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But his expression was strangely shut down. Scarlett didn’t understand why he seemed so tense at the idea. But whatever the reason, she knew he didn’t want to do it. She sensed he’d been pushed as far as he’d be pushed. But he remained stubbornly silent, forcing Scarlett to be the one to give his family the bad news.
Biting her lip, she forced herself to say apologetically, “Thank you, but we want to be wed as quickly as possible—”
“All the more reason to do it here,” Joanne pointed out. “What is the point of getting married in Rome? It will just take longer to get all the paperwork done. Here, it will be quicker because Giuseppe is mayor—”
“Sì, mayor,” he repeated proudly.
“And he’ll make sure all the necessary documentation is completed as fast as humanly possible. You’re both American citizens now—” Joanne glanced humorously at her stepson, as if to say What a fool you were to trade away this beautiful country “—so no banns are necessary.”
“Please!” Maria clutched Scarlett’s hands. “I’ll arrange a beautiful wedding for you. It’ll be good practice for planning my own. Why shouldn’t you get married here? It’s your home now, too, Scarlett!”
Put that way, it was impossible to refuse. Scarlett looked desperately at Vin.
He scowled. “I have connections in Rome. It can be done quickly enough.”
Giuseppe snorted. “Amid strangers! What about your family? What about your bride?”
Vin’s jaw tightened. “I don’t—”
“Please,” Scarlett whispered.
He stared at her for a long moment, then sighed.
“Va bene.” His shoulders looked tense. “We will have our wedding here, since my bride wishes it.” As Maria clapped her hands together with joy, he added fiercely, “But I must be in Rome within five days.”
“No problem!” Joanne said.
“Easy!” Giuseppe said.
“You will see,” Maria chortled. “I bet we can do it in three!”
Vin’s expression said he feared three days would last an eternity. Why? Scarlett wondered. What could possibly be making him so tense? Was it cold feet? Had he changed his mind about wanting to marry her? The thought caused a shiver of nervousness to go through her. Because she was starting to not hate the idea of marrying him.
“Perhaps it’s not an entirely bad idea,” Vin murmured, looking down at her. His arms tightened. “If we’re staying, that means no more driving tonight. Which means,” he whispered, “I can take you to bed now.”
Fire flashed through her, and she almost tottered on her borrowed strappy sandals. Her heart was pounding so hard and fast she felt light-headed.
Her whole world shrank down to the sensation of his body near hers, his hand supporting her arm. Did he intend to seduce her? No, surely not. She was eight and a half months pregnant. Not exactly a sexpot. She wanted him. Definitely. But she was surely imagining the dark fierce smolder in his eyes.
And part of her was afraid of what would happen if he made love to her. How much of her soul he might take, along with her body...
“My fiancée is tired,” he said abruptly. “I am sorry, but we must cut our night short.”
“Of course, of course,” came the chorus around them in English and Italian. Everyone looked at her belly and smiled. Everyone loved a pregnant woman.
“Where can I take her to rest?”
“Follow me,” his father said, waving them along. He took them through the beautiful villa, up the sweeping stairs to the quieter second floor, then triumphantly through double doors to a huge, luxurious bedroom.
“But there’s only one bed,” Scarlett whispered to Vin in consternation. His father heard her and chuckled.
“There is no reason for you to pretend you do not share a bedroom,” he said with a laugh, eyeing her belly. “We are not so old-fashioned as to need that deception. Or so stupid as to believe it! Do not be embarrassed. We wish you only to be comfortable.”
Refusing to meet Vin’s eyes, Scarlett said stiltedly, “Perhaps other rooms could be found—”
“Yes, of course.” His father nodded, but before she could sigh with relief, he finished, “The villa is full of party guests, but we did find rooms for your bodyguards. I appreciate your concern for them,” he said approvingly. “You’ve chosen the right woman, Vincenzo. So thoughtful and kind. Look.” He nodded toward her duffel bag and his sleek designer suitcase, stacked neatly on the closet floor. “Our staff already unpacked your clothes for you. We were hoping to convince you to stay. So now there is nothing—” his eyebrows wiggled suggestively “—to prevent you both from having a good night’s sleep.”
