress that ends just above the knee, nothing elaborate or sexy, but still my body warms, my heart beating that little bit faster the closer she gets.

She reaches out for Aunt Netta, her hand soft on my aunt’s shoulder as she laughs softly. ‘No, I’m afraid you have Dani to thank for me being here. I’m the maid of honour.’

‘Of course you are!’ Aunt Netta announces so loudly I want to cover my ears. She turns her attention to Faye and, before she can duck away, she’s getting the cheek-pinch too, though just the one side, not my double helping. ‘Dani always had excellent taste!’

‘And I don’t?’ I tease.

She rounds on me with a harrumph. ‘You, my boy, have yet to bring anyone home, maschio o femmina, for me to establish such credit. At least Dani comes to Tuscany often enough.’

‘Well, he’s here now.’ Faye positively beams.

‘Si, si, you’re right, he is,’ my mother chimes in, coming up alongside Aunt Netta and giving me a look I don’t recognise. ‘Faye, this is Sienna—Rafael and Danielle’s cousin.’

Sienna smiles at Faye. ‘It’s a pleasure, a real pleasure.’

Her eyes flit between the pair of us and I have the distinct impression she’s putting two and two together and coming up with a v

ery accurate four.

‘Let’s not stand here all day,’ I say, keen to shift the focus off us. ‘The tour is due to begin shortly. The rest of the guests should be in the gardens waiting.’

‘Speaking of which, Mamma,’ Sienna says, ‘what have you done with Giovanni?’

‘He’s making himself look pretty. He’ll join us shortly.’

I frown. ‘Giovanni?’

‘Si,’ my mother’s smile turns forced. ‘Antonietta’s plus-one. You know—the plus-one you wouldn’t let me have? You may even recognise him; he and your father were good friends.’

‘The best.’ Aunt Netta nods furiously. ‘God rest his soul. Eduardo was a good man, such a good man, it was a cruel—’

‘Sienna,’ I turn to my cousin. I can’t do this right now. ‘Do you need to go and fetch Lorenzo and the children...? Ah, no need, here they come now.’

Leo and Isabella are running through the entrance hall towards us, a rather flustered Lorenzo on their tail.

Whatever he has to be flustered about, it can’t be anything close to my discomfort, and I’m already walking away from the source of mine, eager for some grounded male companionship in place of the emotional rollercoaster of being around these four women, especially Faye. No matter how much I try, I can’t push her out of my mind or get my body under control whenever she’s near.

Clothed, unclothed, blushing, stoic... It doesn’t matter. Faye just gets to me.

She also gets me. More than my own family have ever been able to.

And I have no idea how to feel about it.

* * *

I’m so glad I opted for a light summer dress. The tour of the vineyards is scorching, and I’m already a hot, sweaty mess having to be in Rafael’s company again. I do my best to keep people between us, to act as a buffer, anything to try to lessen the effect of his presence.

But it’s no use.

My every sense is attuned to him. He moves and my eyes follow. He speaks and little tremors work their way through my body, relishing the sound. He passes by and the slightest touch, the slightest hint of his cologne, has my knees turning weak.

Tags: Rachael Stewart Romance
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