Page 21

‘A little,’ he smiled and I was tempted to roll my eyes at how ridiculously perfect his teeth were.

‘Rude! So, what – you think us Brits can’t speak other languages?’

‘No. You asked me if I was surprised thatyouknew some Italian and I am, so I just told the truth.’

‘Theaudacity!’ I mock gasped. ‘For your information, I know ten whole words of Italian. And I studied hard to learn every single one of them!’

‘Ten whole words?’ His eyes widened. ‘Wow. You are right. That reallyisimpressive.’ He smiled again. ‘Well, do not let them go to waste, Samantha. Share them with me. Tell me what you know.’

‘Challenge accepted!’ I stretched out my arms and flexed my neck from side to side like I was preparing for a workout, then exhaled deeply. ‘Okay, so number one:Ciao, two:grazie, three:bene, er…’ I paused, racking my brain.

‘Three words. Like I said, that is impressive. I see your Italian is as good as your maths.’ A small smile touched his lips.

‘I hadn’t finished!’ I protested. ‘Four: prosecco, five: pizza…’

‘Are you serious?’ Laughter rumbled in his chest.

‘Still not finished! Six: pasta, seven: vino, eight:sì, nine: gelato and ten: mozzarella. Boom!’ I pumped my fist in the air triumphantly.

‘Brava.’ He slow clapped. ‘I clearly underestimated you. I had no idea you’d be able to successfully list ten of the most popular Italian food-related words, which are also common in the English language.’

‘Hey!’ I slapped his arm playfully. Jesus, his bicep was even firmer than it looked. ‘They weren’tallfood-related!’

‘You are right. I apologise. Your Italian is exceptional. I did not realise the extent of your talents before, but now that I am aware, if any of our guests need a translator, I will make sure that you are at the top of our list.’

‘Finally, he gives me the respect I deserve!’ I laughed and our eyes locked.

Fuck. How were his eyes so damn pretty? They were light brown and sparkly and of course he had to have those long lashes. What a waste.

And I liked that today he actually cracked a smile and even laughed. Yesterday he was so serious and grumpy.

Some people would’ve been offended about him taking the piss out of my Italian, but I liked a bit of good-hearted banter and let’s face it, my Italian was shit. I knew it and he knew it, so why not have a laugh about it?

‘So,’ Romeo broke the silence and I looked away, ‘how is everything with you and Edward? You like him,sì?’

‘Yeah!’ My voice squeaked. ‘He’s… everything I asked for: decent-looking, good job, lives in London, we share some hobbies and both want the same things in the near future. Y’know, to settle down and stuff. All good!’

My stomach churned. Maybe Edward was right and I shouldn’t have had an omelette and pastries. But I’d finished eating over an hour ago and I felt fine before. Weird.

Anyway, everything I’d just said was true. Edward tickedloadsof boxes.

Okay, his obsession with calorie counting didn’t seem healthy, but that was his personal choice and no one was perfect, right? Compared to the red flags a lot of the guys I’d dated had, that was minor.

Everything was fine.

‘Excellent,’ Romeo nodded. ‘The matchmakers have done well.’

‘Yep,’ I said, popping the ‘p’ for extra emphasis.

‘I must check on the other guests, but call if you need something.’

‘Okey dokey.’ I did a cringey thumbs-up gesture, then winced internally. One day I’d have an entire conversation with a man without doing or saying something stupid.

Minutes after Romeo left, I saw Edward striding towards the pool, in a pair of brown and orange striped speedos.

A shiver ran down my spine.

And not in a good way.