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Keelin admitted ruefully, ‘Starving.’
He held out his hand but before she took it she said, ‘This morning, you said you had something to say to me too—what was it?’
For a moment Gianni had to think back. And then he remembered. He’d planned on gently letting her know that physical intimacy didn’t equate to emotional intimacy. But she’d assured him pretty comprehensively that she was under no such illusions. And why didn’t that mollify him now?
He just said, ‘It was nothing important.’
She looked at him again for a long moment but then something cleared in those mesmerising green eyes and she took his hand, and Gianni wrapped his fingers around hers. He forced down a burgeoning sense of lightness and led her out to the patio where Lucia bustled around them serving up a delicious lunch and he initiated a conversation that came nowhere near the tumultuous events of the morning, or the significance of Keelin’s return.
CHAPTER NINE
‘WHERE ARE WE GOING?’
It was after lunch and Gianni was driving the jeep. He glanced at her and then back to the road. ‘I thought it’d be good to get out, show you around a bit.’
Keelin rested her head back against the seat. For some reason she was perfectly happy to just wait and see where they ended up. Since she’d returned to the villa, a kind of weight had lifted off her shoulders.
She’d changed into a plain but pretty green sundress and the warm Umbrian air tickled her bare skin, the scent of grass and flowers heady. Gianni was wearing worn jeans, and a polo shirt, and every time Keelin looked at him she got a fresh jolt of lust, and surprise, to see him dressed down like this.
He said a little abruptly then, ‘Where’s your engagement ring?’
Keelin immediately flushed guiltily and looked at her hand, bare but for the wedding band. ‘Back at the villa. I, ah, forgot to put it on.’
He looked at her, eyes narrowed. ‘It’s not really you, is it?’
Keelin’s belly somersaulted. ‘Not really, no.’
He looked back to the road. ‘I’ll get you a new one.’
She shook her head quickly, disturbed by the thought of being presented with a ring she might actually like. ‘No, it’s fine. The wedding band is enough.’
Gianni sent her a dry look. ‘A woman who won’t accept jewellery?’
Keelin scowled at him but he took her hand in his and lifted it to his mouth, pressing a kiss against the back of it, making the pulse between her legs throb.
And then he said with a twitch to his gorgeous mouth, ‘You’re not like any woman I’ve ever met, Keelin O’Connor Delucca.’
The fact that those two names together didn’t invoke revulsion was yet another blow against Keelin’s armour of defences. Damn him.
* * *
A few hours later Keelin was huffing and puffing inelegantly as she followed Gianni up the hilly street in the stunning mountaintop town of Montefalco. When he stopped she saw that they were in a huge picturesque square. He truly was the quintessential Italian hunk, effortlessly drawing attention from women passing them by.
He turned and looked at her. ‘Okay?’
Keelin felt flushed in the fading early-evening sunshine. ‘Fine,’ she said, more tetchily than she intended. Not liking how aware she was of other women’s interest in Gianni.
He took her hand and tugged her with him across the square. ‘We’ll have dinner over here.’
They’d spent the afternoon looking around the dozens of stunning frescoed medieval churches in the town which Gianni had told her was nicknamed ‘the balcony of Umbria’ because of its spectacular views.
The small restaurant had fairy lights twinkling through the bushes that shielded it from the square discreetly. Pretty tables and chairs were under an awning. A tall man came out and greeted Gianni profusely with grand Italian gesticulations and appreciative looks in Keelin’s direction.
They were led to a table that was both tucked away from the others and yet had great views of the rolling Umbrian plains. Gianni broke from his conversation with his friend to ask her, ‘Do you mind if I order for you? There’s some regional specialities you might like.’
Keelin shrugged as she pulled on a light cardigan she’d had wrapped around her waist. She was more seduced by this charming Gianni than she liked to admit. ‘I’ll eat almost anything. Except snails.’
She also didn’t like to think of how close she’d come to being back in Rome, alone and feeling a hollow sense of victory.
