Just as she made to step away, Matthew and the ladies entered the hallway from the door closest to the table. Matthew’s face dropped in amazement.
Sarah beamed. ‘Ladies, can we interest you in a little something to nibble on?’
Matthew’s wide-set eyes and killer smile caught her off-guard. Brushing past her he whispered, ‘How the hell did this all happen in twenty minutes?’
She raised an eyebrow. ‘It’s what I do.’
Looking her up and down, then casting a glance back to the women who were gleefully milling around the table, laughing and joking, he said, ‘You are phenomenal. Out of this world.’ He pulled her close and dropped a slower than usual kiss on her forehead. As he began to pull away, Matthew hesitated for a moment. His grip on her upper arms tightened as Matthew’s endlessly green eyes searched Sarah’s. Reason, hope, permission. He wanted it all validated. He held her eye contact for a few beats, then brought her hand to his chest. ‘Feel that?’ Sarah nodded through the pulsating rhythm. ‘You did that, just now.’
Matthew couldn’t have known that Sarah’s feet seemed to evaporate beneath her, but he steeled himself all the same. With a bolstering breath, he slowly dropped his lips to meet hers, and he felt Sarah rise on her toes to meet him . . . before the moment was broken by a lady looking for a restroom.
As if in slow motion, Matthew reluctantly released his grip on Sarah, and a fresh breeze flushed between them. They left the moment there, allowing the tension to slowly dissipate as they returned to business. With a smile, Matthew pointed the guest in the right direction as Sarah made her way to the table.
Clearing her throat, and through a new light-headedness, Sarah began, ‘Ladies, welcome to Convento delle Viole. We are so delighted to have you with us.’ A low trill emanated from the group. ‘In our home we have one rule: everyone eatstogether. So, please, join us at the table. Help yourselves and enjoy. You are now part ofourfamily, and here, family comes first.’
Taking a seat at the end of the table, Sarah outstretched her hand in Matthew’s direction, coaxing him to come sit beside her. His face full of admiration, he joined her. Lowering his lips to her left ear, he asked, ‘Where’s the food order?’
‘Someone somewhere has it.’
He reached for the moka and began to pour them both a coffee. ‘A double, was it?’
‘At a minimum.’ She reached for a slice of sourdough and whispered under her breath, ‘Once they’re upstairs, I’ll write you a grocery list.’
‘I’ll head off right away.’
‘Lunch will be amazing. Just wait.’ Sarah turned her attention to a guest across the table and engaged her in some light conversation.
Matthew looked on in awe. Sarah was the right person to bring on this journey. She had been proving that from day one in different ways. But today, with the way he caught his heart pulsating, he knew they were onto something. Somethingveryspecial.
Maybecomplicatedwasn’t the dangerous liability Matthew had feared.
ventitré
‘Allora, ripeti,’ Margherita said with the flick of a wrist, as if she were conducting a choir. ‘Hai progetti . . .’
‘Hai pro-getti . . .’Sarah repeated.
‘. . .per il . . .’
‘. . .per il . . .’Sarah knew she stumbled over the ‘r’, and winced.
‘. . .fine settimana?’
‘. . .fine sett-imana?’
Margherita was pacing the space at the foot of Matthew and Sarah’s bed, while Sarah sat at the desk. ‘Tutta la frase!’
Sarah steeled herself and closed her eyes to improve her concentration. ‘Hai progetti . . . per il . . . fine settimana?’
‘Brava!’ Margherita beamed. ‘Adesso, più veloce e meno staccata!’ Her wrist flicked again.
Sarah wasn’t sure she could go any faster, let alone worry about the rhythm. She tried her best, and besides the pesky rolled ‘r’, she landed the fluency. Margherita made a note on her pad, then raised her eyebrows. ‘E, allora?’
‘Allora. . . what?’ Sarah asked, confused.
‘The answer to my question.’
‘Oh. Do I have plans this weekend?’
