Page 69 of My Fake Italian Marriage

Sarah gave her an odd, assessing look. “How do you feel about that? About returning to London?”

Cleo shrugged, but her stomach pulled tight. Every time she thought about leaving Italy, it felt like Sunday night before going back to school on Monday. Which was silly. She loved her home, and she loved London with its never-ending round of entertainments, its melting pot of accents and cultures, and its endless choice of cuisines from every corner of the globe; the Peruvian bar close to the office where she and her workmates sometimes grabbed an after-work cocktail, the multitude of curry-and-beer places in Brick Lane, the Lebanese restaurant in Soho that was her favourite date-night restaurant. She loved its moods, the way the city blossomed in the spring sunshine, the festive atmosphere of its parks and concerts on warm summer days, the palpable excitement in the air when the Christmas displays appeared in shop windows.

But she was growing to love Tuscany too, in an entirely different way. “I’ll miss Italy,” she said slowly, as Sarah shifted the pasta parcels from the baking tray onto a serving dish. “In many ways, Tuscany reminds me of Stellenbosch, and I hadn’t realised how much I missed it.” In all the years since her brothers and parents had emigrated to the UK, she’d only returned to South Africa for two fleeting visits, for family weddings. “But, like any holiday, this trip can’t last forever, and I’m excited to get back home.” She traced the pattern of the tablecloth with her finger. “There are rumours that Magna Media is looking to expand. It’s going to be a big project.”

Sarah paused what she was doing to look at her. “You don’tsoundexcited.”

Cleo smiled ruefully. “Italy has this way of getting under your skin, you know? Of making you re-evaluate what you want.”

Sarah’s smile was smug. “Oh, trust me, I know! And what is it you’re re-evaluating?”

“I love my job, and how each project is different, but I’ve been doing it for so long now I can sleep-walk through my days. Before I arrived here, I thought I wanted to be promoted into Fern’s job, but now it feels like just more of the same. I need a new challenge. As soon as I can get some leave again, I think I’ll visit my family, and see if that helps me figure out what to do next.”

She still hadn’t told Luca that her work here at the vineyard was an off-the-books, unpaid assignment and she’d used up her holiday leave to be here. That had been the first deception of many. Lies were like that … start with one and soon they snowballed into a fake marriage.

Sarah angled a curious look at her. “So this is only about work? What about you and Luca?”

“There is no ‘me and Luca’. It’s just sex. Nothing more than a little fun, just like Dr. Sarah prescribed.”

Sarah blew out a breath, as if releasing anxiety. “I’m glad. For a moment, I was worried you were falling for him. Luca is very good at making women believe in fairy tales and happy ever afters, but he’s not one for the ‘ever after’ part.”

Cleo managed a smile. “You don’t need to worry about me. I won’t make that mistake again. I know that even if a man ticks every box on my wishlist, it means nothing if he isn’t prepared to commit to that happy ever after with me.”

And now she was even lying to her best friend. She’d never lied to Sarah before. But Sarah would be anxious for her if she admitted that what was between her and Luca had always been more than “just sex”. It was low-voiced conversations in the dark, waking in the early hours with his hand on her hip, and the way his eyes smiled when he looked at her. It was the way she felt when she was with him, no longer the “girl next door” or the team player everyone counted on to get the job done. With Luca, she could be more; she could be desirable and sassy too.

And it was the way her chest pulled deliciously tight every time their gazes met. She hadn’t felt this way in a very long time, certainly not with any of the many, many men she’d tried dating over the years. Not even Evan.

The one thing she’d said that wasn’t a lie was that she was done wasting her hopes on a man who wasn’t prepared to take a chance on a future with her. She bit her lip. Unless Luca’s offer meant something more? A partnership that was both business and personal…

Sarah stowed the sauce and the dish with thefagottiniin the oven’s warmer before picking up a covered platter. “Have you hired a new vintner yet?”

Cleo followed her towards the door. “I offered the job to Luca.”

Sarah paused, eyes wide. “Wow. And he agreed?”

“He hasn’t accepted yet, but it’s the obvious solution. Tomorrow, we’re doing an overnight trip to Chiusi, and while we’re away I plan to persuade him. After all, there’s no reason why he shouldn’t take the job.”

* * *

Luca breathed in the wine that Tommaso invited him to taste, one of Castel Sant’Angelo’s own Sangiovese blends. He took a sip, and let it sit on his tongue a moment before he swallowed. A bold red with oaky notes, well-structured and full-bodied. For someone who had come to wine-making later in life, Tommaso was a skilled vintner, and as passionate about wine as Luca himself.

When their enthusiastic discussion about their favourite local wines was interrupted by a phone call, Luca wandered across the drawing room to admire the magnificent restored fresco that dominated the room, a view of thecastelloand its vineyard, with Montalcino in the distance. The last time he’d been here, this wall had been covered by ugly, dark wallpaper.

“Your friend Fiorella did a wonderful job restoring these frescos,” Sarah said, appearing beside him.

He nodded. “I am glad I introduced you. She is very good at what she does.”

She waggled her eyebrows suggestively. “Clearly, you are too. Cleo looks happy.”

Relief dissolved the tension in his chest. “You don’t disapprove?”

“Evan really knocked her confidence, and there’s no one better at restoring a woman’s confidence than you.”

He hoped he’d done more than simply restore Cleo’s confidence. He glanced over his shoulder to where she had joined Tommaso at the art deco drinks trolley. With her canary-yellow dress and trademark bright red lipstick, she added vibrancy and colour to the room. She laughed at something Tommaso said, and Luca couldn’t help himself; he smiled, his chest filling like the sun rising over the vineyard.

Sarah sighed. “Oh dear. I was right.”

He turned back to her, eyebrow raised.

---