The Sicilian's Marriage Arrangement

He was insatiable and she loved it. Shocked by her own capacity for passion, she became a total wanton in his arms. It worried her a little bit, this lack of control she had over her body when he touched her, but his ardor made her feel better about her own.

Every day her love for him grew. Though while she told him frequently of her feelings, he said nothing of his own.

He was solicitous of her needs, tender when he loved her and gentle when she needed him to be. There were several times Hope almost convinced herself that Luciano loved her as she loved him. Although he never said the words, he seemed to like hearing her say them. And he made her feel so special, never letting his gaze slide to other women when they were out, using endearments when he spoke to her, and touching her frequently with affection.

When they returned to Palermo, she was so happy she was sick with it.

“It looks like your marriage to my brother is having a very good effect on you,” Martina teased the evening following their return as Hope set up for a billiard shot. “You are positively luminescent with joy.”

She grinned at her new sister-in-law. “I’m happy.”

Martina laughed, the sound echoing in the cavernous game room. “You two were made for each other.”

Hope was beginning to believe that was true both ways and the sense of elation she felt at finally finding her place in the heart of another person knew no bounds. “He’s a really incredibly guy.”

Martina rolled her eyes. “To each her own, but I think you are biased. Luciano is no better. He couldn’t keep his eyes off you all through dinner last night. Mamma had visions of babies dancing through her head. I could tell.”

Hope placed her hand over her stomach. It had only been two weeks, but she couldn’t help thinking that with all the physical attention she received from Luciano, the odds of pregnancy were good.

But she shrugged, refusing to expose her hidden hopes in case they proved futile. “Who knows?”

The phone rang in the other room and seconds later a maid came into the game room. “Signora di Valerio, your grandfather, he wishes to speak to you.”

Martina laid down her cue stick. “Take the call in here. I’ll go get dressed for dinner.”

Hope picked up the phone. “Hello, Grandfather.”

He returned her greeting and asked about the honeymoon. She told him about their visit to Pompeii and a garden she had found enchanting.

They had been talking about ten minutes when he asked, “Are you happy then, little Hope?”

“Fizzing with it,” she admitted without hesitation.

“That’s good to know.”

His concern had come late in life, but it still felt nice. “Thank you.”

“I finally managed to give you something you really wanted.” He cleared his throat in a familiar way that made her realize she missed him even if he hadn’t been a big part of her daily life in Boston. “I knew what you did with the coat and my housekeeper told me the car stayed in the garage.”

“I never got around to learning to drive,” she said somewhat sheepishly.

He chuckled. “So, that was it.” The line went silent for a second. “I don’t know you very well.”

It was true. He hadn’t wanted to, but maybe that had changed. “It’s all right.”

“Hell no, it’s not, but now maybe that will change. I’m damn happy things are working out for you and Luciano. He’s a good man. Proud and stubborn, but smart and understands the value of family.” His satisfaction rang across the phone lines.

“Yes, he does.”

“I trussed him up like a Thanksgiving turkey for you and I’m glad I did.” More blatant satisfaction.

The comparison was unfortunate. She couldn’t imagine Luciano in such a scenario at all, nor was she sure that a bit of matchmaking could be likened to trussing someone up, but she didn’t argue with her grandfather. His matchmaking efforts had brought her and Luciano together.

For that, she could swallow a lot of male self-aggrandizement.

“I guess you did, Grandfather. Thank you,” she said warmly.

“I’m just glad you’re happy, girl.”

“I am.” Very, very happy.

“I called to talk to Luciano. Have him call when—”

Luciano’s voice cut across her grandfather’s. “That won’t be necessary, I am here.”

He must have picked up another extension.

“Consuella said you were on the phone talking to Hope while waiting for me to arrive,” he explained his intrusion into the conversation.

“That’s right,” her grandfather replied, “wanted to talk to my granddaughter and see how you were treating her.”