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The chariot was, in fact, a Mercedes sedan with the Mariposa crest emblazoned on the side panel. Fastening the seatbelt around me, I sighed at the comfort.
“Why didn’t you pick me up at the airport in this?” I asked Ian as he slid into the driver’s seat.
“The Bella I knew didn’t deserve it. You, on the other hand...”
All my muscles froze in sudden panic. “What do you mean by that?”
He glanced at me as he pulled out of the courtyard and his smile was completely innocent. “Just that you’ve changed, Bella-Beast.”
I should let it go, but I couldn’t. “For better or worse?”
“Oh, definitely for the better. I could almost like this version of Bella if I didn’t know you were a cheat and a liar.”
Did he know? It seemed impossible, and yet those words were so pointedly hostile that I wanted to...
Wanted to what? Why would I care what Ian thought of me? He’d always been a pain in the butt, a dark shadow on our sunny, summer days.
Except, I remember, he was the one who first taught me to drive, in a car very much like this one. Bella and Marcus had abandoned me, and I had been sitting in the living room, feeling sorry for myself, when he’d strolled in, the usual scowl on his face.
“Stop feeling sorry for yourself,” he’d said back then. “If you smile, I’ll teach you to drive the Mercedes.”
“Really?” I’d breathed. We’d all been eyeing the new town car lustfully, but only Ian had been allowed to drive it. In fact, up to that time, I’d only driven the old farm truck, and that was exactly twice. I was moving up in the world.
“I figure you deserve some reward for having to put up with Bella and Marcus. Now stop feeling sorry for yourself and get moving.”
I’d smiled at him, with all the joy at being offered such a treat could communicate, and yet for a moment Ian had frozen, staring at me in...surprise? Shock?
“What’s wrong?” I said uneasily.
The look was gone from his dark eyes. “Nothing,” he said flatly. “Come along.”
It had been a surprising afternoon—Ian had checked his usual cynicism and unbent enough to be almost...nice. And despite my trepidation, he’d been incredibly patient with me as he let me careen around the hilly roads, and if his sneakered foot kept pressing the imaginary passenger side brake, he never said an uncharitable word.
We’d been laughing when we walked back into the house late that afternoon, only to face Bella’s accusatory glare, and I remembered my instinctive guilt. Bella despised Ian, and I had just collaborated with the enemy.
And yet all her anger had seemed directed at Ian. “Taking pity on poor Podge, are you, Ian? It won’t work.”
There were undercurrents that I hadn’t understood, but I had no intention of letting them go by. “What won’t work?” I demanded, my cheerful mood vanishing.
Bella turned all her attention to me, and her sunny smile wreathed her face. “You’ll never learn to drive a Mercedes, Podge. They’re too sensitive a piece of machinery. And it’s not as if you’re ever going to get a chance to again. You’d be better off sticking to the farm truck.”
It had been small and mean of her, but then she laughed and the darkness vanished. “Actually, Mercedes are too stodgy for you. If you’re really good, I’ll let you drive my Alfa.”
No one drove her Alfa, and I sincerely doubted I would get that honor, but I knew that was Bella’s way of apologizing, and I’d smiled back at her, ignoring her temporary spite.
And now, here I was with Ian once more, though he was the one driving. He probably didn’t remember the driving lesson from twelve years ago, when I actually thought I might...like him.
We drove in silence. I leaned back and looked at the view as we wound down to the perfect white village with its spotless houses, the deep blue of the Mediterranean a perfect contrast. I had forgotten how breathlessly beautiful it was, and I could feel my tension begin to fade. How could one feel edgy with all this gorgeousness around?
I turned and sneaked a glance at Ian. If I had to be absolutely honest, I would admit that Ian was part of the gorgeousness. He had more pronounced cheekbones than Marcus, and his dark eyes were oddly compelling. All my life I’d dreamed about Marcus, the perfect man, and now I was reluctantly coming to realize that if I had to choose between one of them, I would go for Ian the Wretch.
Fortunately, both of them were off-limits, even with Marcus’s absurd suggestion that we get engaged. He’d been right—we could simply lie about it, wait Granda out, but that was only if I was planning to stay, and I wasn’t. I was going to get out of there as soon as possible, hopefully today.
“So when are you and Marcus going to make your happy announcement?” Ian demanded out of the blue, and I jumped, startled out of my daydream. Could he read minds?
“There’s no happy announcement. I’ve told you time and time again that I need to leave, and for some reason you seem determined to keep me here, which is absurd. I’m not going to marry Marcus as a sop to Granda’s ambition, and I’ve been here long enough to say goodbye. If you had any sense, you’d drive me to the airport once we’re finished with the doctor.”
“If you had any sense, you’d stop fussing about it,” he shot back. There was a pause, and he continued in a milder voice. “If you truly have no intention of marrying Marcus, then you should at least come back and explain it to him. To both of them. Granda will sulk, but he’ll get over it. He’s gotten used to grandchildren who don’t do what he tells them to.”
