Page 42 of My Fake Italian Marriage

Cleo groaned and collapsed on the bed, pressing the call button so hard she was surprised she didn’t leave a dent on the screen. “No, she didn’t!” she said as soon as Sarah answered.

“Absolutely everyone. I’ve already had four phone calls asking if I knew.”

“What did you say? Did you tell them you didn’t believe it and I’d never do something so impulsive?”

“I told them that no one deserves a happy ever after more than you.”

Cleo groaned again. “This is such a mess.” She gave her friend the Cliff’s Notes version of their stay in Lake Como, reliving the satisfaction of the look on Evan’s face when he learned she’d moved on even faster than he had, and ending with Luca’s completely preposterous request.

“That’s not such a bad idea,” Sarah said when she finished. “Giovanniwillbe more willing to hand over control of the vineyard if he thinks the next generation of family will be taking over. You’d have less of a battle on your hands.”

“Is there something in the Tuscan air that makes people go crazy? I amnotentering a marriage of convenience for the sake of Giovanni Fioravanti, or for a vineyard, or to save Kevin’s bacon.”

“But you won’t actually have to marry Luca. It’ll be like living with a new housemate for a few weeks. It won’t be any different from sharing the house with me and with Moira.”

“You and Moira aren’t hot Italian men.” Good lord, had she said that out loud?

“You liiiike him!” Sarah teased, drawing out the “like” as a teenager would. When Cleo didn’t answer, she laughed and continued. “Of course, you like him. Who wouldn’t? He’s a nice guy, charming, attractive, fun to be around, and he knows how to take care of a woman. You already know I think he’s what you need to get over Evan.”

“Please tell me you’re not suggesting what I think you’re suggesting.”

“Only if you tell me youhaven’talready considered sleeping with him.”

Cleo sank her forehead down on the bed. Sarah knew her too well. She couldn’t lie to her, even over the phone. As for sleeping with him … she already had. Then waking beside him this morning... Had it only been this morning? It felt like a lifetime ago.

“I can’t. Done that and got the t-shirt, remember? No way will I get involved with a client again. And for all intents and purposes, Luca is a client and off limits.”

“If you feel that strongly about it, then view this fake marriage as a business arrangement. Though for the record, I don’t think it would hurt to have a business arrangement with benefits. Just saying.” When Cleo didn’t answer, Sarah pushed on. “If you’re staying another few weeks anyway, does it matter whether you live in the villa with his parents, or in Luca’s apartment? I know which housemate I’d prefer!”

“What about Luca’s other women?” Cleo asked, changing the subject. Or maybe looking for an escape route. “Will I have someone after me with a pitchfork if they think I’ve taken him off the market?”

“I doubt it. I don’t think any of the women he dates view him as relationship material. He’s the guy you go to when you need a dinner companion or want your self-esteem boosted.”

Was that how everyone saw him? As a fun date for an evening, but nothing more? Sure, her non-dates with Luca had been more fun than most real dates she’d been on, but there was more to him than just a good time. Did he know that was how everyone thought of him?

Of course he knew. He’d made it his trademark. She couldn’t imagine how it must feel to know that everyone had such a low opinion of him. She shook her head, clearing the memory of his face downstairs in the Blue Salon, the hope and longing in his eyes.

A knock sounded at the bedroom door. Had it been half an hour already? “I have to go. Luca’s at the door, and I need to give him an answer.”

“Okay. Let me know what you decide. We have a spare room now if you need to run away and hide.”

Cleo ended the call, tucked the towel tighter around her, and called out, “Give me a moment.”

She hurriedly pulled on black trousers and a forest-green, cropped cardigan, then opened the door. Luca looked mouth-wateringly appealing in jeans and a pale blue collared shirt. She swallowed and stepped back, letting him into the room.

“You have decided?” He looked oddly nervous.

“I have a few conditions.”

He nodded.

“First.” She held up a finger and fixed him with a stern look. “I’m not kissing you in front of everyone to prove we’re a couple, no matter how much everyone begs. This is notThe Proposal.”

He looked confused.

“You know, the Sandra Bullock movie?”

Luca shrugged. “I don’t watch movies.”

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