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‘I thought so. You’re a good man, Emilio.’
‘Don’t.’ He closed his eyes tightly, as if that would erase the words’ existence.
Why wouldn’t he hear them? Jasmine was determined to find out. To seek out the real man he had buried away.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Jasmine wasn’t surewhat to expect when she arrived in Perlano. During her research on Emilio, she’d been too focused on the man himself to spare many glances for the postcard-worthy images of the De Luca vineyards. Now, as James drove Emilio and her through the massive gates, she realised exactly how impressive his family’s legacy was.
The beauty of this place, the scale of wealth, was unimaginable even for her. As she got a clearer look of the house, she thought it barely a house at all. It looked like some sort of boutique hotel, or a resort amongst the vineyards.
‘You’re very quiet,’ Emilio said as the tyres beneath them crunched on the gravel path.
‘So are you,’ she replied. The closer they’d got to this place, the more subdued he’d become, until he was completely silent, a frown etched on his forehead. ‘Is there anything I should know before going in?’
She could handle herself in any company, but Emilio came from a seriously old-money family. In New York that meant different traditions and norms; Jasmine could only imagine the same would be true here.
‘Only that we will be sharing a room.’
‘What?Emilio, we have rules in place.’ Jasmine was already way too attracted to her husband. Sharing the same space with him in their private moments would only weaken her resolve. She didn’t need that.
‘And I plan to honour them. But we are in my family home. You are my wife. It would be strange to sleep apart. It’ll be fine. Just trust me.’
Could she? After a lifetime of being let down by men who should have been there for her, Jasmine wasn’t sure. It would take a lot longer for Emilio to earn that.
‘Then give me a reason to. Tell me why we’re sharing.’
Emilio was silent for a moment, his teeth grinding together. Just when she thought he wouldn’t take that step she needed, he answered. ‘The head of the household staff here is incredibly loyal to my brother. I don’t want her to think our marriage isn’t strong, or not what it seems—or to pass that suspicion on.’ He glanced at her, his voice taking on a tone of resignation. ‘I haven’t forgotten the rules, Jasmine. If we have to share a bed, we’ll find a way to make it work, but I will look for a solution that respects your boundaries first.’
‘Fine.’
‘Does that mean you trust me?’ He gave her the smallest of smiles, but it was half-hearted at best. It was as if Emilio had lost his colour, his vibrancy, here.
‘I wouldn’t push it.’
This time, Jasmine waited for him to open the car door for her. After what he had said on the plane, she figured it wouldn’t have been easy for him to be back here so soon after his mother had passed. And, with her gone, she could only imagine the other memories that would haunt him. She understood how a mother’s love could keep the worst memories at bay.
Emilio took her hand and led her to the door. Before they reached it, it opened and out stepped an older woman, her black hair streaked with grey and tied back in a bun.
‘Emilio?’
‘Buonasera, Isabella.’
The old lady smiled at him and it seemed as if she was about to reply, when Jasmine saw her eye catch their linked hands. The rings.
‘Emilio,’ Isabella said, voice full of concern, ‘What did you do?’
That was an odd question—no congratulations? Was it because he’d marriedJasmineor was there something else going on here?
‘Make sure my wife is comfortable.’
‘Of course.’
‘Jasmine.’ Jasmine extended her hand. Isabella took it, shaking it with warmth in her eyes, and Jasmine was relieved that the very obvious coolness in the air was not intended for her. It just made her more curious to know what had transpired.
‘Welcome to Perlano, Jasmine,’ Isabella said, in heavily accented English.
‘Thank you.’