I laugh again as I watch her nuzzle Toffee, my chest filling with warmth. Only a few short days ago, her holding Toffee enraged me. Now? Now, watching how easily she interacts with my dog makes me all the more drawn to her.
Don’t they say dogs are great judges of character? Fabiana sure seems to have Toffee’s stamp of approval—quite literally, all over her skirt.
“Oh, no, Fab! Your skirt!” Pippa exclaims.
To my surprise, Fabiana looks down at her skirt and simply shrugs, not appearing the least bit concerned. “It comes with the canine territory. I had dogs growing up, so I understand.”
Pippa gasps. “But your skirt is ruined!”
“It's just a skirt, Pippa.”
I'm so used to women preening themselves around me, always trying to look like their idea of perfection. Fabiana is a breath of fresh air.
“Where’s my room, please, Max? I’ll go and unpack my things, change out of these clothes into something more appropriate for the country.”
“I'll take you there. You too, Pippa.”
“Thanks, sir, but I think I might take a little wander around the gardens first. I thought I saw a funny-looking baby goat when we arrived,” Pippa replies.
“That’ll be one of Dolly’s kids. She gave birth a few weeks before I was last here. She’s a very proud mum of new triplets,” I say.
“Triplets? Oh, how cute!” Pippa replies. “What sort of goats are they?”
“Shami goats, which is why they have white faces and those long black ears,” I reply.
Pippa’s eyes are bright. “You could use them in a video, Fab. People adore baby goats.”
“Great idea,” Fabiana replies.
“I’ll catch up with you both later. It’s baby goat time!” Pippa bounces away and disappears around the house toward the stables in search of Dolly.
Fabiana arches a brow as we make our way into the house. “Dolly?”
“Dolly Baa-ton,” I say.
Her eyes dance with amusement. “Did you name her?”
“One of the kids from the program a couple of years back. You should hear what we’ve called her triplets.”
“Let me guess.” She taps her chin. “One of them has got to be Baa-bara.”
“Amateur hour.” I shake my head. “They’re Taylor-bleat, Rihabaa, and Ariana Goat.”
“All female pop stars? I’m not sure if that’s utterly adorable, or completely hilarious.”
“Couldn’t it be both?” I whistle for Toffee, and she bursts into the house before us, immediately clambering up the stairs as though she knows where we’re headed.
Moving inside the house, Fabiana looks around at the arched doorways, the terracotta-painted walls, and the high beamed ceiling. “This is just lovely,” she exclaims, and sunshine blooms in my chest.
“It’s my favorite place,” I say simply.
“I can see why.”
“It’s a lot less grand than the palace in Villadorata. That’s something I like about it. Which suitcase is yours?” I gesture at a couple of suitcases that have been placed by the wall.
She raises her eyebrows. “Don’t you have people for that?”
“I’m pretty sure I’m capable of carrying a suitcase up a flight of stairs.”
