I frown down at her. ‘I’m not the one you should be asking.’
My voice is still too low to be overheard above the general hubbub around us, but I’m aware I stand out. I’m standing at the table with Dani’s hand clasped around mine, her concerned gaze on me, for me, when I should be concerned with making sure she stays happy, not the other way around. I immediately regret my snappy retort.
Hell, who am I to get between them? What do I know about sibling relationships? I just know that he didn’t look okay when he left and I’d like to think that, if he was my brother, I’d go after him.
Dani’s eyes quietly search mine and I plaster on a smile.
‘Sorry. That didn’t come out right. What I mean is, I’m fine and I’m going to make sure your brother is.’ I lean down and press my cheek to hers, giving her shoulders a gentle squeeze. ‘It’s my job as maid of honour to smooth over any troubles this week, and I’d feel happier knowing he’s okay rather than assuming it.’
I feel a small stab of guilt that it’s not quite the full truth. That in actual fact my few encounters with her brother have shown me another side to him, one that Dani doesn’t seem to know exists, and it’s that knowledge of him that has me wanting to go to him now.
He’s done so much to ensure this wedding comes off without a hitch that to get up and walk out during dinner isn’t something he would do lightly.
But I can’t let her know any of that. Not right this second, at any rate. Instead, I give her one more squeeze. ‘Save some Eton Mess for me, won’t you?’
She taps my hand, her smile one of gratitude now. ‘Will do. And don’t let him keep you too long. We thought we’d play cards after dinner. If you can coax Raf away from his work, it’d be nice if he could join us too.’
‘I’ll see what I can do.’
One last smile and I’m walking in his direction, hoping he has stuck to the softly lit path, because if he hasn’t I’m never going to find him. It’s hard to hear anything over the chatter back at the table and the ripple of the insects in the undergrowth. The further I walk, the more the insects take over, and I realise I have no idea where he is. I’m almost at the pool when I sense movement off to my right and see a shadow in amongst the vines. Rafael?
I squint into the darkness but it’s no use. I start blindly in that direction, hoping there’s nothing in the undergrowth about to attack me. I feel oddly vulnerable leaving the path behind, the vines running either side of me, the trill of the insects even louder now; I breathe in deeply and let the scent of Tuscany soothe my elevated pulse.
‘Rafael?’ I call out softly and the shadow becomes a definite figure as he turns to face me. His eyes glitter in the darkness, the moonlight cast through the vines streaking across his face, and I can make out his hands shoved deep into his pockets. ‘Is everything...is everything okay?’
‘What are you doing here?’ His tone is hard, so hard I wonder if I’ve misjudged the situation. Maybe I’m the last person he wants coming after him.
‘Sorry, I just wanted to make sure you’re okay. I can... I can go.’ I start to turn away and he steps forward, his hand closing softly around my wrist and sending a zip of warmth right through my arm.
‘No, I’m sorry.’ He stops to stand before me, so close I can feel his breath brush against my hair. ‘Like I said before, my family—or, rather, my mother—brings out the worst in me.’
I look up into his eyes and search their harrowed depths for the answers I so desperately want, even though I hardly know him. It’s been less than twenty-four hours, yet it feels like a lifetime, and I can’t stop the question from surfacing. ‘Why did you leave?’
He shakes his head and rakes a hand through his hair as he looks to the darkened vineyard rather than me. ‘You won’t understand.’
‘Try me. Please.’
He flicks me a look and I can see the hesitation in the line forming between his brows.
‘I want to understand.’
He wets his lips and I sense his nervousness. The severe, strong, confident Rafael is nervous and my heart flutters with the realisation.
‘My mother never speaks of my father. She never speaks of Tuscany or our time here. It...it was a shock.’
‘It hurt you.’
He scoffs. ‘It made me uncomfortable.’
‘Why? Because it makes you realise that perhaps you and your mother have more in common than you think?’
‘We are nothing alike.’
I place a palm on his arm. ‘She seemed very genuine.’
Another scoff.
‘You don’t think she was?’