A Taste Of Italy. Fiona McArthur

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missed her comment. ‘You nearly had to defend yourself in a more physical way earlier.’

      So. More fire. He straightened and met her eyes with a challenge. ‘I had the utmost faith in your control. You’d exhibited control all day. It’s a wonder your teeth aren’t aching.’

      She blinked, glanced at him with an arrested expression and then laughed again. He felt the smile on his face. A deeper more genuine smile than he’d had for a long time. It felt surprisingly good to make her laugh.

      Not something he’d been known for much in the past but her amusement warmed him in a place that had been cold for too long. ‘Of course I also have a slight weight advantage.’

      ‘And I have a black belt in karate.’ She picked up one of the biscotti favours from a plate on the table and unconsciously broke a piece off, weighing it in her hand before putting it to her mouth. That curved and perfect mouth he’d been trying not to look at for the past ten minutes.

      Karate. He searched for an image of sweating women in tracksuits he could call to mind, or the name of the white pyjamalike uniform people wore for martial arts, anything to take his mind off the sight of her lips parting as she absently turned him on.

      ‘How long are you staying before you head back to Italy?’ she said carelessly as she raised the biscuit shard. His gaze followed her fingers, drawn by invisible fields of magnetism and, unconsciously, he held his breath. Gi. The uniform was called gi.

      Her lips opened and she slid the fragment in and licked the tips of her fingers, oblivious to his fascinated attention as she glanced at the dancers. His breath eased out and his body stirred and stretched in a way it hadn’t in a long time.

      Then she glanced back at him and he had to gather his scattered wits. When was he leaving? Perhaps sooner than he intended if this was how tempted he’d already become. ‘Gianni and Emma are away for the first few days of their honeymoon, and then Paulo and I will join them at the airport before we all return to Italy.’ He was rambling.

      He focused on the plans he’d finalised before he left for Italy. ‘We were held up.’ He paused. His grip tightened unconsciously on the glass in his hand and he looked away from her—that brought him back to earth. There was no time for this when the real world required constant and alert attention.

      He shook his head and went on. ‘We were held up on the way over and arrived later than expected. It will give Paulo a few days to get over the “excitement” before we have to return.’ She nodded.

      Jack appeared at her side and tugged on her dress. ‘Excuse me, Mum. Can we go and play spotlight?’

      Tammy looked away from this suddenly much more attractive man to her son and the world started again. What was she thinking? She blinked again to clear her head and swallowed the last of the biscuit. ‘Who with?’ she asked Jack, and looked beyond him to the milling group of young boys and girls.

      ‘Dawn and Grace, and Peta and Nicky. And some of the older kids as well.’ He glanced at Leon. ‘And Paulo if he wants to?’

      Leon frowned and looked across to where his son was talking to Grace and another girl. ‘What is this “spotlight”?’

      Tammy shrugged. ‘Hide-and-seek in the dark and the seeker has a handheld torch or spotlight. The children play it all the time here when parties like this stretch into evening.’

      Leon’s frown didn’t lighten. ‘Even young girls? Without parents supervising?’

      ‘They won’t go far.’ She looked at Paulo, who pretended he didn’t expect his father to say no. ‘Let him go. He’ll be fine.’

      Leon hesitated, and she wondered if he’d been this protective since the boy’s mother had died. Overprotecting children made her impatient but she held her tongue, if not her expression, and then finally he nodded.

      ‘Perhaps for a short while.’ He tilted his head at his son and Paulo approached them. He spoke in Italian and Tammy looked away but she couldn’t help overhearing.

      She had no trouble interpreting Leon’s discussion with his son. She’d been able to speak Italian since her teenage years in a dingy Italian coffee shop in Sydney, dark with dangerous men and a tall Italian youth she hadn’t seen since but wasn’t allowed to forget. Those memories reminded her why she wasn’t attracted to Leonardo Bonmarito.

      ‘Do you wish to play this game?’ Leon said to his son.

      ‘Sì,’ said Paulo, and he looked away to the other children.

      ‘Be aware of your safety,’ Leon continued in his native language, and Tammy frowned at the tablecloth in front of her. It seemed a strange thing to say at his brother’s wedding in a country town.

      ‘Sì, Padre, of course,’ Paulo said again, and when his father nodded he ran off to join the children. Tammy hoped she wiped the expression from her face before she glanced back at Leon. Listening to Leon talk to his son brought back many memories and it had surprised her how easily she slipped back into recognising the words.

      ‘Your son has beautiful manners. Is he allowed to play with other children much?’

      It was her turn to be frowned on. ‘Of course.’ No doubt she’d offended him. Oops, she thought without remorse.

      Leon went on in a low, steely voice that made her eyebrows rise. ‘He attends school. And your Jack? He appears very confident.’ His eyes travelled over her. ‘Like his mother.’

      She shrugged. Tough if he had a problem with that. ‘There’s only been Jack and me together, although my father and my stepmother have always been very much a part of his life since he was born. They live next door.’

      She saw his gaze drift to his brother and the planes of his angular face softened as he nodded. ‘Family is important. Especially when one’s family is smaller than God intended.’

      There seemed a story there. She wasn’t quite sure what he was getting at. Did he have plans to enlarge his family? Was he here to convince his brother to take his wife back to Italy for good? Perhaps it would be better to know one’s enemy, as good as an excuse as any for plain old nosiness, but she had to admit to herself he intrigued her. ‘So, both your parents are gone?’

      ‘Sì.’ Reluctance in the answer. ‘They died when we were young.’

      She should stop the questions, but maybe now a silence would be even more awkward, or that’s what she told herself as she asked the next. ‘To lose a parent is hard, to lose both would be devastating. Especially as I believe you are the eldest of the two of you?’

      He shrugged and his voice had cooled. ‘By four years. It was my responsibility to be the head of the family.’

      At how old? she wondered. ‘No other relatives to look after you?’

      He answered almost absently as his attention was distracted by the calls and laughter of the children. ‘An elderly widowed aunt who has since passed away.’ He frowned again as Paulo ducked with a grin behind a dark bush.

      He really did have issues with Paulo playing with the other children, Tammy decided. ‘And Emma says you lost your wife last year?’

      His gaze snapped back to her and this time he raised

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