throwing a small dinner party,” she said. “Tonight. Do you want to go? It’s casual. He assures me the guest list is well vetted.”
They hadn’t left the house in a week. Self-preservation warred with the gypsy part of her soul that liked parties and people and experiences. All of her parts liked Matt, so it wasn’t a hardship to wake up in his bed every morning.
“Sounds fun. As long as you’re okay with it.”
And that was why. He was amazing and intuitive and never crowded her. Gradually, she’d stopped practicing her exit strategy and just enjoyed hanging out with him. Plus, she’d grown rather fond of starring in Matt’s rodeo. The man shattered her with those eyes alone.
Was she okay with going out? It was dinner at Nicola’s house, not a public flogging. She hesitated.
“Nicola lives on the other end of the Grand Canal. How should we get there?”
With silent, reassuring strength, he covered Evangeline’s hand with his. “Private water taxi. Put on a big hat and a scarf. It’ll be dark. No one will know it’s you.”
“Done.” She accepted the invitation and deleted the other text message she’d received from her half sister, Lisa, without reading it, then spent an hour getting ready. Which gave her plenty of time to get worked up about her sister.
Lisa was seventeen. And her parents had been married. The anger, the sheer resentment was embedded deep. Their father had chosen a life with one daughter over the other—Evangeline would never forgive that. She sent Lisa extravagant Christmas gifts in a petty attempt to show her father there were no hard feelings. And maybe to quietly announce that hey, no dad needed for her to be a huge success.
Evangeline hadn’t spoken to her sister since the botched surgery. How many texts did she have to ignore for Lisa to give up? It wasn’t like they were real family.
Putting it out of her mind, she vowed not to let unpleasant history ruin the fun evening she and Matt had planned.
When Evangeline returned downstairs, Matt was waiting for her, dressed in dark jeans and a sweater. His eyebrows rose.
A floppy hat covered her pinned-up hair, a scarf hid the lower half of her face and giant sunglasses completed the disguise.
“Perfect.” Matt shot her a playful grin. “Except maybe lose the glasses. It is nighttime.”
She slipped them off and returned his smile. “Happy?”
“Always.”
That thrilled her to no end, to be responsible for Matt’s happiness. That was part of the reason she stayed. It was powerful to watch him slowly heal.
The taxi picked them up at Palazzo D’Inverno’s water entrance and motored away from the dock. The driver steered under the Ponte dell’Accademia and up the canal to Vincenzo’s cousin’s house. Twinkling stars competed with the twinkle of Venice, both lit for the night with stunning brilliance.
They arrived a few minutes later. Once inside, Evangeline started to introduce Matt and realized with no small amount of mortification that she didn’t know his last name. It hadn’t seemed important, until now.
With a quick grin that said he’d read Evangeline’s mind, he stuck out his hand to Nicola Mantovani, their hostess. “Matt Wheeler.”
He repeated it to Nicola’s boyfriend, Angelo. Vincenzo shook Matt’s hand and introduced his lady friend for the evening, whose name Evangeline promptly forgot. He never called his dates again anyway.
Nicola lifted an unobtrusive finger toward a uniformed servant, who sprang forward to pass out wineglasses full of deep red Chianti. The tiny, dark-haired Italian raised her glass. “A toast. To new friends.”
Expertly, Nicola finessed everyone to the lushly appointed salon where they took seats and chatted politely.
When Vincenzo launched into an impassioned review of the performance he’d seen at Teatro alla Scala the prior weekend, Evangeline leaned in to whisper in Matt’s ear. “Wheeler. That’s a nice last name.”
Matt grinned. “We haven’t
They hadn’t left the house in a week. Self-preservation warred with the gypsy part of her soul that liked parties and people and experiences. All of her parts liked Matt, so it wasn’t a hardship to wake up in his bed every morning.
“Sounds fun. As long as you’re okay with it.”
And that was why. He was amazing and intuitive and never crowded her. Gradually, she’d stopped practicing her exit strategy and just enjoyed hanging out with him. Plus, she’d grown rather fond of starring in Matt’s rodeo. The man shattered her with those eyes alone.
Was she okay with going out? It was dinner at Nicola’s house, not a public flogging. She hesitated.
“Nicola lives on the other end of the Grand Canal. How should we get there?”
With silent, reassuring strength, he covered Evangeline’s hand with his. “Private water taxi. Put on a big hat and a scarf. It’ll be dark. No one will know it’s you.”
“Done.” She accepted the invitation and deleted the other text message she’d received from her half sister, Lisa, without reading it, then spent an hour getting ready. Which gave her plenty of time to get worked up about her sister.
Lisa was seventeen. And her parents had been married. The anger, the sheer resentment was embedded deep. Their father had chosen a life with one daughter over the other—Evangeline would never forgive that. She sent Lisa extravagant Christmas gifts in a petty attempt to show her father there were no hard feelings. And maybe to quietly announce that hey, no dad needed for her to be a huge success.
Evangeline hadn’t spoken to her sister since the botched surgery. How many texts did she have to ignore for Lisa to give up? It wasn’t like they were real family.
Putting it out of her mind, she vowed not to let unpleasant history ruin the fun evening she and Matt had planned.
When Evangeline returned downstairs, Matt was waiting for her, dressed in dark jeans and a sweater. His eyebrows rose.
A floppy hat covered her pinned-up hair, a scarf hid the lower half of her face and giant sunglasses completed the disguise.
“Perfect.” Matt shot her a playful grin. “Except maybe lose the glasses. It is nighttime.”
She slipped them off and returned his smile. “Happy?”
“Always.”
That thrilled her to no end, to be responsible for Matt’s happiness. That was part of the reason she stayed. It was powerful to watch him slowly heal.
The taxi picked them up at Palazzo D’Inverno’s water entrance and motored away from the dock. The driver steered under the Ponte dell’Accademia and up the canal to Vincenzo’s cousin’s house. Twinkling stars competed with the twinkle of Venice, both lit for the night with stunning brilliance.
They arrived a few minutes later. Once inside, Evangeline started to introduce Matt and realized with no small amount of mortification that she didn’t know his last name. It hadn’t seemed important, until now.
With a quick grin that said he’d read Evangeline’s mind, he stuck out his hand to Nicola Mantovani, their hostess. “Matt Wheeler.”
He repeated it to Nicola’s boyfriend, Angelo. Vincenzo shook Matt’s hand and introduced his lady friend for the evening, whose name Evangeline promptly forgot. He never called his dates again anyway.
Nicola lifted an unobtrusive finger toward a uniformed servant, who sprang forward to pass out wineglasses full of deep red Chianti. The tiny, dark-haired Italian raised her glass. “A toast. To new friends.”
Expertly, Nicola finessed everyone to the lushly appointed salon where they took seats and chatted politely.
When Vincenzo launched into an impassioned review of the performance he’d seen at Teatro alla Scala the prior weekend, Evangeline leaned in to whisper in Matt’s ear. “Wheeler. That’s a nice last name.”
Matt grinned. “We haven’t
Similar Books
