“Georgie, you good?”
I swallowed and turned my attention back to the group I’d come to stand with: Paolo, Massimo, and Katerina. They were going on about playing another game of footie on the beach, but I couldn’t bring myself to contribute. Gianluca was across the courtyard with so much attention pinned to him I doubted he even remembered I existed. He looked statuesque in the deep, contrasting light of the oncoming storm. On one hand, I appreciated my unfettered view of him afar. It was a rare occurrence that he and I were together and not close, but this was getting to be too much. The girls around him were beautiful and speaking Italian so fast I had no chance of picking up the occasional word to clue me in on the subject of the conversation, but their body language translated clearly into any language.
Fortunately, a few minutes later, the meat was done and the heavy clouds had settled right over Gianluca’s villa. We helped carry platters of meat and fish into his kitchen just before the first fat raindrops started to fall.
“Al chiuso! Inside everyone!” Massimo shouted.
It was a frenzy of laughter and shouts as we carried in all the food and drinks from outside. I barely managed to get in before the rain hit, but a few of the other guests weren’t so lucky.
“Let’s eat,” Gianluca said from the kitchen with a proud smile.
I wasn’t used to seeing him like this, smiling and happy around so many people. The Gianluca I knew was so used to staying out of the limelight. Now, he was helping divide up the food, making sure everyone got enough to eat. I lingered by the living room window, watching the rain come down in sheets so thick I couldn’t see past the edge of the cliff.
“Here.”
A plate of food slid into my line of sight and I glanced up to see Gianluca beside me with an amused smile.
“I’m not really hungry.”
He eyed the glass of wine in my hand. “You should eat a little anyway. It’s good.”
I accepted the plate, but didn’t take a bite. My stomach was in knots. The party was supposed to be fun, but I hadn’t properly thought it through. In the months since we’d started to redo the bed and breakfast, Gianluca and I had lived in our own private world. Selfishly, I realized the only reason our arrangement had been working was because I’d had him all to myself. Now, it felt like I was sharing Gianluca at this party, on top of having to pretend we were just friends—it was throwing me for a loop.
“You’ve kept your distance tonight.”
My gaze swept up to find Gianluca still standing near me. I thought he’d wandered back into the kitchen after handing me my plate. “Me?”
“I kept hoping you’d come talk to me while I grilled.”
I laughed bitterly. “I’m not one for queues.”
He nodded. “I didn’t peg you as the jealous type.”
“I’m not.”
In in a matter of seconds, my mood took a nosedive. I was angry with him for teasing me and I was angry with myself for getting worked up about it.
I shoved the plate of food back at him and turned to find Katerina. She was sitting in the kitchen, at the island with Massimo, Matteo, and Paolo. I forced my way into the group and found a seat beside Katerina. She asked if I was okay and I plastered on a fake smile. This was all new territory for me. I was usually the life of the party, the girl always down for a laugh. Now, I was moody and quiet. It was like Gianluca and I had completely switched roles for the night.
Even though I’d put distance between us, I couldn’t help stealing quick glances at him. I was still helpless against the pull he had over me. He stayed in the living room for a while, and I couldn’t turn over my shoulder to get a look at him, but I heard his voice over everyone else’s. Each of his words in Italian spun a thin strand around my neck, all combining to slowly suffocate me. Eventually, he came to join the group at the island, diagonal from where I sat.
One of the Italian girls had found his stereo and put on music. A deck of cards appeared and the alcohol continued to flow. Meanwhile, I sipped my wine, studying Gianluca over the rim of the glass. He didn’t seem as pensive as I was, instead appearing rather content with the idea of all these people in his house.
I thought he wanted it to be just the four of us.
Why was he enjoying himself so much?
Then he caught me staring and before I could turn away, he unleashed a seductive smile and tilted his head to the living room where people had started to dance playfully.
He edged around the group and I followed after him, not yet sure if I was ready to let go of my anger, but too curious to turn him down. He reached for my glass and set it down on a side table, taking my hand in his and pulling me close.
There were enough people there that we didn’t stand out, but the dancing was different from what we did back in England. There, men sort of flopped around and tried desperately to look like they knew what they were doing. This was different. Gianluca radiated an effortless rhythm. He was so confident that when he pulled me into him, I melted.
“Are you still upset with me?” he asked, ensuring that my hips were aligned with his.
I was burning up, on the edge of giving in when he bent his head and whispered against my ear.
“Don’t be, bella…tesoro…luce dei miei occhi…”
He was coaxing me out of my sour mood, gently teasing me with Italian pet names. Lovely, darling… Before I could ask what the last phrase meant, he pulled back and met my gaze.
“Light of my eyes.”