“What does ‘ah’ mean?”
“Does your nona dance with all her neighbors?”
She snickers. “I don't think so.”
“Then perhaps they were on a date?”
“A date?” she guffaws. “Not likely.”
I shoot her a sideways glance. “Because she's seventy-one?”
“Well, yes, that, but also because Mr. Beckman’s our neighbor.”
“And neighbors don’t date.”
She opens her mouth to respond, and then closes it again, her eyebrows pulled together.
“I might be wrong,” I say.
“You are,” she says with more confidence than I suspect she’s feeling, by the look on her face.
I slow the car as we drive past an ancient Medieval town wall, crumbling but still intact, and enter a quaint village. The car bumps over the cobble stone streets, passed the solid stone buildings, and I spot a little café with a green and white striped awning through the rain.
My belly grumbles, right on cue.
“Breakfast?” I offer, and Fabiana grins, nodding her head.
“I haven’t eaten today. I’m so hungry.”
I back the car into a parking space and reach across her to open the glove box.
“What’s that?” she asks as I pull out a plastic bag.
By way of answering, I slap on a baseball cap and a pair of sunglasses. She takes in my disguise, and snort laughs, instantly throwing her hand over her mouth, her eyes dancing.
“What?” I ask, a smile busting out across my face at the sound. “Nice snort, by the way. Very ladylike.”
“Snorting is perfectly ladylike, thank you. And no Hawaiian shirt this time, Your Royal Highness?” she teases.
I shake my head, smiling at the memory of how I’d turned up in the Malveauxian town of Monteluce in aHawaiian shirt and fake mustache to visit Amelia. “Hey! That was a great disguise,” I protest.
“Oh, of course it was. Absolutely no one knew who you were,” she deadpans.
Sadly for me, Amelia, and Ethan, everyonedidknow who I was.
“So, was it the yellow Ferrari that gave you away do you think? Or the fact you looked like an off-duty prince in a Hawaiian shirt and fake mustache?”
I laugh, enjoying our easy banter. Her wit, once so acerbic and judgmental, is now warm and teasing, and as we sit in the car in the water-drenched town, the rain drumming on the roof, I can’t imagine wanting to be anywhere else but here with her now.
“Okay, so maybe that wasn’t my finest hour, but when you’re recognized almost everywhere you go, you’ve got to at least try to fly under the radar. Hence the disguise.” I hold up the plastic bag.
She throws her gaze over my cap and glasses. “Sunglasses on the wettest day of the year.” She shakes her head.
“Just the cap?”
“Just the cap.”
“Here.” I pull another baseball cap from the bag and position it on her head, and she pulls her ponytail through the back. She’s giving off a cute and sexy girl next door vibe, and if it wasn’t for my belly reminding me I haven’t eaten today…well, as much as I want to kiss her right now, I can’t.
