Jonathan’s frown smoothed and his jaw sagged. Silence hovered over them and he peered at her, with a hundred questions in his gaze, then he pulled her against him and pressed his cheek to her temple. Ignoring the company surrounding them, she wound her arms around his neck and molded her lips to his. “Isabella, my darling,” he whispered against her mouth.
The din of exclamations, chuckles, and grumbles grew around them.
Jonathan released her mouth but kept his arm around her.
“Congratulations, Isabella,” Franco said.
“I’m happy for you,” Patricia blurted with relief and elation in her voice. The poor girl had been in love with Marco for years and was probably delighted to see Isabella out of the competition.
“Thank you, Franco and Patricia. What about you, Marco? Aren’t you going to congratulate me, my dear friend?”
“Are you really happy?” he asked still not convinced.
“Very happy. I wish you the same with the girl who loves you. Open your eyes, Marco. She’s not far.”
A sniffle attracted their attention. Patricia wiped a few tears.
“You?” Marco spun toward the shy girl. Surprise and joy radiated from his smile. “You? Why didn’t you say something, cara?” He handed her a tissue and smiled.
Signor Dorrano cleared his throat, but Nonna was in no mood for useless diplomacy. “I want you all out of the house. Go have fun and let me conduct my business.”
“Buono fortuna, Nonna. Good luck. We’re going to take Jonathan around our beautiful island, then dine on the bay. Would you like to join us, Marco and Franco?” Isabella asked without leaving the comfort of Jonathan’s arms.
Marco’s gaze rested on her, his expression unreadable, then flipped to Patricia. “Why not? I’d love to if Patricia comes.”
“Oh yes.” The shy girl smiled to her ears.
“Ciao, Nonna Regina. Good luck.” The young crowd shouted their goodbyes and left the house.
They settled in the van, with Paolo Dorrano at the wheel and Emma beside him. Isabella and Jonathan had squeezed in the back, while Patricia sat in the middle row between the two Raveno brothers.
Marco turned to Jonathan. “Congratulations. You’re a lucky fellow. You should keep her happy or—”
“I will,” Jonathan answered with a tender smile at his fake bride.
Paolo drove through the downtown and the old city, slowed down in front of palaces and churches, remaining evidence of Sicily’s faded grandeur.
“This is Quattro Canti. The sculptures on each of the four corners depict a variety of themes, including the four seasons, four Spanish kings and the four patron saints of the old town areas.” With pride in his voice, the young man explained the history behind each monument and continued to drive along a large avenue.
“We are heading to Piazza Pretoria, home to the City Hall. The large central fountain is the focal point for sixteen nude statues of nymphs, humans, mermaids, and satyrs.” Paolo chuckled. “It was erected during the Inquisition and received the epithet, the Fountain of Shame.” He parked the car and allowed them to amble through the old paved streets.
Jonathan asked Paolo to take memorable pictures of his Sicilian honeymoon as he posed with Isabella in his arms, kissing her, wrapping his arms around her, or bending his head against hers.
“We’ll have a lot of beautiful memories of our trip to Sicily, sweetheart.”
The irony underlying his tone pinched her heart and brought tears to her eyes. She hadn’t lied when she’d confessed her love to him for her whole family and friends to hear. But had Jonathan believed her or did he still resent her plot?
Ever since she’d told him about her charade, he’d been playing the loving groom to the hilt. Maybe the role would rub off on him.
Soon they left the stylish area of Palermo and strolled through markets of Arabic flavor. Melodic tunes mingled with bargaining voices. Roasted aroma, spicy smells and aromatic perfumes wafted toward them. A splendid array of exotic food and other colorful goods on display evoked the souk atmosphere of a long-gone era.
Jonathan bought a red coral necklace and offered it to Isabella. “I want you to have a souvenir of my first visit to your island.” Tenderness replaced his previous sarcastic tone.
“Thank you. I hope you don’t resent me too much,” she added while their companions kept busy in front of other stores.
“No resentment here. Not when I have the pleasure of kissing and holding you as much as I want.”
