• • •
Luca shifted his weight and adjusted his tie, again. With one ear he listened to Stefano, his lawyer friend, with the other he waited for the sound of Sophia’s footsteps on the stairs. Isabella had insisted that Sophia make an entrance, but he didn’t appreciate being kept in the dark. She was his wife, damn it; he had a right to see her first.
Isabella had called him late in the afternoon to say that their shopping trip had taken longer than expected. So Sophia was going to get ready at Isabella’s place and they’d see him there. When he’d asked to speak with his wife, she’d laughed and asked if he thought she’d kidnapped her. But after the tight-lipped silence he’d endured through dinner the previous night, he’d wanted to make sure Sophia was happy with that arrangement and hadn’t been coerced by Isabella’s forceful personality. Sophia had assured him that she’d had a great day and would see him later. As she’d handed the phone back to Isabella, Luca could have sworn he heard his wife giggle.
He’d rushed to get ready and was the first to arrive. Instead of being able to see his bride, however, Isabella had insisted that Sophia be left alone to rest.
Enough was enough. He wanted his wife at his side. This was, after all, why he married her. The little voice in his head laughed, but then went silent as a noise at the top of the stairs drew all eyes upward.
Luca’s heart fibrillated for a moment before racing. His mouth went dry and he pulled at his tie again, trying to get more air into his lungs. Sophia glided down the stairs, stopping halfway. Even from a distance he could see how the green of her dress brought out the amazing emerald color of her eyes. The gown was a mix of brocade and satin, wrapped around her body like a ribbon. Her delicate shoulders and collarbone were exposed by the strapless dress. And with her long, golden hair pulled up, the graceful column of her neck called out for his kisses. He shifted again, but this time to disguise the growing pressure in his trousers. Sophia looked as though she’d been gift wrapped. The perfect present.
“Prego.” You are welcome, Isabella murmured by his right shoulder before she ascended the stairs to meet Sophia halfway.
Isabella tapped a spoon against her glass, calling the attention of those few who weren’t already staring at Sophia. “Thank you all for coming tonight. I would like to introduce you to my new friend, and Luca’s bride, Sophia Castellioni. Sophia is from London, so we all get to practice our English tonight.” Isabella’s announcement was met with clapping and a chorus of congratulations in a mix of English and Italian. Stefano grabbed his hand to shake it, but Luca couldn’t take his eyes from Sophia.
Isabella whispered something into his wife’s ear. Sophia smiled and walked down the remaining stairs, stopping on the last one. He rushed over to her and took her hand in his, placing a kiss on the back of it. Because if he kissed her lips, it would take at least four men to pull him away from her.
“You are so beautiful,” he managed to say past a lump in his throat.
“Grazie,” she replied with another of her devastating smiles. She leaned toward him and he inhaled her intoxicating perfume. Her warm breath caressed his ear as she whispered, “Let’s party.”
• • •
Sophia sipped her Prosecco and listened to her husband, his hand resting at the small of her back, discuss the latest political scandal with several other party-goers. Every couple of minutes he’d lean down and ask if she was okay, if she needed anything, or if there was something she wanted to add to the conversation. He was the perfect husband, attentive and caring.
Isabella topped up Sophia’s wine glass again, and soon she was clinging to Luca, glad when his arm went around her shoulders and she could lean into his strong body. She glanced at him out of the corner of her eye, still somewhat amazed that she was with him. When she’d come down the stairs, Luca had been the only person she’d noticed. With his black suit, snow-white shirt, and crimson tie, he looked suave and incredibly sexy. Her husband. In name only—for now.
“It is warm in here. Shall we step out onto the terrace?” he whispered in her ear as the lawyer in their group droned on about some legislative fiasco that had recently been reported.
She nodded her consent, and Luca made their excuses and led her out the patio doors. Potted Lemon trees stood sentinel against the balustrade. Laden with scented blossoms, they glowed from the fairy lights twined in their branches. A bubbling fountain masked the sound of a hundred conversations in the house. They were meters from a crowd but felt alone. Sophia took a deep breath. This was romance. She didn’t know why she’d avoided it all her life. It was exquisite, addictive. A shiver swept through her.
“Are you cold?” Before she could respond, Luca peeled off his jacket and wrapped it around her shoulders, then pulled her against him. His heart thudded under her ear, and she couldn’t help snuggling further into his embrace, her arms going around his waist so her body was flush against his.
“I’m good,” she replied, her voice refusing to rise above a whisper.
“Did you have a fun day? I worried that Isabella would be too controlling, especially when you did not come home.”
“No, we had a great time. I like her. I’m sorry for the things I said last night. I should have believed you.”
“Non è importante, as long as you are happy now.” He pressed a kiss to her forehead.
She was happy.
“Luca, Sophia, some of the guests are leaving and would like to express their well wishes to you before they go.” Isabella’s voice barely penetrated the haze of bliss.
“We will come in one more minute,” Luca replied as if he, too, was reluctant to let go of this moment.
With a sigh she felt as much as heard, Luca led her back into the house for what became an hour of cheek-kissing, hugging, congratulatory good-byes. Finally there was just her, Luca, Isabella, and her husband Dante, left in the entranceway.
Wine glasses that had been abandoned or forgotten littered almost every flat surface. Napkins were tucked into crevices and plates were stacked in the oddest locations. The white hydrangea blossoms that had earlier stood proudly in their glass vases now drooped their heads in exhaustion. Yet a strange energy zipped through Sophia’s veins. She didn’t want the night to end.
“Come, let us sit in the snug. I think it escaped the worst of the devastation.” Isabella led them to a room at the back of the house, off the kitchen. Two comfy-looking sofas were arranged in a V-shape so all could enjoy the view of the moonlight garden through the floor-to-ceiling windows.