Our Little Secret by Rachael Stewart (free ebook novel txt) 📕

only have to lean to the left and I can smell her perfume and feel her body warmth penetrate mine. I’m hooked on her. As hooked on her as I was on day one and I can’t imagine it ever dying out. Which of course it will. But right now...

I slip my hand beneath the table and stroke her thigh above her dress. I hear the slightest catch in her breath, her eyes flickering in my direction before they go back to Dante on the other side of her and she continues their conversation. But then her hand is there, slipping over mine, and the simple connection makes me content and alive in one.

The whole table is buzzing with chatter, but I’m attuned only to her, and as she forks up a piece of Nonna’s famous tiramisu and slips it into her mouth I can almost feel her pleasure.

‘This is so good,’ she murmurs, her hum of appreciation teasing me to the core.

‘Nothing beats Nonna’s tiramisu,’ Dante says, raising a glass to the woman herself sitting at the head of the table.

‘There’s more, if I can tempt you?’ Nonna says.

Faye shakes her head, her hand leaving mine to press against her stomach. ‘I’d love to but I’m afraid I can’t. I don’t think I’ll sleep if I eat any more. I’m not quite sure how you all manage to eat so late.’

‘Ah, yes,’ my mother chimes in. ‘It is the Italian way, I’m afraid. It does take some getting used to.’

‘Well, you, sorella, wouldn’t need to get used to it if you came back more,’ says Aunt Netta.

‘Hey, Mamma, let it go.’ Dante’s severe frown is for his mother alone, but she doesn’t need it; she’s already smiling softly, her eyes damp at the corners as she looks at my mother.

‘What I mean is, I’ve missed you, Marianna. If I’d known a wedding would bring you back here sooner, I would have been breathing down Dante’s neck a lot more.’

‘Well, it’s not Dante’s fault Sienna decided on a small, intimate arrangement for her wedding,’ my mother returns swiftly.

Here we go... I lift my wine glass and take a sip, preparing to intervene as Sienna looks up from her conversation with Lorenzo. ‘We’re not doing this again, are we?’

‘No.’ Giovanni tries to intercede but Aunt Netta’s already talking over him.

‘It’s hardly Sienna’s fault, or Dante’s, that Rafael hasn’t seen fit to find himself a wife. Lord knows it’s about time he did.’

The wine catches in my throat and I almost choke on it. ‘What—?’

‘Now look what you’ve done,’ Dante says, though I can hear the laughter in his voice. ‘You’ve almost killed the man by putting him in the same sentence as marriage.’

‘There’s nothing wrong with marriage,’ Aunt Netta blusters. ‘And the sooner you two realise it the better. If my Roberto were still alive, we’d show you a thing or two about what makes life worth living!’

She has both Dante and me in her sights now and I shake my head. Do we really have to do this, right, now?

‘Marriage isn’t for everyone.’ It’s my diplomatic answer, one that I hope will bring the conversation to a close, but I feel all eyes on me...on me and on Faye—or am I just being paranoid? My hand eases discreetly back to my lap. ‘But it’s certainly right for Dani and Tyler... In fact, let’s have a toast. It’s not the big day yet but there’s nothing to stop us raising a glass to the beautiful bride and groom. May their love last, and may life be kind. To Dani and Tyler.’

‘Dani and Tyler.’ Glasses are raised, cheers are made, but I get the impression my words aren’t positive enough, and Nonna’s eyeing me with far too much speculation.

Still, at least no one is badgering me openly any more.

I reach for Faye beneath the table again, but she edges away.

‘I’m just going to take a short walk.’ She lifts up her wine glass and, though her voice is pleasant enough, she won’t meet my eye as she smiles to the table. ‘See if it helps all the fabulous food go down.’

I watch her go. Her pace is steady, yet I feel she’s running. The question is, from what?

‘I’ll just go and...keep her company.’ I’m already pushing back from the table. I don’t care if it looks strange or if Dani suspects there’s something going on. I need to know she’s okay, because all my senses tell me she isn’t.

I catch her up as she reaches the opening to the pool.

‘Running away?’ I try to make it sound breezy.

She sips her wine before turning to me, her smile small. ‘Are you?’

Her eyes seem to swim in the lights of the pool, and I feel a tightness in my chest I can’t comprehend.

‘I asked you first...’

She laughs but it’s awkward, panicked, even. I close the distance between us and she straightens and turns away to look at the view beyond the pool.

‘My family are pretty full-on,’ I say softly.

Yes, blame the family, it’s so much easier than blaming yourself.

‘Si?’

She flicks me a look. Her smile is weak, her shrug too, and I can’t bear it. But what can I do, what can I say?

‘I like it,’ she says. ‘It’s nice to be part of something big, something whole. I have no one except for my father now. My parents were only children—no siblings, no cousins, no grandparents left. I sometimes wonder what it would be like to be part of something more...’

‘You really don’t; it’s a pain in the—’ I stop. It’s not the time to tease or joke or to make light of her situation. ‘I’m sorry.’

I reach for her before I can stop myself, my palm soft on her lower back as I wait for her to look at me. And when she does, my throat closes over at the sadness in her eyes. It’s all the more painful for the smile she still tries to give.

I cup her jaw, stroke her