Italian Affair Page 9

  His face was serious and the doubt settled in Brianna’s stomach.

  “He seems to be an astute old thing. That’s why I said we were getting married soon. It came out of nowhere.”

  “As long as you are sure you want to go through with this. What about your girlfriend?” She looked away from him and picked up the small teapot. Her hand shook as she poured her tea and waited for his answer. She’d waited for him to explain what that was all about, but he obviously wasn’t going to mention it.

  “Are you having second thoughts?” Tom asked.

  She looked up and was surprised by the frown crinkling his forehead as though he would be disappointed if she changed her mind.

  He was probably hoping she would.

  “No. I’m worried about the huge favor you are doing for me. I can’t understand why, especially when it’s upset your girlfriend. Did you meet her in Australia?”

  Tom looked at her and shook his head as he ran his hand though his hair in a frustrated gesture that was becoming quite familiar to her

  “I don’t have a girlfriend. She’s Aunt Carmen’s friend’s daughter, and for some reason she was expecting to get a job and a husband out of my visit. My aunt and her mother had obviously given her some expectations.”

  Tom reached over and took her hand, and the usual heat rushed in.

  “Honestly, I met her for the first time when I arrived at Aunt Carmen’s after I dropped you at the hotel the other night.” He pulled out his phone and checked the time. “It’s almost time to meet him. Are you ready?”

  Brianna jumped up and walked around the table. She stood behind Tom and draped her arms around his neck before bending down and kissing his cheek, letting her lips linger on his freshly shaved skin.

  “Okay, even if I can’t understand why, I guess we need to make this look genuine if we’re going to go through with it.” With a deep breath she inhaled the citrus tang of his aftershave and a spark of desire ran down her spine as he looked back at her. This tug of attraction hit her at the strangest times, and she decided to put it down to her overcharged emotions. That’s what it was. It was plain relief, not attraction. And he was a good-looking guy, so that was a bonus. She pulled back from him and tugged at his hand. “Come on then, we’d better get going.”

  “There’s one more thing you need to know before we go,” he said slowly as he stood.

  She looked up at him, the tone of his voice worrying her.

  “Oh God, what now?” She pulled her braid over her shoulder and twirled the loose hair at the end through her fingers.

  “Apparently, there is some bad blood between our families. When I told my aunt you were related to the Caranto family, she was a bit upset, but she wouldn’t tell me why. I’m sure your grandfather doesn’t know I’m related to her, so we might just keep that quiet.”

  “Well, that’s nothing we can’t sort out,” she said. “Family feuds have nothing to do with us. It’s just as well you’re here to translate for me. If he doesn’t speak English, I’ll keep looking at you lovingly while you speak for me.” She smiled and was pleased when he continued to hold her hand firmly in his as they made their way across the square back to the office of Antoniolli and Bruni.

  Tom pushed open the door to the lawyer’s office, and the secretary gestured for them to take a seat. It was a short time before they were ushered into Signore Antoniolli’s office. Her grandfather was standing straight and tall next to the lawyer.

  Brianna looked up into his unsmiling face. His demeanor had changed since this morning’s meeting when he had rushed out of the office, and her heart rate picked up. She forced a pleasant smile onto her face, determined not to let her nervousness show.

  “Buon giorno,” said Tom, holding out his hand. Her grandfather nodded and ignored Tom’s proffered handshake.

  Mr. Antoniolli directed them all to a seat before leaving the three of them alone in his office. They sat together in the small office until the silence became uncomfortable. Brianna gripped Tom’s hand as her grandfather looked from one to the other. Eventually, he locked a wary gaze on Tom’s face and spoke for a few moments.

  Tom leaned over to Brianna after he replied to the old man. “He said he is happy to meet with us. He has heard the wedding is to be tomorrow and asks if he may come.”

  “Well, I suppose that will be okay.” Brianna’s voice shook and Tom looked at her with concern on his face.

  “You’re sure you’re okay with that?”

  “Yes, as long as he doesn’t look like he’s at a funeral rather than a wedding.”

