She huffed out a breath, so relieved she had to reach into her purse and find a tissue.
As the Ferrari had swung round the twisting mountain roads to the Lorenzo farm, she’d begun to doubt her decision to make Gio come to the christening.
What if she’d been wrong to suggest he come? What if the family didn’t welcome him as she expected?
With each mile that passed Gio had become more tense and withdrawn, answering her questions in curt sentences and handling the car with none of his usual skill. It was the first time she’d ever seen him nervous, and his reaction had forced her into admitting an unpleasant truth.
What had made her think she had the right to meddle in his life? He’d never shown any interest in meddling in hers. They’d been in an intimate relationship for a grand total of three days. An intimate relationship that would be over very soon. Yes, they were friends, but that was all they were. Did that really give her the right to make assumptions about what he needed in his life?
Now, as Carlo continued to chat away to Gio, she let her pleasure at the wonderful way Gio’s family had greeted him push the doubts away. This could have gone so horribly wrong. But it hadn’t—which counted for a lot.
‘You are Giovanni’s ragazza, yes?’
Issy glanced round to see a petite, pretty and heavily pregnant young woman dressed in a colourful summer dress smiling at her.
Issy stuffed the tissue back into her bag and held out her hand. ‘I’m Issy Helligan,’ she said quickly, not quite sure how to reply to the question.
Didn’t ragazza mean girlfriend? Was she Gio’s girlfriend? Not really. Not in any permanent sense.
‘I’m a friend of Gio’s,’ she said, feeling oddly dispirited. ‘I’m so sorry, but I don’t speak much Italian.’
‘It is good I speak excellent English, then,’ the woman said, her brown eyes—which were the exact shade of Gio’s—alight with mischief. ‘Or we would not be able to gossip about my long-lost cousin. My name is —after La Loren.’ She wrinkled her nose. ‘Sadly, I only got her name and not her body.’
Issy laughed, liking Sophia instantly. ‘When is your baby due?’ she asked.
Sophia looked down at her bump, her eyes glowing as she stroked it. ‘In two weeks. But my husband Aldo says it will be sooner. Our two boys were early, and he will not let me forget it.’
‘That’s sweet,’ she said unable to deny the whisper of envy.
Hearing the love and contentment in Sophia’s voice made Issy want to reach for her tissue again. This woman looked younger than her, and she already had two children and another on the way—and a man who loved her.
What on earth have I been doing with my life?
‘Come.’ Sophia deftly linked her arm with Issy’s. ‘I have been told to fetch you by my sisters, my aunts and all my girl cousins.’ She drew her away from Gio, who looked shell-shocked and a little hunted as Carlo introduced him to more relatives he had never met.
‘They all want to know about you and Giovanni,’ Sophia added, dropping her voice to a conspiratorial whisper. ‘He is like the prodigal son, no? You are very beautiful.’ She gave Issy an appreciative once-over. ‘And we are very nosy.’
‘Oh, Gio and I aren’t really…’ Issy hesitated. ‘We’re not exactly…’ She paused again. She didn’t want to mislead Sophia, but how did she describe what she and Gio were, exactly? ‘There isn’t that much to gossip about,’ she said lamely, glancing over her shoulder. ‘And I feel like a traitor leaving Gio alone. I’m the one who suggested he come today.’
Gio glared at her as he was kissed and hugged by a group of older men she assumed were his other uncles.
‘Giovanni is a big boy,’ Sophia said, patting Issy’s arm and tugging her towards a huge trestle table on the farm’s flagstone terrace, laden with an array of mouth-watering dishes. ‘And he will not be alone.’
A large group of women and girls, ranging in age from twelve to ninety, clustered around the table, watching Issy with undisguised curiosity—making her feel like even more of a fraud.
‘My father has been waiting for over twenty years to see il ragazzo perduto again,’ Sophia added. ‘He will be showing him off for hours. But when the dancing starts we will get him back for you.’
Dancing? Issy smiled at the thought. Funny to think she’d never danced with Gio before.
She allowed Sophia to lead her away, ignoring the panicked plea in Gio’s eyes. It would do him good to be fêted by his family. That was exactly why they were here. So that he could reconnect with what really mattered in life. And it wouldn’t do her any harm to stay out of his way. To absorb the wonder of this large, happy and loving family—and reconnect with her own priorities in life.
‘What does il ragazzo perduto mean?’ she asked absently.
Sophia sent her a warm smile. ‘Carlo calls Giovanni “the lost boy”. He has worried about him ever since he went to Rome years ago and met him. Carlo said without the family he had no one to love him, to care for him.’ Sophia’s smile turned knowing. ‘But, seeing the way you look at him, I don’t think he’s lost any more.’
Issy’s pulse jumped at the softly spoken words.
Pardon me?