“Fabiana,” I murmur, overwhelmed by the feelings I have for this woman.
“Until tomorrow.”
I straighten up, my heart full of her. I watch as she pulls her car from the parking space. She throws me one final smile with a wave before she drives off, and I watch her leave.
I never expected to feel this way about any woman, let alone Fabiana Fontaine. But now that I do, whatever the thing she’s keeping from me is, I’m determined to make her mine.
Chapter 25
Valentina
“Nona, it’s so good to see you!” I rush across the living room floor and pull my grandmother into a hug, breathing in her familiar lavender and vanilla perfume. The late afternoon sunlight streams through the lace curtains, illuminating the dust motes dancing in the familiar surroundings.
It's so strange to think that when I left this house, I thought Max was nothing more than anover-privileged, immature man-child, and now I’m falling for the person he really is, the most wonderful man I’ve met.
What a difference a week can make.
“Valentina, my darling girl,” she says as she gives me a squeeze. “Why are you home? Is everything all right?”
“I came to see you, Nona. How's your ankle?” I sink into the familiar worn cushions of our old sofa, the springs protesting. The contrast between this humble living room, with its faded family photos and Nona's knitting basket, and the palace's gilded opulence, is starker now, more than ever.
“It was only a sprain. I'm doing very well. Hobbling a bit, of course, and that old cane of your grandfather’s has come in very handy.” She gestures at a cane with a brass handle shaped like a pheasant, leaning up against the sofa.
“A cane?” I don't like the thought of my grandmother having to use a cane to get around. But she's a lot like me. She's tough. Strong.
“Should you elevate it? Ice it? Is it swollen?” I ask as I peer down at her feet.
“Stop fussing, Valentina.”
“I'm allowed to fuss. You're my grandmother,” I protest.
“Fiddlesticks.”
“Nona,” I warn. “It’s my job to care about you.”
“I told you not to come home just for me. I'm in very good hands. Rudolf has been taking good care of me. Not that I need taking care of, of course, but a little extra help is always welcome.”
“It’s nice that Mr. Beckman has been looking in on you,” I say, and her face lights up at the mention of his name.
“He’s just splendid. Very kind.”
“And a good dancer, apparently.”
“You might think I’m an old woman, my dear, but there’s still life in me yet. I want to enjoy my autumn years.”
A dull ache blooms in my chest at the thought of a world without her in it. “Don’t talk like that.”
“Like what? I’m old. It happens. But that doesn’t mean I want to stop living.”
I smile. “You sound like Max.”
“Oh? How are things with the prince?”
“He’s good.” My cheeks begin to heat, completely giving me away.
Nona raises her brows at me. “I knew it! There was romance in San Fiorenzo!”
“Maybe,” I concede, and she claps her hands together like she’s an excited seal. “But it's very early days,” I add quickly.