“Well, enjoy the game while it lasts.” Bitterness tightened her throat. She wanted more than a fake affection and public demonstrations.
They rounded up at the van. Paolo drove again and pointed out several churches. “I’ll give you a quick tour of Piazza Marina and then we’ll stop for dinner. The area is known as La Kalsa and was originally an Arabic quarter. Notice the aristocratic palaces and churches.” He stopped in a large parking lot and they strode through a maze of streets. The salty smell of the sea and algae drifted on the breeze. “This restaurant has the best fish you’ll ever eat. Molto buono.”
After they settled and ordered their wine and fish, Isabella plunged back into a melancholic quietness. She hadn’t spoken much during the ride, and once in a while she patted her new necklace and sighed.
Patricia interrupted her musing. “Jonathan gave you a stunning diamond.”
“That’s her mother’s wedding ring,” Jonathan retorted with a frown. “We didn’t have time to choose one.” He caught her hand and brushed his lips over her wrist. “I plan to make up when we go back to the States.”
Stunned, Isabella stiffened, wanting to yell at him to stop the pretence. Every amorous word he said, every caress or kiss burned her heart and tortured her.
While drinking and eating the delicious Sicilian dishes, they all chatted, joked, and related stories about their island and their past. Completely at ease, Jonathan participated in the general conversation, and even advised Marco on how to invest and start a business in the U.S. With a supreme effort, Isabella tried to participate in the joyful mood.
“Do you think Nonna Regina succeeded?” Emma asked for the umpteenth time. “I hope my Lorenzo will be out of prison soon.”
Claiming that they were all his parents’ guests tonight, Paolo grabbed the bill and paid the total. On the way back he dropped Franco and Marco at their house down the street and continued home. The darkness in the living room indicated the older people had retired.
“Goodnight,” Patricia said with a beatific smile. “This was the most beautiful evening of my life.”
Emma and Isabella’s sighs echoed in response. While the Dorrano siblings retired to their rooms, Jonathan pulled Isabella into the kitchen and turned the lights on. “We haven’t had time to say two words in private since the airport.”
“What’s there to say?”
“What’s wrong with you? I did everything you wanted me to do. Yet you seem upset.”
“You didn’t have to exaggerate.” Her shoulders tensed but she had no intention of opening up to him.
“You call these few public pecks exaggerating? How is a newlywed couple supposed to act?”
“I don’t know.” She lowered her head and hoped that the tears welling in her eyes wouldn’t flood her cheeks.
“Tell me, Isabella.” He caught her chin between two fingers and tilted her face toward him. “When Marco asked you why you married me you answered ‘Because I love him’. Was that another lie to support your scheme?”
“Yes, of course.” Why did her tears roll down at the wrong moment? She snatched her head out of his grasp and averted her gaze.
“And when you retuned my kisses with so much passion at the airport was it also for the benefit of the crowd?”
“Yes.”
“So you don’t feel anything for me?”
“No.”
“You’re such a good actress, Isabella.”
“Yes, I know.” Jeez, she was a lousy actress. Her grandmother co
uld always guess her thoughts.
“Well I’m not a good actor. I need more practice for tomorrow.”
Without giving her the time to protest, he pressed her against him and lowered his head. She didn’t move and savored his sweet, tender kiss.
“Sweetheart, it’s too bad you don’t really love me.” He nuzzled her throat.
Her brain too fuzzy to figure out things, she stroked his nape. All she wanted was to keep kissing him and forget to play the roles of a fake married couple. “Hmm, why?”
“Because I’m falling for you.”
“You are?” Delight bubbled in her heart.
“Mister Ramirez.” Nonna’s gruff voice pulled them apart. “Didn’t I warn you not to take advantage of my innocent granddaughter?”
“Nonna!” Her grandmother had the worst possible timing. Isabella stepped away from Jonathan and rubbed her hand over her forehead to clear her thoughts. “Nonna, what happened here this evening? Did you win your case?”
