Her Italian Soldier

“Then join me on the terrace and help me eat this.”

He was feeling better and wanted to show her. She couldn’t turn him down. “Would you like me t—”

“No,” he interrupted. “I’ve managed pretty well on my own today.”

He certainly had. “I can see that.” So would his father when the time came.

Something dramatic had caused this alteration in his mood. She knew that getting him to open up was partially responsible.

While he carried the hot dish outside, she followed and sat down in one of the chairs. A lighted candle flickered over the table already set for two. On top of the floral cloth he’d placed bread and salad. Between the scent of flowers in the air and the wonderful smell of the cannelloni, it was all too romantic for words.

She watched him sit. He was still careful, but she was confident his pain was diminishing. He served her a sample of everything. “I made tea with lemons from the fruit on that overhang, but if you’d prefer wine, there’s some in the cupboard. I won’t be drinking any until I’m off my painkillers.”

“Tea sounds perfect to me. What a good patient you are!”

“Actually I was the hospital’s worst,” he corrected her after starting in on his food. “By the time the doctors told me I’d healed enough to leave, they were ready to throw me out, but my psychiatrist said I wasn’t ready. He was right. So were you.”

Annabelle almost choked on the bread she was in the middle of swallowing. “About this morning—”

“We both know I have post-traumatic stress,” he blurted before she could finish her thought. “The doctor told me I don’t suffer from it as badly as some of the other guys he’s treated, but I’ve been living in denial that it was my problem. You dashed water in my face and woke me up. It’s what I needed, so don’t apologize.”

“If this meal is your way of thanking me, then I’m very humbled.” She wiped the corner of her mouth with the napkin. “Thank you for not staying angry with me.” The man had a lethal charm she couldn’t deny.

“Since it serves both our purposes to live under the same roof, I decided we might as well enjoy our partnership in crime together.”

“Lucca…you can’t tease about something this serious. After we eat, I really am going to leave. I’ve already registered at the Casa Claudia.”

His facial muscles tautened. “Why would you do that? This morning you offered me your services. Did I misunderstand?”

“No. That offer is still open, but not here in your home. Whether you realize it or not, I care for your father and can’t bear the guilt I feel still pretending I don’t know you’re back in Ravello.” She bit her lip. “Yes, I’m worried about my standing in his eyes, but aren’t you afraid he’ll somehow find out? He loves you. What if it’s too much of a shock for him?”

Any parent would be hurt, especially Guilio, with all his plans. She dreaded what his reaction would be to know his son had been staying at the farmhouse with Annabelle and she’d said nothing.

His eyes narrowed on her features. “I’ll call him tomorrow and explain everything. I swear it.”

Annabelle believed him. “You have no idea how relieved I am to hear it.”

“He’ll understand I placed you in a terrible position and won’t give it another thought. But since we’re discussing your sins of omission, how about the one against me.”

She was ready to tell him the truth. “Your father met me in California while he was over there on business. He came right out and asked me if I would fly to Italy for three weeks to be a model in a new campaign ad he was working on.”

Lucca blinked. “You’re a model?”

“Don’t flatter me too much,” she teased after hearing the surprise in his question.

“You know very well you’re easy on the eyes,” he drawled. “Go on. This conversation is getting more fascinating by the second.”

“I told you I’m a nurse, but he said I had the look he wanted.”

“He’s never used a female model before.”

“I found that out. The other day on one of the shoots I asked him again, ‘Why me?’ He said I have that all American look and smile that appeals to men who buy his cars. Apparently he’s made a study of it or something.”

Laughter escaped his throat, surprising her becau

se she so rarely heard it from him and because he was so attractive when he did laugh.

“What’s so funny?”