She took a deep breath and opened the door to Luca’s bedroom, their bedroom. Teresa was still downstairs, washing the entryway floor, so Sophia went over to make the massive, king-sized bed. The crisp, white sheets had been tossed back, and she imagined Luca throwing them off before rolling out of bed. Did he wear pajamas? She looked around but couldn’t see any. Did he sleep naked? The tingling in her belly started all over again.
She held Luca’s pillow against her face for a moment to breathe in the sandalwood scent he wore. As she smoothed the sheets, she bit her lip at the possibility of wrinkling them tonight. Her heart raced and the tingling spread downward to the back of her thighs.
With a last caress of the pillowcase, she turned away from the bed and the unnerving thoughts associated with it. A large walk-in wardrobe led off a hallway to the left. Luca’s clothes were neatly arranged to one side; however, there was plenty of room left for her few belongings. The small hallway opened up to a massive bathroom with a large marble tiled shower, claw-foot tub and twin sinks. The suite was very masculine and seemed to be one of the few areas of the house that reflected Luca’s taste. Thankfully, the ex-girlfriend hadn’t picked out the furniture for this room.
After moving her things, she instructed Teresa to get the yellow bedroom ready for guests. It was the nicest one in the house, apart from the master, and she was sure Luca’s mother was used to sleeping there when visiting. To keep her mind off her mother-in-law’s imminent arrival, she spent the rest of the day in the kitchen, helping Maria prepare the meal, which would be as elaborate as the one served on her first night at the villa.
Hours later, Sophia stood in front of the full-length mirror in the bathroom. She had no idea what to wear to meet her mother-in-law, finally deciding to go for a soft, blue-gray knit dress, one she’d bought during a shopping spree with Isabella. She hoped it said elegant and confident, neither of which she was feeling at the moment. Maria had assured her that Luca’s mother was a kind woman. However, Sophia wasn’t too sure how she would react to meeting Luca’s fatto compiuto bride.
Ready early, she tried to read but couldn’t concentrate on the words. When she heard the unmistakable growl of the Maserati’s engine, she moved into the front hallway where she fiddled with the flowers in the vase on the table.
The door swung open and a tall, stylish woman with short, black hair swept in. A light gray trouser suit emphasized her lean form. Once again, Sophia was out-classed. Dark brown eyes surveyed her, as one would a strange dog to ascertain whether it was friendly or not.
“Mama, this is Sophia,” Luca said, coming to stand beside his wife, his hand on her lower back. “Sophia, this is my mother, Giada Tellier.”
The Italian greeting she’d practiced all afternoon shriveled on her tongue. “I am pleased to meet you,” Sophia ventured in English. A faint pressure from Luca’s hand at her back propelled her forward, and she hugged her mother-in-law as she’d seen most Italians do when they greeted family or friends. “You must be exhausted from your trip. Would you like to freshen up before dinner, Signora Tellier?”
“You must call me Giada, or Mama,” the older woman replied. “And, yes, I would like to wash. I am in the yellow bedroom to the right, yes?” she said, already ascending the stairs. “Luca please bring up my bags—after you have properly greeted your wife, of course,” she added as Luca took Sophia into his arms.
Luca kissed Sophia, his lips gentle and coaxing. But as soon as his mother’s door closed, he pulled back. His affections really were all for show. But that didn’t stop her body from reacting to him. At least she didn’t have to fake that part. Would it be enough for tonight?
“You are very beautiful, Sophia.”
She gave him a hesitant smile and stepped out of his arms. “I’d better go check on dinner.” She needed a few minutes, and perhaps a glass of Vittore’s limoncello, to help her get through the next couple of hours. She didn’t think Giada would be as easy to fool as the guests at Isabella’s party.
She tasted the soup and asked Maria if they should add a little more spice. She’d noticed during the few meals she’d shared with Luca that he always added a few dashes of pepper sauce to the soup.
Vittore laughed and responded with a comment she took to mean she was taking over as teacher. But Maria put an extra two shakes of hot sauce into the pan, then tried it again herself. The cook was nodding her approval when her eyes darted behind Sophia, toward the door.
“I did not know you spoke Italian so well,” Luca said.
“I’ve been practicing on Maria and Vittore. They are very patient.”
Maria broke into a flurry of Italian, and Sophia only managed to catch the odd word. She took the gist to mean that she was too nicely dressed to be standing at the stove and she should sit down and visit with her new mama.
As she walked toward the door, Luca’s eyes roved over her body, and she saw him swallow. Perhaps it wasn’t all for show.
In the sitting room, Sophia perched on the edge of the useless red sofa. The new one should be coming in a few days, and she could hardly wait. Luca hadn’t commented on any of the other little changes she’d made. But the few personal touches she’d added made the house seem warmer, more homely. At least to her.
Luca poured her a glass of wine and mixed a martini for himself. “I found out how Mama heard of our marriage,” he began.
“Oh, how?”
“You ordered a sofa to be reupholstered. The man who runs the upholstery shop is married to one of Mama’s friends. She got in touch with Mama on Facebook and asked why she did not visit when she came back for our wedding.”
“Oh, dear. What did your mother say to you?”
“I would not repeat it. But do not fear. I took all the blame.”
“I didn’t know about the upholsterer’s wife. I was trying to support the local businesses.”
“You will soon learn that nothing is secret in a small village. For example, I know you have been meeting with that Englishman, Jonathan.” The cold chill that initially swept through Sophia was replaced with a white-hot heat.
“I have done nothing wrong. I’m helping him with the interior design of his house.”
“I do not doubt you, amore. I only caution. I told you that my reputation is very important to me. I will not accept it for my wife to be talked about visiting another man’s house.” His accent became more pronounced and his hand clenched at his side.