“I think I did. Our lawyer is drafting a new affidavit based on yours. When the chief of police came, I reminded him he was my best student in Sunday school, and I added that I hoped he still believed in honesty and justice. And then the judge arrived and I told them my story. Dante talked to them on the phone and reported under oath what he witnessed on that fateful day. The judge was seriously shaken when I—the victim’s grandmother—scolded him for wrong verdict.”
“Did the mayor come?” Isabella enquired.
“He sure did. We repeated our stories for his benefit. I pledged to support him financially. He doesn’t want scandals while he runs his campaign, and wouldn’t mind being recognized for a grand gesture, such as releasing a wrongfully imprisoned man. He consulted privately with the judge and chief of police. At the end of the evening, they decided that Lorenzo should be freed as soon as possible. The court will meet tomorrow morning, re-examine the case, and throw out the conviction.”
“That’s wonderful. You did a great job, Nonna.”
“I still have to take care of you, bambina.” Nonna pulverized Jonathan with a scornful glare.
He narrowed his eyes but remained politely quiet.
“Thank you but I’m too old to be taken care of,” Isabella retorted.
Nonna had just gifted her with a monumental headache and she’d rather not go upstairs to the same room and keep arguing. “I’m going to treat myself to a glass of wine.”
“Good idea. I’ll drink with you,” Jonathan said while opening the bar cabinet.
Nonna shrugged and shuffled to the stairs, but Isabella didn’t like the subtle smile the old lady had rapidly suppressed. What was Nonna concocting now?
Chapter Fourteen
Jonathan poured two glasses of wine and handed one to Isabella without saying a word. She walked to the family room off the kitchen and dropped onto the loveseat. To give her space, he settled in an armchair across from her and studied the lovely face he had lavished with kisses so often today.
Dark shadows underlined her beautiful chocolate-brown eyes. “You must be exhausted.”
“I am but I won’t be able sleep. Jetlag.”
“And too much on your mind.”
She nodded.
“Your Nonna?” He could well understand her frustration regarding her grandmother’s interference in her life. Yet she’d displayed an infinite patience with the old lady.
“Among other things.”
“You shouldn’t regret coming. Good outcomes are shaping up for your friends.”
“I don’t regret anything.” The twitch of her lips denied her words. “Emma and Lorenzo will get married as soon as he’s free. Patricia is working her charm on Marco and he seems to like it. I knew I was just a challenge for him.”
He admired her generosity toward her friends, and the calm with which she’d handled Marco, keeping him at bay but maintaining their friendship.
Still her subdued, almost sad, behavior contrasted with her usual sassy attitude. Was he the one disturbing her peace of mind?
Strange how they had cuddled and kissed so often in public today, but now kept their distance. He could take her in his arms—and she probably wouldn’t protest—but she deserved more than a few kisses and hugs.
His elbows on his knees and fingers tented together, he leaned toward her. “Isabella, when I received your message saying that you left to go to Sicily, I lost my mind.”
“Why?” Sparks of interest danced in her eyes.
“Because I was afraid Marco may hurt you, or seduce you, or convince you to return his love. I couldn’t stand the idea of seeing you with another man. And now your grandmother has ordered me to stay away from you. She wants to match you with Paolo, or another Sicilian.”
“No way.”
“Isabella, I can’t let this happen because…” He ducked his head in his hand and exhaled.
“Because?”
He raised his head and peered into her eyes. “Because I’ve fallen in love with you.”
She smiled and stood and stepped next to his chair to slump on its arm.
“I love you too, Jonathan. No white lies here for the sake of others.” She slipped on to his lap and nestled against his chest.
Her words chimed like soft music even though his heartbeat hammered against his ribs. In spite of her many white lies, he loved her spontaneity, her eagerness, and generosity.
She pulled back and tilted her head. “Listen, I imagined the husband charade to protect myself from Marco’s advances. But honestly your arrival delighted me.” She chuckled and tapped her hand on his chest. “In spite of the complications it created.”
“Complications? Tell me about it.” His scoff echoed her soft laugh. Did she even realize how she’d complicated his life and put his job in jeopardy since he’d met her?
