He grins at me as he steps forward. He was there two days ago, in the study, when I came to discuss terms. He’s easy to recognize. He's ridiculously handsome, like a rugged Italian model stepped out of a cologne ad, with that type of crooked, dimpled grin that should be illegal. He has the kind of charm that feels dangerous because it’s so casual. He’s dressed with quiet elegance again, just like that day in his study.
But I know what he is. What he has to be. Giovanni wouldn’t keep soft men close. Beneath all that polished charm, he’s hard. Like Giovanni. Except he pales in comparison to Giovanni, my husband. The word has some quality to it.
I smile at him, feeling the tightness in my chest ease. He's pleasant, and I'm grateful for that.
His grin widens. “You look like you were made to be a bride.”
I smile till my cheeks hurt.
He looks past me briefly as the last of the men exit, then adds “If you’re wondering why they looked at you like that, “it’s not you. It’s him.” He jerks his chin at Giovanni. “They didn’t think he’d marry this soon. Not when the seat of power is still warm.”
I nod, appreciating the explanation.
Tomasso chuckles as he leans slightly toward me. “I’m glad he has someone now, other than me. He pretends he doesn’t care, but the man’s a moody bastard without companionship.”
I glance at Giovanni who's glaring holes into Tomasso.
“He may say we only work together,” he continues, his eyes gleaming, “but he’s my brother, we share an unbreakable bond.”
“Go to hell, Tomasso. Leave my wife alone,” Giovanni says as he steps in, his hand lightly touching the small of my back. Slight contact, but it jolts through me.
Tomasso laughs wickedly, as though he's enjoying himself a bit too much. Before turning to leave, he signs at me, You’re doing great.
Giovanni watches him go, his brow arched. He tells someone outside the door offhandedly to call Maria in.
I blink. I hadn't expected that. Does everyone here know how to sign?
I don’t have much time to dwell on it. Maria arrives shortly. I recognize her from earlier. She’d been among the house staff. She’s soft-spoken and small, maybe in her mid-thirties, with gentle eyes and a posture that always looks like she’s apologizing for taking up space. I feel an immediate sense of kinship with her.
Giovanni introduces her as my personal maid. A maid? For me? It's absurd. I want to protest that I don’t need one, but I’m far too tired to argue.
I yawn, unable to resist it.
Giovanni turns to me and smiles gently. He signs, You’re tired. You should rest.
I nod.
Go with Maria. She'll show you to your room. I’ll join you shortly. I have business.
He leans kisses my forehead, and it nearly undoes me. It’s so tender, I melt a little.
I leave with Maria, and as she leads me up the stairs, I feel impossibly bereft, like I’ve left something essential behind.
Maria leads me up to the room he’s chosen for me. It isn’t grand. It's tucked into the side of the estate that overlooks the gardens. It’s the kind of space that says someone thought about what I would like—Giovanni. He knows I like gardening. He'd seen me there when he came to me at my father's estate. The thought put behind it touches me far more than I care to admit.
I look around. The walls are a soft blue-gray, the bed large and dressed in linens the color of pale smoke. Bookshelves line one wall, already filled with classics and poetry. There’s a smallreading nook by the window. I've already found my space, but Dio, Giovanni is stealing my heart. There's a record player that sits in one corner. The open windows filter in the smell of flowers. I inhale slowly, letting the scent fill me, tether me.
My belongings have already been unpacked. My dresses hang in the closet. My notebooks are stacked neatly on the desk. Everything is already arranged with startling efficiency.
I lower myself to sit on the edge of the bed, stunned. This is moving way too fast. I can barely catch my breath.
Maria gestures. I realize I’ve been sitting still, staring. Then she signs, Shall I draw a bath?
I nod, dazed that she, too, can sign. Then I tap my hearing aid. I can hear. You can speak if you like.
She smiles softly and leaves to draw the bath.
I stand and move around the room slowly, taking in everything with a quiet wonder.
