Latin Lovers: Hot-Blooded Sicilians: Valentino's Love-Child / The Sicilian Doctor's Proposal / Sicilian Millionaire, Bought Bride

Her unborn baby deserved to know his or her family and Faith would not allow her own feelings to stand in the way of that.

Besides there was a tiny part of her that wanted to show Tino he was wrong and that she could handle being around him just fine.

Just a small part. Really.

CHAPTER SEVEN

LESS CERTAIN OF HER ABILITY to withstand Tino’s company unscathed than she had been in the safety of her art classroom, Faith rang the doorbell of the big villa.

The door opened almost immediately, making her heart skip a beat. However, it was only Giosue on the other side.

Relief flooded her, making her smile genuine. “Good evening, Gio.”

“Bueno sera, signora.”

She handed him a small gift.

“What is this?” he asked, his voice tinged with anticipation mixed with confusion.

“It is traditional to give one’s dinner host a gift. I forgot yours when you invited me before, so I’ve brought it tonight along with one for your grandmother.”

“Because this time she invited you?”

“Exactly.”

Gio looked at the present and then up at her, his eyes shining. “Wow. Can I open it now?” She nodded.

He ripped the package apart with the enthusiasm usually reserved for the young and sucked in a breath as he saw what was inside. They were leather gardening gloves made to fit a child’s hands.

“I didn’t know if you already had a pair … “

“I do, but they are made of cloth and not nearly so nice. Come, I want to show Nonno.”

She smiled, glad her gift had gone over so well, and followed Gio to the lanai, Agata’s favorite place to entertain. When they arrived, she saw both Agata and Rocco, but no Tino.

Relieved at what she was sure would be only a temporary respite, Faith watched Gio run to his grandfather to show him the new gloves.

Agata smiled in welcome and hugged Faith, kissing both her cheeks. “It is good to see you.”

“Come, Mama, you speak as if it had been weeks rather than a few days since the last time you saw your friend.” There was an edge to Tino’s voice that Faith could not miss.

She wondered if Agata noticed, but the older woman seemed to be oblivious.

Shaking her head at her son, who had just arrived, she said, “Faith is a dear friend I would see every day if I could. She is good for Gio too.”

“Save your matchmaking attempts for someone susceptible, Mama. I do not believe Faith likes me at all.”

Oh, he was in fine form tonight. Faith refused to rise to the bait and show her chagrin at his words.

“Nonsense. You’re my son, what is not to like?” Agata demanded.

Faith could make a list, but she forebore doing so for Agata’s sake. See? She could handle this. She would handle this.

Her desire to strangle Tino for his leading comment morphed to unwilling concern as she saw how haggard he looked. Oh, he was his usual gorgeous self, but there was a certain cast to his skin and lines around his eyes that were not usually there—all of it bespeaking a bone-deep exhaustion.

“You look tired,” she blurted out.

“Si, this one has been working too many hours. Like a man possessed, he returns to his office after our little Gio goes to sleep and works into the early hours before returning home.”

“I told you, I have some things going on that require extra attention right now.”

Agata frowned. “You say that to your father and maybe he will believe you. Men! But I am your mother and you are behaving much the same as you did after Maura’s death. I do not understand it.”

“There is nothing to understand. I am not grieving, I am working.” He said it with so much force, Faith couldn’t help believing.

Agata did not look so convinced. But then, she was a mother and tended to see the softer side of her child, even if such a side did not exist.

“Is the new venture going well?”

“Yes.” Tino’s voice was clipped and the look he threw his mother was filled with frustration. “Regardless of what my family thinks, I am damn good at my job.”

Rocco had joined them and was shaking his head. “Of course we know you are a success. How could you be anything else? You are my son, no? And I am the greatest vintner in Sicily. Why should you not be a businessman of equal talent? You are a Grisafi.”

Faith was tempted to laugh, but knew Rocco would not take it well. He was serious. Of course. But Faith had no problem seeing where Tino got his arrogance from.

“He is that,” Agata said with asperity. “Which means that in this home, he is my son, not some bigshot businessman. And you are my husband, not the maker of the best wines in the country.”

“Yes, of course.” Rocco did not look the least cowed, but sounded more than willing to be compliant.

Agata shook her head. “Men!”

It was a word she said often over the next few hours, with the same slightly exasperated and amused tone. Faith was gratified that despite the stress of being around Tino, she found the evening highly entertaining and surprisingly comfortable.

So long as she avoided direct contact with her former lover, that is. It wasn’t easy in such a small group.

And Tino wasn’t helping. He had to know she found being around him difficult, but he engaged her in conversation, and she barely avoided sitting beside him at dinner. In that, Gio was her unwitting accomplice.

However, once dinner had been eaten, it was clear that Gio and Agata both intended to see that Faith and Tino spend as much time together as possible.

Right now she was being given a tour of the vineyard, ostensibly by Rocco. Only, the old man and Gio often moved ahead, or lingered behind, leaving her alone with Tino for brief spurts of time.

“You never answered my mother’s question,” Tino said during one of those moments.

“I don’t know what you mean.”

“She asked what there was about me not to like.”

“She’s biased. She’s your mother.”