Miracle for the Girl Next Door / Mother of the Bride: Miracle for the Girl Next Door. Rebecca Winters

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      After dressing in jeans and a filmy light-orange blouse with a ruffled neckline and three-quarter sleeves, Clara went to the kitchen. On the days she worked at the fruit stand, her mother always packed her a lunch.

      Once she’d grabbed it and a bottle of water from the fridge, she headed out of the farmhouse. There were only a few wispy clouds above. The air was soft, just the right temperature so she wouldn’t overheat while she waited on customers.

      Clara felt brighter than usual today. She could attribute her energized condition to Valentino, who’d made yesterday morning magical for her. He would hate it if she told him he’d been like Cinderella’s fairy godmother, transforming her life for that hour they’d spent together. It had been liberating to be treated like a normal person.

      With her thoughts so full of him, she didn’t realize it was Silvio, not Tomaso, who’d done the setting up with the produce from his truck and was waiting for her at the stand.

      That was why he’d left the breakfast table early. Now that they were alone, she braced herself for what she sensed was coming. The knowledge cast a shadow on the beauty of the morning.

      His dark eyes squinted at her. “I heard you were at the pasticceria with Valentino yesterday morning. Signora Bonelli’s son was in the back working and saw you.”

      “So?”

      After a sustained pause, “You shouldn’t be letting that scum hang around you.”

      She took a deep breath. “Don’t talk that way about Valentino to me. You know nothing about him. Furthermore, you don’t have the right.”

      His scowl grew more pronounced. “You spent your whole life being his shadow. When he went away, he never gave you another thought. Now that he’s back and has seen how beautiful you are, he’s decided to make you his next conquest before he leaves town again.”

      Clara rubbed her temples with her fingers, feeling the beginnings of a headache coming on. If she put herself in her brother’s place, she could understand where he was coming from except for one reason. “We’re friends, Silvio. He doesn’t feel that way about me, nor I him.” Valentino doesn’t try to protect me.

      Silvio’s face looked like thunder. “A man like him is capable of using a woman whether he has feelings for her or not. It infuriates me that he has suddenly shown up and taken over like he used to do.”

      “What do you mean take over? We were close friends all the years we were growing up. Is it so terrible that he wants to see me and catch up while he’s in town?”

      “What about Leandro?”

      “What about him? I wasn’t interested in him after our first date.”

      His features grew hard. “No one wants you to find love more than I do, but we’re talking about Valentino Casali, who isn’t capable of it, Clara. You realize it’s all over the media that he’s been living with that French actress.”

      “I know, but while he’s here to see his father, he has decided to take time to renew some old friendships. We met on the staircase near the Piazza Gaspare by accident the other day. You make this sound so sinister when it’s nothing like that.”

      Her brother wasn’t listening. “You’re risking your happiness to be with him again. Are you out of your mind to let him come around you?”

      “If I am, it’s my business.”

      “Clara—” he cried, and put his hands on her shoulders, suddenly contrite. “I didn’t mean that the way it sounded.”

      “I know you didn’t.” Silvio’s heart was in the right place, but he’d forgotten she wasn’t a child he could order around anymore.

      “Don’t you know I’d do anything for you? I love you. That’s why I don’t want to see Valentino take you for a ride and then dump you like he’s done all the other women in his life.”

      She eased away from him. Valentino had never shown her anything but friendship. But the implication that her brother had only ever thought of her as someone to be exploited by him, rather than be considered a lover, carried its own cruel sting.

      To her relief a car pulled up the to the covered stand, preventing further conversation. It was a former customer who got into a lively conversation with her. By the time the man drove away again, Silvio had already taken off in his truck for another part of the farm. Much as she loved her brother, she was glad he’d been forced to get back to work.

      For the next five hours business was fairly brisk. Clara sat at the small wooden table with the cash box and ate lunch while she waited for more customers. She’d brought a mystery book to read, but the conversation with Silvio had shaken her and she realized her mind was too focused on Valentino to get into it.

      Around two-thirty she saw an old blue half-ton pickup truck coming closer. It lumbered up to the stand. The gears ground before it pulled to a stop. She got to her feet.

      “Buon giorno, signore!” she called to the man in the straw hat and sunglasses climbing out of the cab. With his burgundy T-shirt and jeans covering his well-honed physique, she thought he looked familiar.

      “It is a good afternoon now that I’ve arrived and see you standing there.”

      That voice—like running velvet over gravel. “Tino—”

      “I guess my disguise isn’t so bad.”

      She laughed so hard she almost cried. He threw his head back and laughed with her. Only Valentino would come up with something so completely outrageous. Beneath the brim, his sensual mouth had broken into a heart-stopping smile she couldn’t help but reciprocate.

      Everyone else wrapped her in cotton wool, but not Valentino. He was such an original and so charismatic, her heart took flight around him. Right now it was racing too fast and made her slightly dizzy. “Until you got out, the old truck and the kind of hat my grandfather used to wear had me completely fooled.”

      “Then it’s possible I’ve eluded the usual horde of paparazzi.”

      Before she could countenance it, he went around to open the truck’s tailgate. The next thing she knew he’d produced about twenty new bushel-sized baskets that he stacked near the table.

      “Is this all that’s left of today’s produce?” He motioned to the few remaining baskets of fruits and olives.

      “Yes.”

      Without saying anything else he loaded them in the back of his truck and shut the tailgate. Then he pulled out his wallet and put some bills in the cash box. They represented double the amount she would have received if she’d sold everything by the end of the day.

      “Don’t worry,” he said, reading the question in her eyes. “The produce I’ve purchased won’t go to waste.”

      She shook her head in amusement. “What are you up to?” The sunglasses hid a lot from view.

      “What do you think? I intend to spend the rest of the day with you. Now that you’ve been bought out, you’re free to take the time off and СКАЧАТЬ