  Tom turned to her grandfather and spoke briefly. The old man nodded and ran a shaking hand over his face. Tom translated for Brianna.

  “I told him we’d let him know as soon as we have the documents sorted and book the ceremony.”

  “Tom…” Brianna tugged at his sleeve. “Ask him what I should call him?”

  The old man turned to her after Tom asked him and nodded. “Nonno.” His voice was stern and his face was expressionless.

  “Please ask him what his problem is.” She didn’t care what the answer was. She wanted everything out in the open, except the bit about the wedding being a sham, she thought.

  A lengthy conversation ensued, and she watched the expressions play across Tom’s face. She leaned into him when he placed his arm affectionately around her shoulders.

  The old man stood and looked across at Brianna, blinking his faded eyes. Tears pricked at her eyes as she held his gaze, and she didn’t brush them away. She moved away from Tom’s embrace, walked over to the old man, and took his hand. Reaching up, she brushed a soft kiss across the papery skin of his cheek.

  “Nonno,” she said. He gripped her hand firmly, before he turned away and opened the door.

  “Well?” She turned back to Tom as her grandfather left the room. He held his arms out to her and she leaned into him, appreciating his understanding of the emotion coursing through her.

  “Your mother left the island suddenly and didn’t come back for a long time. Apparently, she left with no explanation and they never knew she’d had a baby. He is still unsure if you are really his granddaughter, but he’ll accept what the lawyers say while he makes more inquiries. He’s also a bit suspicious about the wedding, and he wants to make sure we really go through with it. He wants to know why we waited until we came to Lipari to get married, and I had to do a bit of quick thinking. He’s suspicious the whole thing is a scam.”

  Tom looked guilty and a wave of compassion swept over Brianna. “I’m sorry, Tom. Are you sure you want to go through with this?”

  Brianna’s heart almost stopped as he frowned. He looked at her for a few minutes and indecision crossed his face. She was sure he was about to change his mind. She caught her breath.

  “If you’ve changed your mind, tell me. And tell me now. I am not going to risk this. I won’t lose the chance to get to know my mother. Even though she’s dead, I can still find out about her life and I can live where she lived.”

  “This whole deception has gotten out of hand. It’s starting to involve too many other people.” His voice was firm. “It’s not just about an inheritance any more. People are going to get hurt. And we’re lying.”

  “So what are you trying to say?” The panic built in her chest and she fought the disappointment that was clawing through her chest. “Are you trying to tell me you’ve changed your mind?”

  “No, I gave you my word. I’ve made a commitment and I won’t go back on it. But I think we need to draw up an agreement before we go through with it.”

  Brianna pushed away the confusion filling her. She had a lot of things to get her head around, including the feelings she was starting to have for Tom, but in the meantime she had a wedding to plan, whether he believed it or not.

  Chapter Nine

  Tom received some appreciative glances as he pushed his way through the throngs of casually dressed tourists crowding the morning market next to the harbor. He pulled at the collar
of his shirt. It was the second time he’d worn a suit since arriving in Italy, and it was constricting his neck after T-shirts all week. He strode up the road past the houses that seemed to be glued to the steep hillside overlooking the azure sea. Terraced gardens with grapevines, olive, and lemon trees and various vegetables provided a brilliant foreground to the intense blue of the midmorning sky. Scarlet geraniums in window boxes and pots spilled down the front of the houses, and sweet fragrances hung in the still, hot air.

  He paused at the entry of the small hotel at the top of the hill and wiped the perspiration from his face before pushing open the front door. The reception area was deserted, manned by a huge ginger cat draped along the counter. It swiped a lazy paw at him as he walked past the office. Tom stood next to the desk for five minutes before glancing at his watch. He tapped his fingers on the counter.

  Come on Brianna, we’re going to be late.

  God, he didn’t even know which room she was in. Leaning over the cat, he looked at the large book on the desk, scanning down the room numbers. Number six. Ballantyne. The name stood out in elegant copperplate in the old-fashioned reservations book.