With an automatic motion, she stroked his linen shirt, her fingers igniting a fire in his heart and his groin.
“But…” She bit her lip. A flash of regret saddened her face.
He moved her hand away from its sensitive target and brought it to his lips. “Later you seemed distressed. Why?”
Tears clouded the beautiful brown shade of her eyes. “Don’t you see? I couldn’t stand the idea that our loving gestures, our kisses were just a scam, a bad one that would end soon.”
It hadn’t been bad to have her in his arms, to protect her and play the loving husband. Actually, it had felt really, really good. He cupped her face and brushed his lips over her cheek. “What if we make it real? What if we make it last? Forever?”
“What are you saying?” A smile slowly stretched her mouth and brightened his heart.
“We’ve been dating for a short time, but we’ve known each other for two years almost—since I’ve worked with your brother.”
“And I’ve been in love with you for as long.”
“Will you marry me, Isabella, my love?”
“Oh, Jonathan. Yes. Yes.”
Her fingers linked behind his neck as she leaned into him. He dipped his head to catch her lips and seal his proposal with a bone-melting kiss. Passion and desire mingled as his tongue swept over hers, tempting and exploring. She tasted like his best dream, his daring fantasy, his happy future.
She responded with the same ardor. When they couldn’t breathe anymore, he lifted his mouth and pressed his forehead against hers.
“I love you, my Bella. Can’t wait to marry you.”
“I’d like to marry here on my island.”
“Great idea. A honeymoon in Sicily sounds very romantic.” His smile froze. “How can we marry here? We’re supposed to be married already.”
“Huh. Marco would be mad and feel cheated. Darn, we need to think of something.”
He knew he’d never have a dull moment with his sassy Isabella.
*
When Isabella woke up the next day, a heavy silence greeted her. The twin bed where Nonna slept was already made up. Isabella checked the time on her phone. “Holy Mo! One-thirty.”
She slipped out of bed in her nightie and took a peek outside. As quiet as a desert. Was Jonathan still asleep? Last night, they’d lingered till two am in the family room.
A delighted smile accompanied her reminiscences as she showered, shampooed her hair, and dried it. Refreshed, she dressed in a short pink printed dress, applied her makeup and favorite perfume, and climbed down the stairs. The strong aroma of freshly made espresso wafted to her. No wonder. Jonathan sat at the round maple table in the kitchen, sipping a coffee and tapping on his phone.
“’Morning, Jonathan.”
“Ciao, Bella.” He raised his phone. “I’m studying Italian.”
Her laughter bubbled and she went straight to him and wrapped her arms around his neck. His enticing mouth found hers right away. But not for long. Noise, voices and laughter erupted in the hallway and drifted to the kitchen.
“They’re back.” Isabella jumped out of his arms, in time to see the Dorrano family and her grandmother walk in. “Well, Nonna? What happened?”
“Lorenzo is free,” Emma squealed. “Nonna Regina did a fabulous job. And I’m getting married next week.”
Isabella went to hug her. “Congratulations, sweetie. So happy for you.”
Nonna slumped onto the sofa. “I hope my dear Alberto will rest in peace until I join him.”
“No way, we’re keeping you here, Nonna.” Isabella kissed her grandmother’s cheek. “But where are Lorenzo and the others?”
“We dropped him home to see his mother and grandmother,” Signor Dorrano said.
“We are having a big celebration in an hour for Lorenzo and Emma,” Maria Dorrano announced. “We will have an early dinner catered by our most famous restaurant and a few more surprises.” Her face radiating enthusiasm, Maria clapped her hands. “So everyone get dressed for my daughter’s engagement party.”
“I’ll help you upstairs, Nonna.” Isabella tried to take her arm.
“I’m not crippled yet, bambina.”
Isabella bent toward her and lowered her voice. “I have something to tell you.”
Nonna pierced her with a sharp gaze. “Ah, bene. Good.”
“Come along, Jonathan. Take Nonna’s other arm.”