Page 85 of A Winter Wedding Adventure
He wasn’t quite sure what was driving him, especially since nothing had changed. A few tears at a wedding didn’t mean she’d apply for the job as his soulmate. Even if she’d started to realise she’d been shutting out romance after being hurt, he was in all likelihood not the person she’d risk making an exception to her ‘just casual’ rule for.
As much as he fancied the idea of that.
‘How do you think it went?’ he asked her.
She looked at him warily, but that was nothing new. ‘Surprisingly smoothly. She was lucky to have you to sing.’
He gave a shrug, even as his smile stretched to silly proportions. ‘I had to sing “Nessun dorma” in a tenor key. These instrumentalists couldn’t transpose it in time and unfortunately, I’m not Pavarotti. But I think it was okay.’
‘It was more than okay,’ she said, her tone oddly fragile. ‘You don’t need to be Pavarotti.’
‘I suppose I am slimmer, although his charisma was?—’
She whacked him with the backs of her fingers. ‘You know that’s not what I meant.’
‘You don’t think I’m slimmer?’
She rolled her eyes, but a smile turned up the corners of her mouth and that had been his goal.
‘That top is nice, but what happened to the one we bought yesterday?’ He’d enjoyed going shopping with her, even though she’d complained at every boutique he’d dragged her into and shown an almost complete lack of taste.
Tugging at the blouse that was definitely too big in the chest, she grimaced. ‘It caught on fire. I knew I was bad luck at weddings.’
Mattia felt a jab in those words, as though she’d meant them as a reminder that this thing between them was casual – as though she didn’t know the word ‘casual’ had been stamped all over him as he tried to remind himself while also sliding helplessly into something very much like admiration for prickly, practical Kira Watling.
‘If you caught on fire, but the wedding was still as beautiful as that, I think there’s more good luck involved than you think. You didn’t burn yourself?’
She shook her head.
‘I’m glad of that, but it’s a shame. I liked that shirt.’
‘So did I,’ she admitted, ‘but I don’t have much call for blouses. I probably wouldn’t have worn it again.’
She stared at the altar as she spoke, as though fascinated by the crochet cloths and the gold chalice, but discomfort skittered over Mattia’s skin. She wasn’t interested in the altar. She was forcing out flat words to cool any feelings that might flare – specifically between them, he guessed.
He had the answer to the question he’d been too skittish to ask. She would let him down gently and tomorrow, they’d say goodbye. He’d said he’d take responsibility for his own feelings. Now he had to do it.
He just didn’t want to.
34
‘I must add this place to our files,’ Sophie was muttering after dinner, tablet and stylus in hand. ‘This rustic style is right on trend and the municipality was so helpful organising this. Do you think the manager has a second to?—’
‘No,’ Andreas grunted from the other side of their table. ‘You’re not supposed to be working right now. If we’re missing out on the ski tour I had planned for us over New Year’s, the least you can do is dance with me.’
‘Aw, so romantic,’ Ginny gushed as Andreas snatched the tablet out of Sophie’s hands and hauled her to her feet.
Kira rolled her eyes.
‘Excuse me,’ Sophie said indignantly. ‘If you left me for six weeks to climb some mountain after we’d only just got engaged, you can wait five minutes for me to finish what I was doing.’
‘Aw,’ Kira repeated with a pointed look at Ginny. ‘That’s romance.’
The wedding planner shrugged. ‘What do I know about romance?’ Her eyes drifted to the dance floor, where Alessandra and Joe were swaying to ‘At Last’ – the Beyoncé version. Kira caught sight of Rhys hunched in the corner, his camera to his eye – pointed right at Kira.
She flipped him the middle finger and he lowered the camera to return the gesture with a smile.
Alessandra’s mother Francesca chose that moment to appear at their table and Kira flushed to the roots of her hair. She didn’t expect that particular hand gesture was approved by Italians. But if Francesca had seen it, she didn’t mention it.