  He climbed the stairs to the first floor and walked along until he reached her room at the end of the corridor. After tapping on the door, he crossed to the window that overlooked the square below, and he stood gazing down at the open-air market while he waited for her to open the door. After another five minutes had passed, he knocked again and a harried voice called through the door.

  “All right, already…hold ye horses. I’m bloody coming.”

  Sweet. A ladylike bride.

  He hadn’t planned on a wife, let alone one whose language could get quite colorful at times. Five more minutes passed and he glanced at his watch. He eased himself into the cane chair by the window and waited patiently. Noticing a speck of dirt on his shoes, he pulled out his handkerchief and polished it off. Satisfied they were back to their glossy shine, he looked up and a pair of long, bare legs filled his sight. He raised his eyes to the woman standing in front of the open door.

  A vision in white confronted him. Brianna’s olive skin accentuated the virginal white of the tight, short dress molded to her figure like a second skin. Her feet were clad in a pair of barely there gold sandals, and her toenails were painted a soft pink. For the first time since he’d met her, her hair was loose and a torrent of black curls cascaded around her shoulders, one side pinned back by a small spray of red and yellow wildflowers.

  His stomach contracted as though he’d been punched in the gut, and a frisson of desire shot straight to his groin.

  “You’re ready then?”

  “Yes, I’m ready…I think.” She smiled a shaky smile and reached over to tug the sleeve of his suit coat. “But don’t you think you’ll be too warm in a jacket?”

  “It’s a formal occasion. I thought a well-dressed groom was called for.”

  She reached up and brushed her lips across his cheek. “I’m sorry.” She pulled back and looked at him. “I was only teasing, but you do realize how much I appreciate this?” A frown wrinkled her forehead. “God, how many men would meet someone on a plane and then marry them within the week?” She shook her head and looked at him in disbelief. “It’s like a fairy tale. I can’t believe it. My mother’s cottage turns out to be a villa. I have a real grandfather, even though he doesn’t believe it yet. I really am starting to wonder about this. I always act without thinking, I know that.”

  Tom looked down at his watch and feigned displeasure to divert his attention from the beautiful woman in front of him. She was not the flighty girl he’d felt sorry for last week. The braids and the casual shorts had disappeared. This was a woman oozing sex appeal, and his libido appreciated it. And now she was the one having second thoughts.

  “Unless we leave straightaway, there’s not going to be a wedding.” He reached into his pocket and withdrew a handwritten piece of paper. Even though he’d typed the agreement in his laptop, there hadn’t been a printer anywhere in the marina and he’d had to resort to handwriting. “So we’d better talk this over and decide if we are going to sign this or if we call it quits now.”

  Brianna turned to pull the door closed and he gulped. Tanned smooth skin disappeared into a plunging deep V at the base of her back, and his fingers itched to run down her spine. He shoved his hands in his pockets and walked in front of her along the corridor to the narrow staircase. She stopped at the top of the stairs and sat down on the top step.

  “Show me.” She took the paper from his hands and quickly read the words. “Oh God, I don’t know. Am I crazy?” Brianna looked up at him as he sat down next to her on the wooden step. “On second thought, don’t answer that. I am. I know I’m crazy. I should never have suggested this in the first place.” Her bare shoulder pressed against his and he ignored the jolt of heat rocketing through his body.

  “Oh shit, Tom, I just thought. We haven’t got rings. So that solves it. We can’t go ahead with it.”

  “Yes, we have,” he said, patting his pocket. “I’ve got a ring for each of us.” He leaned over and put his arm around her, and as she leaned into him, her hair tickled his nose. “If you are going to change your mind, you have about two minutes to decide.”

  “What do you think?” She turned to him and he looked down at her. Her eyes were wide and full of trust.

  She didn’t really need to know what he was thinking at the moment, because it had nothing to do with getting married and making the right decision. He was fighting the temptation to push her back into the carpeted hallway, put his lips on hers, and run his fingers along her bare shoulders.

