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Hope managed a small smile in return. “Martina said everyone knew, but I thought she was exaggerating.”
The man shrugged. “Gossip like that spreads fast. I am Giuseppe, Marco’s cousin, and you are Hope, Luciano’s American girlfriend.”
He took her hand and brought it to his lips. The kiss lingered just one second longer than strict courtesy allowed. Letting her hand lower, but not releasing it, he looked her over from head to foot in a manner that made her blush. “Bellisima!” And he kissed his fingertips in a gesture of obvious approval.
Most beautiful. At least someone thought she was more than a stick of furniture. She smiled again, blushing more intensely with shyness and pleasure. “Thank you.”
“Ah this shy little smile, this blush, it is most charming. Combined with your loveliness, it is easy to see what has my friend so enthralled.”
“Is he your friend?” she asked, not remembering any mention of a Giuseppe DeBreco. But then she hardly could have met all of Luciano’s friends in a few short days.
Giuseppe’s lips curved in the smile of an angel. “Of course.”
Nevertheless, she tugged at her hand. He let go with a comical look of regret and she found herself grinning at him.
“You are inside the house for a reason?” he asked. “Perhaps you wish to protect such beautiful pale skin from the harsh rays of our Sicilian sun?”
“Something like that.” She wasn’t about to admit to a perfect stranger that the sight of Luciano with his old girlfriend had sent her running.
“Then come, I will get you a drink and keep you company in the sala. You are a guest of my family. You must be entertained.”
No longer feeling on the verge of tears, she more than willingly followed the attractive man who wanted her company, not that of some other woman. Her conscience tried to tell her that Luciano had been with Marco when Zia had approached him, but she dismissed it. She was in no mood to give him the benefit of the doubt.
Once in the sala, Giuseppe went to the minibar against one wall. “I will get you a drink now.”
She was expecting something innocuous like lemonade, but he opened a bottle of champagne from the small fridge behind the minibar.
“We’ll toast my friend’s capture by the beautiful American.”
“He’s not exactly caught.” But she took the glass of champagne he offered and sipped obediently.
Giuseppe mocked her words with his eyes. “You were measured for a wedding gown.”
She choked on her champagne. When she could breathe normally, she said, “You’re right. Gossip does spread fast.”
He shrugged.
“Just for the record,” she said, feeling more militant by the mouthful of champagne, “Luciano and I are not engaged.”
“Ah, so there is still hope for me,” Giuseppe said with exaggerated delight, making her giggle. “Do you wish to listen to music, perhaps watch some television?”
“Maybe some music, but you don’t have to stay here and entertain me. I’m very adept at keeping my own company.”
He looked scandalized by the very thought. “I am a gentleman. I would never leave a lady to her own devices in the home of my family.”
He really was an outrageous flirt. “I don’t suppose you play gin rummy?” She had a sudden hankering for the game she played at lunch every day with her friend and co-worker, Edward.
“I am better at poker than gin rummy,” Giuseppe said with a wink.
“You know what it is?” she asked in surprise, not responding to his remark about poker.
“Yes. I have an American friend with a passion for the game. I will locate a deck of cards to amuse you if you like.”
She took another sip of champagne. “I’d like that. If you play gin rummy with me, I’ll play poker with you,” she promised.
“So, we will both indulge our vices.”
That sounded good to her. She wasn’t indulging any vices with Luciano.
Giuseppe was back within a minute, a deck of cards in his hand. While he amused her with stories of Luciano’s friends, they played a game of gin rummy. They had only played a couple of hands when it became apparent she would win. On her second glass of champagne, she was feeling warm and benevolent when she went out for the last time.
So, although she would much rather have played another game of rummy, when Giuseppe’s frown told her he did not like to lose, she offered to play poker. “I’m terrible and you’re sure to win,” she said consolingly.
He laughed out loud. “You know the Sicilian male, he does not like to lose, eh?”
“This is very true. He particularly does not like to lose his woman only to find her entertaining herself with another man.” The freezing tones of Luciano’s voice came from the doorway to the sala.
