The Bride's Awakening - By Kate Hewitt Page 0,33

is a wise man.’

‘He loved my mother,’ Ana countered a bit defiantly.

‘And yet he recommends you marry me?’ There was only the faintest questioning lilt to Vittorio’s voice and he smiled, leaning back once more, utterly confident. He arched an eyebrow. ‘Why are you not interested in love, then?’

‘I was in love once,’ Ana said after a moment. She saw shock ripple across Vittorio’s features before it was replaced by his usual bland composure. She wondered at her own answer. She didn’t think she’d actually loved Roberto, but he had hurt her. ‘I decided not to experience it again.’

‘This man—he hurt you?’

‘Yes. He…he decided he…’ She faltered, not wanting to spell it out. I never thought of you that way. How could I? She’d left Roberto utterly cold, and Ana felt cold herself just remembering it. At least Vittorio desired her, to some degree. She could not deceive herself that he felt even an ounce of the overwhelming attraction she experienced with him, but at least he felt something. He wouldn’t have kissed her otherwise. He wouldn’t have responded to her own clumsy kiss.

That, at least, was something. Something small, pathetically so, perhaps, but it was more than Ana had ever had with a man before.

‘We need not discuss it,’ Vittorio said, covering her hand briefly with his own. Ana heard a hardness in his voice and his eyes flashed darkly. ‘That man is in the past. We are forging something new, something good.’

‘You sound so sure.’

‘I am.’ Ana just shook her head, still too overwhelmed by the speed with which these negotiations had been conducted. ‘Why is it so difficult?’ Vittorio asked. His voice remained bland, reasonable, yet Ana thought she heard the bite of impatience underneath. He’d made up his mind ages ago; he’d decided he wanted a wife and so he immediately went out and acquired one. For Vittorio, without the complications of any emotions, it was easy. Simple. ‘There is no one else now,’ he asked sharply, ‘is there?’

She looked up, surprised. ‘You know there isn’t.’

‘Then surely I am the best candidate.’

‘If I even want a candidate,’ she returned, her tone sharpening too. ‘Perhaps living alone would be better.’

Vittorio’s lips twisted wryly. ‘Ouch.’

Ana’s own mouth curved in a reluctant smile; even now he could make her laugh. ‘What’s your favourite colour?’ she asked suddenly, and Vittorio raised his brows.

‘Blue.’

‘Do you like to read?’

‘Paperback thrillers, my secret weakness.’ He leaned back, seeming to enjoy this little exchange. Ana searched her mind for more questions; she should have dozens, hundreds, yet in the face of Vittorio’s sexy little smile her mind was blanking horribly.

‘Do you like dogs?’

‘Yes, but not cats.’

‘What food do you like?’

‘Seafood. Chocolate. I keep a bar of dark chocolate in the kitchen freezer for my own personal use.’ He was still smiling that incredible little smile that melted Ana’s insides like that bar of dark chocolate left out in the sun.

‘What food could your mother never get you to eat?’

His smile faltered for the merest of seconds, barely more than a flash, yet Ana saw it. Felt it. ‘Broccoli.’ He loosened his collar with one finger. ‘Now I’m almost embarrassed.’

‘For not liking broccoli?’ Ana returned, smiling too. ‘Surely you have more secrets than that.’

Vittorio’s lips twitched even as his eyes darkened. ‘A few.’

She thought about asking other questions. What makes your expression change like that, darkening as if the sun has disappeared? What memories are you hiding? How many lovers have you had? Why do you think love is destructive? She swallowed, forcing them away, knowing that now was not the time. ‘Tell me something about you that I’d never guess.’

‘I play the trombone.’

She laughed aloud, the sound incredulous and merry. ‘Really?’

Vittorio nodded solemnly. ‘You had to take music lessons at school, and the trombone was the only instrument left in the music cupboard.’

‘Were you any good?’

‘Awful. I sounded like a dying sheep. My music teacher begged me to stop eventually, and I played football instead, thank God.’

Ana pressed her lips together against another laugh, and shook her head a little bit. Don’t make me fall in love with you. She pushed the thought aside. ‘If you could go anywhere or do anything, what would it be?’

His little smile widened into something almost feral, his eyes glinting in the candlelight. ‘Marry you.’

Her heart leaped and she shook her head. ‘Be serious.’

‘I am.’

‘Only because I tick the right boxes.’

‘I have a lot of boxes.’

‘Just when did you decide I was such a suitable candidate?’ Ana asked.

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