Deborah Mello - Tuscan Heat

He shook his head. “You’ve been building this relationship for months now, but I’m supposed to believe that you did it for your sister, when you didn’t even know if you were going to tell her?”

“You’re making it sound worse than it is!”

“It sounds the way it sounds, Carina, and it’s not kosher! It’s not kosher at all!”

Her father moved from the tomato sauce he’d put on the stove toward the door. “I’ll let you two have a minute,” he said. “Watch my pot while I’m gone, please.”

Carina blew out a soft sigh. She locked gazes with her husband, noting the disappointment and confusion that gleamed from his eyes. She didn’t have the words to explain how she’d rationalized what she’d done. All she knew was that in the beginning, it had made all the sense in the world to her. And that even in that moment she knew beyond any doubt that she’d done the right thing.

Since the publication of Gianna’s first book, Carina had stepped in to do those things Gianna neglected to do for herself. From managing her fan page to answering reader questions, Carina had been her sister’s personal assistant and marketing guru, maintaining her Twitter, Facebook and Instagram accounts. When Donovan’s first email message had come, there had been something in the tone of his words that had caught her attention. His comments had been thoughtful and provoking, his words laden with emotion. She instinctively knew he was exactly what her best friend in the whole wide world needed.

Her response had been all Gianna, the wisecracking, tongue-in-cheek retorts her sister was known for. As their emails had gotten lengthier, she’d pulled lines and paragraphs from Gianna’s personal writings to respond, wanting him to know her twin the way she knew her, in her sister’s own words. And it had worked because now he wanted to meet the woman he’d befriended. Admittedly, Carina hadn’t thought her plan through to the end. She’d imagined that once she’d vetted the man, she could have told Gianna and passed on the reins. Despite hoping that her twin would be happy to step in and take over, Carina knew that happy was probably going to be the last thing Gianna would feel about the situation.

She felt her husband still staring at her, and she lifted her eyes back to his. “Donovan likes Gianna. Everything he knows, he knows about Gianna. He doesn’t know me or anything about me! And when she finds out and gets to know him, she’s going to like him, too. I’d bet my last dollar on it. I just wanted her to be as happy as you and I are, and you know she wouldn’t have done anything like this on her own.”

Graham shook his head from side to side. “So when do you plan to tell Gianna?”

“Tell Gianna what?” Gianna asked as she moved into the room. She looked from one to the other. “What’s going on?”

Carina moved too quickly to her husband’s side, leaning against him for support. The two exchanged a quick look, a wave of nervous energy palpable around them.

Moving to the counter, Gianna dropped her bags against the wooden top. Her eyes were still locked on her sister and brother-in-law. The bubbling pot on the stove interrupted the moment as tomato sauce suddenly spewed over the sides and down to the stove top.

“Oh, hell!” Carina exclaimed, moving to lower the heat on their father’s meal.

Gianna watched with one hand on her hip as she waited for the duo to clean the mess. When the last dishrag had been rinsed, the pot back on simmer, she asked a second time, “So what is it that you have to tell me?”

Mumbling, Graham leaned over to kiss his wife’s cheek, then moved toward the door. Without another word, he disappeared through the entrance, leaving the two women alone. Gianna moved to stand in front of her sister, her arms crossed over her chest.

“What’s going on, Sissy?”

“Why don’t we sit down? Did you find everything you needed at the market?”

Gianna shook her head, her index finger waving in front of her sister’s face. “Oh, no, you don’t! You are not changing the subject, and don’t you move until you answer my question!”

Carina took a deep breath and then another. “I found you a boyfriend,” she said, and then she spewed out the story, not bothering to take another inhale of air until the last word had spilled past her lips.

* * *

“Open the door, Gianna,” Franco commanded. “You can’t hide in there forever.”

“I’m not hiding!” Gianna yelled back. “I just don’t want to talk to anyone.”

“Now, daughter! And don’t make me say it again.”

Gianna sighed deeply as she moved onto her feet toward her office door. She undid the lock and pulled it open just enough to peer out into the hallway. Standing on the other side, her father gave her that look, his mouth pursed tightly, his eyes narrowed. Sighing again, she stepped aside to let the man enter.

Franco moved to the upholstered sofa and sat down, turning his gaze to stare at his daughter. Neither spoke, Gianna still pouting in anger. As she sat down beside him, she couldn’t help but marvel at her father. His calm demeanor was soothing, and his dashing good looks made her smile.

The older she and her sister got, the more Gianna thought they were starting to look like their beloved father. His complexion was warm, his loose curls more silver than black. They had his nose and jawline, but neither had inherited his chilling blue eyes. He swore that both his girls resembled their mother, but Gianna didn’t necessarily agree, thinking they were a nice mesh of the two. She suddenly thought about her mother.

The beautiful black woman from New York City had been the love of her father’s life. A chance meeting while Angela Wilson had been an exchange student in Tuscany had solidified their future. Franco had always believed that they would have grown old together, but his beloved Angela had suffered a brain aneurysm when the twins were twelve years old. The loss had been devastating. Franco had thrown himself into running his family winery and loving his children. He still mourned the loss.

As long as Gianna could remember, she and her sister’s antics had been enough to keep him on his toes, and keep his head gray. And despite their love for one another, they spent more time angry with each other than not angry, with Gianna, the elder by ten minutes, always pouting because of something Carina had done.

“So when do you plan to speak to your sister?” her father asked.

Gianna rolled her eyes skyward. “Never! I cannot believe she would do this to me.”

“It was a little extreme, but her heart was in the right place.”

“This man is coming to visit, and he thinks there’s something between us and there isn’t. I don’t know anything about him.”

Her father nodded. “I imagine he’s going to be disappointed.”

“And his disappointment falls on me. She used my name. That’s unforgiveable.”

“Everything is forgivable.”

“Not this.”

Franco chuckled softly. “Even this. You just need to figure out how to make it right.”

“Why do I need to make it right? I didn’t do anything!”

“That may be true, but just like you pointed out, your sister used your name and now a man who doesn’t deserve it is going to be disappointed.”

Gianna screamed as she shook two fists in the air. “Aargh! I swear I could kill her!” She began to rant in her native Italian.

Franco chuckled softly. “That’s an option,” he said with a nod, “but I’m sure you can come up with something more creative. Something that will make everybody happy.” He tapped a warm palm against her knee.

Gianna shook her head as her father stood back on his feet.

“Carina loves you, Gianna. And you love her. What she did, she did out of love. Don’t you forget that, mia cara.” He leaned down to kiss her cheek.