Artie moistened her lips, conscious of the slow crawl of heat in her cheeks. ‘Yes, well, I thought it best. I’m not the best actor when it comes to playing charades, and she’s known me a long time and would sense any hint of inauthenticity.’

‘I would prefer you not to tell anyone else about the terms of our relationship.’ His tone was firm. ‘I don’t want any idle gossip getting back to my grandfather.’

‘Rosa is the soul of discretion. She would never betray a confidence.’ It was the one thing Artie could rely on—the housekeeper was loyal and trustworthy to a fault. Rosa had never revealed Artie’s struggles to anyone and had always been as supportive as possible.

Luca came over to the sofa where she was sitting and leaned down and picked up the sampler she’d been working on. He ran his fingers over the tiny flower buds and leaves she had embroidered. ‘This is exquisite work. Have you been doing it long?’ he asked.

Artie shrugged off the compliment but inside she was glowing from his praise. No one apart from her father and Rosa had ever seen her work. ‘It’s just a hobby. I started doing embroidery after I got out of hospital. I’m self-taught, which you can probably tell.’

He turned the sampler over and inspected the other side, where the stitches were almost as neat and precise as on the front. ‘You undersell yourself, cara. You could start a small business doing this sort of thing. Bespoke embroidery. There’s a big swing away from factory-produced or sweatshop items. What people want these days is the personal touch.’

‘Yes, well, I’m not sure I’m ready for that.’ Artie took the sampler out of his hand and folded it and put it inside her embroidery basket, then closed the lid with a definitive movement.

‘What’s stopping you?’

I’m stopping me.

Her fear of the big, wide world outside the castello was stopping her from reaching her potential. She knew it but didn’t know how she could do anything to change it. How could she run a business locked away here? She met his probing gaze for a moment before looking away again. The thought of revealing her phobia to him made her blood run cold. What would he think of her? She had effectively married him under false pretences. ‘I’m happy leaving it as a hobby, that’s all. I don’t want to put myself under pressure of deadlines.’

‘Speaking of deadlines...’ Luca rubbed a hand down his face, the raspy sound of his palm against his light stubble making her recall how it had felt against her skin when he’d kissed her. ‘I’d like to make an early start in the morning. My grandfather gets tired easily, so the first part of the day is better for him to receive visitors.’

Artie blinked. Blinked again. Her pulse began to quicken. Her breathing to shorten. Her skin to tighten. She rose from the sofa on unsteady legs and moved to the bank of windows on the other side of the room. She turned her back to the room and grasped the windowsill with white-knuckled force. ‘Maybe you should go alone. I need more time before I—’

‘There isn’t time to waste.’ The intransigent edge to his tone was a chilling reminder of his forceful, goal-directed personality.

Artie swallowed a tight lump in her throat and gripped the windowsill even harder. ‘I... I can’t go with you.’

There was a beat or two of intense silence. A silence so thick it seemed to be pressing in on her from all four walls and even the ceiling. A silence that echoed in her head and roared in her ears and reminded her she was way out of her depth.

‘What do you mean, you can’t? We made an agreement, Artie. I expect you to adhere to it.’ His voice throbbed with frustration. ‘Be ready at seven thirty. I’m not taking no for an answer.’

Artie released her grip on the windowsill and turned to face him. Her stomach was roiling, her skin damp with perspiration, her mind reeling at the thought of going beyond the castello gates. ‘Luca, please don’t do this.’ Her voice came out sandpaper-hoarse.

He gave a savage frown. ‘Don’t do what? All I’m asking is for you to uphold your side of our agreement. Which, I might remind you, is a legal one. You signed the papers my lawyer prepared—remember?’

Artie steepled her hands against her nose and mouth, trying to control her breathing. Her heart was doing cartwheels and star jumps and back flips and her pulse was off the charts. ‘It’s not that I don’t want to go...’

‘Then what is it?’

She lowered her hands from her face and pressed her lips together to stop them from trembling. She clasped her hands in front of her body, her fingers tightly interlaced to the point of discomfort. She couldn’t bring her gaze up to meet his, so instead aimed it at the carpet near his feet. ‘There’s something I haven’t told you...something important.’

Luca crossed the room until he was standing in front of her. He lifted her chin with the end of his finger and meshed his gaze with hers. His frown was still in place but was more concerned now than angry. ‘What?’ His tone was disarmingly gentle and his touch on her chin light but strangely soothing. ‘Tell me what’s going on. I want the truth, cara.’

Artie bit the inside of her mouth, trying to find the words to describe her condition. Her weakness. Her shame. ‘I... I haven’t been outside the castello grounds since I was fifteen years old. It’s not that I don’t want to leave it—I can’t.’

His hand fell away from her face, his forehead creased in lines of puzzlement. ‘Why can’t you? What’s stopping you?’

She gave a hollow, self-deprecating laugh and pointed a finger at her chest. ‘I’m stopping me.’ She stepped back from him and wrapped her arms around her body. ‘I have crippling social anxiety. I can’t cope with crowds and busy, bustling places. I literally freeze or have a meltdown—a full-blown panic attack.’

He opened and closed his mouth as if trying to think of something to say.

‘I’m sorry,’ Artie said. ‘I should have told you before now but I was too embarrassed and—’

‘Please. Don’t apologise.’ His voice was husky, his expression etched with concern. He shook his head like he was trying to get his muddled thoughts in some sort of order. ‘Why didn’t your father say something to me? He led me to believe you were—’

‘Normal?’ She raised her brows in an arch manner. ‘Is that the word you were looking for? I’m hardly that, am I?’

Luca made a rough sound at the back of his throat. ‘Cara, please don’t run yourself down like that. Have you seen a health professional about it?’