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He winced. ‘That is not the accolade I was hoping for. So when and where did you learn to cook?’

She put the spoon down slowly. ‘I taught myself. When my mother left, I was surrounded by men who expected me to cook for them. Fortunately I loved it. I made lots of mistakes and plenty of food ended up in the bin, but after a while I started to get a lot of things right and when they turned out right I wrote them down. Why are you looking at me like that?’

‘You had no formal training?’

‘Of course not. When would I have had formal training?’ She poured milk into Luca’s cup. ‘I would have loved to go to college, to travel and spend some time with other chefs, but that was never an option.’

He gave an incredulous laugh. ‘The chef who made that brioche trained at two of the best restaurants in Italy.’

‘He probably hasn’t made as many bad batches of brioche as I have. It’s about experimenting. And it isn’t all about training. Sometimes it’s about the quality of the raw ingredients and giving the customer what they want.’

‘And what do you think my customers want?’

‘I only know about my own.’

‘Given that a high percentage of your customers come from my hotel, they’re one and the same thing,’ he drawled. ‘I’m surprised your grandfather let you run the restaurant. Cooking for him is one thing, but running a business is another. He is very traditional.’

She wished he’d remove his sunglasses. With those dark shades obscuring his eyes she couldn’t tell what he was thinking. ‘My grandmother always had a few tables on the water’s edge. Nothing fancy, but the food was always fresh and local. I suppose because she cooked for others, he was more accepting of me doing the same thing. But he does complain. He thinks I’ve turned it into something fancy.’

‘You have had a very difficult life,’ he said quietly. ‘Losing both your parents and then your brother…and yet you’ve managed to hold it all together. Not just hold it together, but you have a thriving business, a happy child and a more mellow grandfather. You didn’t repeat the pattern you saw, you created your own pattern.’

‘The way you live your life is a choice,’ Fia said. ‘I chose to copy your family, not mine.’

‘And you did that without any support. I want you to know that I do have enormous respect for what you have achieved. And I owe you an enormous apology for being so hard on you when I found out about Luca.’

‘You don’t have to apologise,’ she muttered. ‘I understand. You’re very, very focused on family. I’ve never really had that so we sort of came at the whole thing from a different place.’

His dark eyes raked her face. ‘Yes. I think we did. But we’re in the same place now and

that is the way it’s staying.’ He stood up abruptly. ‘I have a meeting that will last about an hour. Then I’ve asked Gina to take Luca so that we can have some time alone.’

Alone sounded terrifying to Fia. Alone meant concentrating really hard on not showing him how she felt. Respect, she could take, especially from a man like Santo who didn’t give it readily. Pity didn’t interest her.

‘Why don’t we take Luca with us? Make it a family day out?’

Santo paused in the process of putting on his jacket. ‘I was thinking more along the lines of something more romantic.’

‘Romantic?’ She managed a light-hearted laugh. ‘Really, you don’t need to do that. I appreciate the thought but it isn’t necessary.’

‘It is necessary. Apart from your wedding dress, I haven’t bought you a single thing since we got together. You’re my wife. You deserve the best.’

Oh, God, she was an embarrassment to him.

Why hadn’t that occurred to her before?

She was married to Santo Ferrara and she was dressing the same way she’d always dressed. Mortified that he’d had to broach the topic in such a way, she caved in and nodded quickly.

‘Yes, of course. Let’s go shopping. Whatever you think.’

‘Finish your breakfast. I’ll pick you up in an hour. It’s important that we spend time alone together. And you—’ he bent to kiss Luca’s dark hair ‘—are having a day with Gina. Be good.’

With a final glance at Fia, he strode off the terrace towards the hotel, leaving her staring after him in despair.

‘He wants to spend the day with me because he thinks he ought to. And he’s going to buy me clothes so that I look right and don’t embarrass him in public. Your Auntie Dani has already told me he hates shopping so the fact that he’s determined to take me must mean I’m not just a bit embarrassing but extra embarrassing.’ Fia handed Luca another piece of brioche. ‘Name one good thing about our relationship apart from you. Go one. Just one.’

‘Sex,’ Luca chortled helpfully and Fia gave a moan of despair and dropped her head into her hands.

* * *

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