The Moretti Arrangement by Katherine Garbera Page A

her knew it did.
    “You have to let it go. I did.”
    “Did you?” she asked, trying not to be distracted by the movement of his thigh muscles under her hand.
    “Yes. Though it was hard for me because your actions felt like disloyalty. And I’m also a bit jealous that you would go to another man,” he said. There was a bit of vehemence in his voice that suggested he might not be as forgiving as he’d said.
    “I never had a loyalty to anyone but you and to my family.”
    “And that is why I am letting it go. That and the fact that we can never have any kind of relationship if I didn’t.”
    She caught her breath. “Relationship? Do you mean something beyond the six months we agreed to?”
    He glanced over at her. “I do mean that, Angelina, but we will talk when we get to my villa.”
    She felt a flutter in the pit of her stomach, and for the first time since her parents died that scared, lonely part of her relaxed. The feelings she had for Dominic were strong, and knowing that he wanted to continue the relationship with her made her realize that Marta had a point to something she’d said earlier.
    There was a Mr. Right for each woman, and Dominic was hers.
    “Tell me about your holidays at Lake Como,” he said.
    “My grandparents brought us one summer. Only that once. Renni and I were eight and ten and Nono rented a boat and we spent all day on the lake. I pretended I was a princess and Renni was a pirate.”
    He glanced over at her and smiled. “Sounds like it was fun.”
    It had been. “It was. I haven’t thought of that time in years.”
    “That’s natural. You’re not someone who looks back all the time.”
    “True. Life is lived in the now, isn’t it? I learned that from working with you. When someone makes a mistake you don’t brush it aside, but you learn from it as you move on. I had never seen anyone do that before.”
    “Given the nature of my family, it’s either learn and move on or wither and die talking about the glory days. And talking isn’t productive.”
    “Isn’t it?”
    “Not unless there’s a purpose to it.”
    He continued talking to her about his life philosophy, and she listened, soaking up the sound of his voice and the feel of his leg under her hand. She liked the connection she felt to Dominic and realized that no matter what happened later in their relationship, he’d given her something that no one else had.
    He’d given her the belief in herself that she was more than worthy of being his woman.

    Their drive continued. The moon was full and the late-summer sky bright. She couldn’t wait for the start of autumn.
    “Tell me about your holidays on Lake Como,” she said.
    He thought back to those long days when he’d been a young boy. “When I was eight or so, I didn’t realize we were the poor relations. My grandfather had let us move into his compound in Milan since my mother worked nearby, and he had servants to help during the day with raising us.”
    “What changed?” she asked.
    He was a man who’d built his life on pride. He admitted that and knew that how the world perceived him was important to him. “It was that summer. Tony and I used to gang up on Marco…What can I say—he was an annoying little brother.”
    “Aren’t they all?” she said with a hint of laughter in her voice.
    “Indeed. Well, we dared Marco to jump out of the tree house my father had built for us. And his friend Gui was visiting with us, as well. So Marco and Gui go up in the tree house and jump from the platform. It was about three meters high, and when Marco landed he twisted his knee and broke his leg. Gui was right alongside him and only twisted his ankle.”
    “You must have been upset that he got hurt, but how did that change your perception of money?”
    “Gui’s family was very angry and threatened to sue my parents for negligence. It was a bigger deal than we imagined, and my grandfather pulled us aside and told us to stop being so…ridiculous—that’s the