Page 153 of The One
“Plus, Tiero prefers his island.”
Mari’s mouth falls open. “He’s got an island?” she asks, almost in disbelief.
“He does. But you don’t know about it, of course. It’s as secret as this farmhouse.”
“Of course, I don’t,” she laughs as we walk around the side of the house. “I much prefer this over an island. I like the idea of being able to leave whenever I want.”
“Funny you say that. That was my thinking too. And I want to be able to see if anybody is approaching. From this elevated position, I can. There are a lot of hidden security measures in place. We’re completely safe here.”
“And you’ve never brought anybody here?” she wonders as we step onto the large stone terrace lining the back of the house. Her eyes widen as she drinks in the view of the distant Mediterranean Sea. “Wow!” She’s radiating with happiness.
“You’re the first,” I reply as I watch her delight. “I’m honored,” she whispers, snaking her arms around my waist.
I pull her closer, needing to erase even the smallest distance between us. “Well, you are going to be my wife. What’s mine is yours.”
She smiles but shakes her head. “It’s still hard to get my head around that.”
I kiss her, gently but with intent. “Get used to it,dolcezza. Because you’re not getting rid of me.”
I have to swallow the growing lump in my throat.
I love this place and come here as often as I can. Alone with my thoughts, I can switch off from everything my life usually involves.
I’ve always considered it home. But now that Mari is standing here, I realize it was missing a fundamental ingredient. Her.
Actually, home is wherever Mariella Accardi, soon to be Mrs. De Marco, is.
“Now are you going to show me the inside? Or are we spending the night out here?” she teases, tickling my ribs.
Without another word, I take her hand and we walk back around to the front. I pull out an old-fashioned key, slipping it into the lock. Then I reach for the hidden panel in the stonework, enter the security code, and scan my palm. The key turns on its own, and I push the door open with a smooth motion.
“Fancy,” Mari says with a chuckle, her eyes sparkling with curiosity. “What do I do if I lock myself out?”
I glance at her, grinning. “We’ll add your handprint tomorrow,” I reply, and pull her inside.
Chapter Fifty-Eight
Mariella
Teo strides ahead as we step into the house and starts to remove the dust sheets draped over the furniture. A faint layer of dust clings to every exposed surface, catching the light streaming through the tall windows.
“I haven’t been here for a few months,” he says, his tone casual but apologetic, as if he’s preemptively answering the questions he expects me to ask.
I walk behind him into the open space, a seamless blend of living room, dining area, and a kitchen that’s discreetly tucked to one side. The architecture is stunning, yet unpretentious, with high ceilings that make it seem larger.
It’s airy and drenched in natural light, the kind of place that instantly puts you at ease. I can’t stop myself from smiling. I’m already in love.
Teo picks up a sleek device that looks like an iPad from the kitchen counter, his fingers moving swiftly across the screen. There’s a softclick-clackas locks disengage, followed by a mechanical hum.
He steps toward the large bifold window panels that frame the far wall, their size commanding the space. With a smooth motion, he pulls them open, inviting the crisp fall air to flood the room. The sharp tang of fallen leaves mixes with the faint scent of wood and earth. It’s refreshing.
“Better air the place,” he murmurs, but there’s an edge to his voice, something faintly uncertain.
Is he nervous?
No, that can’t be right. Mateo De Marco never is.
Still, I don’t question my instincts, and move toward him and wrap my arms around his waist, hugging him tightly.