  But that wouldn’t solve anything. It would only make matters worse. He removed his arm and cleared his throat, trying to regain his composure.

  “I know,” she said. “Let’s make a list. Have you got a pen?”

  Tom pulled a pen from the pocket inside his jacket. “What sort of list? I’m trying to not make lists, remember?”

  “Of course you’ve got a pen. Who else would carry a pen to their wedding?” Brianna burst out laughing and he grinned back at her. “Okay. Pros and cons. And then if that doesn’t work we’ll vote. And never mind the no-list-making thing. Exceptions are always allowed in life.”

  He shook his head. “We can’t vote with two. It wouldn’t be fair to the loser.”

  “Shit, shit, shit.” Brianna handed him back the agreement, leaned forward and put her elbows on her knees, and dropped her chin into her hands. “I honestly don’t know what to do. It really isn’t the right thing, is it?”

  “Depends what we both want out of it. We’re both going into it with our eyes open.” Her uncertainty was hard to watch, and he wanted to see her smile.

  “We haven’t even got time to make a list,” she said.

  “I know how to decide,” he said, keeping his voice serious.

  He pushed himself to his feet and stepped down two of the stairs so his face was level with hers, and then reached down and lifted one of her hands. He let go and lifted his other hand and held it in front of her.

  “Rock, paper, scissors? Winner decides.”

  “Okay.”

  “Ready?” he said. She nodded.

  “One, two, three…four!”

  Tom laughed at both their palms extend flat in front of them. “Uh-oh. A tie. What now?” he said. “Best of three?”

  Brianna held her hand up to him and when he held it, she pulled herself to her feet.

  “No, no more time for games.” She turned to him, her eyes alight with laughter. “Give me the pen and paper. You convinced me. Hurry up or we’ll be late.” They both signed the agreement, and Tom put the piece of paper back in his pocket.

  “Come on, then. You’re getting to know me. I hate being late, and I’m not going to be late for my own wedding.”

  …

  It was cooler in the dim foyer of the town hall, and the three guests waited quietly. Brianna was surprised to see Tom’s aunt chatting to Signore
Antoniolli. It was a small town, so of course they’d know each other.

  Her grandfather stood to the side and looked across at her without a glimmer of a smile on his face, his beetling brows almost meeting. She looked away, and Tom, God love him, took her hand and squeezed it. His wedding, he’d said. Well, it was her day, too, and if she followed her heart and remained true to herself, it would be her only wedding. Once they annulled the marriage, there was no way she was ever going to marry again, so she might as well make the most of this one.

  Tom led her to the celebrant, and Brianna felt like she was distanced from the whole proceeding. Here she was getting married in an Italian town hall, surrounded by strangers, and not understanding a word of it. Nervousness settled deep in her chest like an ache.

  She swallowed, but the tightness rose up into her throat. Determined not to cry, she bit down on the side of her cheek so hard she tasted blood. But she failed and the urge to burst into tears got stronger. Tom elbowed her and she looked across at him, tears threatening to spill over onto her cheeks. She shook her head and he elbowed her again and inclined his head to the celebrant who was standing there with an expectant look on his face

  Even though the language was musical and pleasant to listen to, she’d stopped paying attention when her nerves had taken hold, and she had no idea what the man was saying. After a few moments, Tom leaned across to her. “He’s waiting for you to say you will take me as your husband.”

  Her nervousness disappeared as she looked up into Tom’s deep blue eyes. The sexy crinkles around his eyes deepened as he smiled down at her. He’d drilled the words into her memory, and she had practiced it over and over.

  “Err…i sarà.”

  Aunt Carmen clapped and her grandfather nodded when the celebrant put their hands together and spoke solemnly.

  “Si può baciare la sposa.”

  All thoughts of tears drifted away as Tom took her face between his hands and leaned his head toward hers. She held that sexy blue gaze with her own. He closed the distance between them. Desire rocked through her and her trembling legs threatened to give way. All she could think about was running her hands up underneath his shirt and touching his bare skin.