Page 75 of My Fake Italian Marriage

“Neanche per sogno!”

Cleo looked to Luca for a translation, and he grinned. “He doesn’t believe me.”

Stefania’s mouth had dropped open too, but she overcame her shock quicker than her husband. “How did you manage that?”

Cleo’s answer was a red-hot blush. How could she tell this woman, whose marriage into the family had caused them to be excommunicated, that her own fake marriage had been enough to win over Giovanni? She hadn’t yet had a chance to think about that, to figure out why she’d been accepted, despite their similar backgrounds.

“Babbo thinks Cleo is a miracle worker who walks on water,” Luca said, “because he thinks she married me.”

“You’re married?” Gio asked, at the same time that Stefania said, “Hethinksyou are married?”

“It’s a long story.” Cleo shifted uneasily.

Gio spread his hands. “We have time to hear it. But I think first we’re going to need more wine.”

He re-filled their glasses from the pitcher on the table, and then sprawled back in his seat, his attention focused on Cleo.

Where should she begin? She blew out a breath. “It started as a silly misunderstanding at the hotel in Blevio. Then word leaked out and suddenly all the distributors were showing renewed interest in our wines, so we went along with it.” How big the lie had grown since then. “When we returned to Montalcino, your parents had heard the gossip and assumed we’d married impulsively while we were away. They were so excited.” Which was the under-statement of the decade.

Luca picked up the story. “They had a big party ready and waiting for us when we got home. How could we break their hearts and tell them it was all a mistake?”

Gio threw back his head as he laughed a deep belly laugh. “Oddio!I can imagine how happy they were! No one ever really believedyouwould settle down.”

Cleo glanced at Luca and though he still appeared his usual, smiling self, his grip on his wine glass had tightened enough to turn his knuckles white.

Gio turned to Cleo again. “So that is why you are really here in Tuscany, not to run the vineyard until my father is better but to hire new management?”

She nodded. Here was her opening. Since Luca clearly looked up to his brother, maybe she could enlist Gio’s help to persuade Luca to take the job. “We need not just a manager, but a vintner too.”

Luca carefully set down his wine glass and turned intent eyes on his brother. “That new vintner will be you.”

“What?” The word exploded from both Cleo and Gio at the same time.

Again, it seemed as if the earth tilted on its axis. While Cleo still gaped like a fish, Gio said, “That is not possible, and you know it. You may have convinced Babbo to retire, but he will die before he letsmetake over his vineyard.”

Luca shook his head. “Anything is possible. We can change his mind and you can come home.”

Was this what Luca had in mind all along? She tried to remember their conversation, when she’d asked him to consider taking over the vineyard. Had he agreed, or had he blown her off with one of his easy-going, non-committal smiles?

Stefania cast her a curious look, the only person who seemed aware of the storm raging inside her.

“I need to start dinner,” she said to Cleo. “Will you help me in the kitchen?”

Cleo followed Stefania into the kitchen, all too happy for a chance to be doing something so she could process the curve ball Luca had thrown her. “I should probably warn you that I’m a lousy cook,” she confessed when they were beyond the men’s hearing, but Stefania only laughed.

“Fine. I’ll cook and you can tell me about yourself.”

In the kitchen, as Stefania assembled ingredients on the counter top, she leaned forward to say conspiratorially, “This is the first time Luca has ever brought a woman to meet us.”

“Don’t get too excited. We both heard the real reason I’m here. It doesn’t mean anything; it’s just business.”

“I have known Luca for two decades. If it was just business, he would have made a phone call. No, he brought you here so we could meet you.” Her eyes twinkled. “Or maybe so you could meet us.”

Cleo wished she shared Stefania’s conviction. She wanted very much to believe that what she and Luca had was special, that this wasn’t just business or a pretend marriage to boost his father’s spirits. She wanted to believe she meant as much to him as he’d come to mean to her.

But, hello … secret brother! If he couldn’t even share something so important with her, then she was no different from any of the other parade of women who passed through his life, was she? That truth burned worse than a jellyfish sting. Her one consolation was that when she’d been stung by a jellyfish, the sting had only hurt for a few hours, and the rash had disappeared after a few weeks. She’d get over this hurt too.

Stefania cast her a shrewd sideways glance. “You did not come here to offer Gio a job, did you?”

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