The night Vito had thrown Lily out, Luigi’s kindness had been an absolute godsend for her. Trapped in a fogbound city, with every hotel she’d tried full and every mode of transport closed to her, Luigi had literally saved the day. He’d arranged for her to stay in his mother’s guest room—no questions asked—and then he’d seen her safely to the airport himself the following morning.
‘Not Luigi’s?’ Vito asked, a vertical crease forming between his brows as he studied her. ‘Why not?’
‘It’s up to you, if you’re set on going there.’ Lily stumbled for words. She’d done nothing wrong, but Vito was a proud Venetian man, and she knew instinctively that he would not appreciate the fact that she’d accepted help from another man. ‘But I’d really love to go out to that place on Burano. I’ve got a craving for fish.’
‘Very well.’ Turning to leave, Vito suddenly stopped and pinned her with his piercing blue gaze. ‘This meal is a celebration,’ he said. ‘Wear something suitable for such an occasion.’
Lily stared at his retreating back in irritation, wondering— if he’d deliberately meant to provoke her by being so autocratic. It was hard to get used to the way he was treating her now. He’d always been a dominant force, but he’d never blatantly ordered her about before.
She stood up and walked across the room to look out of the tall, arched window. Sleek black gondolas loaded with tourists glided past on the jade-green canal below. She watched the languid ripples glimmering on the surface of the water, thinking about how her life had changed.
She wasn’t a tourist any more. She wasn’t even a visitor.
She was in Venice to stay.
She pulled her thoughts together and headed upstairs to dress for dinner. She’d show Vito that she understood the rules of the game. He wouldn’t need to waste his time approving her choice of wardrobe—her instincts for self-preservation wouldn’t allow her to put herself through that humiliation again.
She’d accepted that Vito was utterly serious in his intention to marry her, and although the circumstances were not what she would have chosen she was determined to make the best of the situation.
She owed it to herself not to let the virile, masculine power of his personality completely overshadow her. She must take on the responsibility of creating a life for herself in Venice, and to prepare a place in this family for her unborn child.
And she knew that the best route forward was to stop fighting against Vito, to find a way to work within his rules. The way to stand up for herself was to be proactive. It would be better to try to influence how things happened in the first place, rather than battle with Vito after the event.
A little while later they were zipping across the lagoon towards the island of Burano.
‘I’ve missed being out on the water,’ Lily said, glancing at Vito. The golden evening light gilded his jet-black hair and cast a warm glow over his face, but his features were set in a shuttered expression. There was no way of knowing what he was thinking. ‘It was one of my favourite things about living here, even though it was winter.’
‘You never did seem to feel the cold,’ Vito said shortly. Then, despite the fact it should have been obvious she was trying to start a conversation, he fell silent again, his expression still closed to her.
With a small sigh, Lily turned to look at the view, determined to enjoy the rest of the boat trip. The low angle of the sun across the water was creating a beautiful effect—dark indigo waves rippled against goldenorange ribbons of reflected sunlight. It was true that she’d always loved being out on the lagoon, and she wasn’t going to let Vito’s brooding silence mar her pleasure in the amazing view.
Before long they were approaching the picturesque island. With its gaily painted houses and simple style, it seemed a million miles away from Venice. There were no hotels on the island, and as the evening drew in the tourists disappeared back to the city. The local artisans packed away their handmade lace and other crafts, and fishermen and their families came outside to enjoy an evening stroll.
The driver brought the boat to a standstill on one side of the harbour, then jumped out athletically to tie the craft up. Vito disembarked first, turning to offer Lily support as she climbed out of the swaying boat onto the quayside.
She reached for him automatically, but the instant their hands made contact a jolt of highly charged sensual energy ran through her. She snatched her hand away with a gasp, then stumbled awkwardly as the boat lurched with the movement of the water.
Vito’s fingers closed around her forearm, his grip strong and steadying, but he didn’t speak as she climbed out onto the quay.