A Tuscan Proposal

Chapter 6

Francesca cringed at the sound of flesh hitting flesh.

Gabe's head flew back and he stumbled; Luca shook his hand out and muttered a spate of curses in Italian. She rushed over to check on Gabe, secretly pondering the stupidity of men. She lifted her hand to his jaw, but he caught her wrist before she could touch him.

Beneath the anger in his gaze, she saw the hurt, and though she had her own reasons to be angry, she couldn't bear knowing that she'd hurt him—no matter how inadvertently. "Idiota," she said softly. "Luca is my cousin."

The fierceness in his gaze faded as it shifted to Luca, who was flexing his fingers and grumbling about hard-headed Americans.

Gabe closed his eyes. "I am an idiot. And I'm sorry."

She touched her cool fingers to the redness of his jaw. He winced slightly, and she turned to glower at her cousin. But before she could say anything more, her grandparents were there.

"What's going on here?" Nonno demanded.

The two men eyed one another warily but remained silent.

"Francesca?" Nonna prompted.

"A misunderstanding," she hedged. "This is Gabe Palermo, a friend of mine from Charisma. Gabe—these are my grandparents, Enzo and Allegra Sacchetti. And my cousin, Luca."

"You're a long way from home." Both Nonno's tone and his posture conveyed suspicion.

"And probably hungry," Nonna said, because she didn't believe there was any problem so big it couldn't be solved with food. "Come and have lunch with us."

Francesca set an extra plate out and they sat at the table—Gabe holding a bag of frozen corn to his jaw; Luca with another of frozen peas on his hand—to enjoy a meal of baked chicken and creamy risotto with roasted peppers.

Her grandmother was a wonderful cook and mealtimes around the big wooden table had always been one of the highlights of Francesca's trips to Italy. But today, with Gabe seated beside her, her head and her heart were both too confused to allow her to fully appreciate the meal.

"Where are you staying?" Nonno asked Gabe, when everyone had eaten their fill and Francesca started to clear the dishes away from the table.

"I'll figure that out when I go back into town."

"You flew from America without first arranging a hotel?"

"He was eager to see Francesca," Nonna said. "And he doesn't need a hotel—he can stay here."

Her grandfather responded to that with an immediate and vehement, "No way in hell," which didn't sound any less fierce for its delivery in Italian.

"We have enough room," his wife replied in the same language. "And it will be easier to keep an eye if he is close by."

"And easier for them to sneak off together, if they have a mind to do so."

"If they have a mind to, it will not matter where he is sleeping," Allegra pointed out. "Young love will not be denied."

"It will be denied under my roof," her husband insisted, his expression dark.

"I guess they don't realize I understand every word they're saying?" Gabe asked Francesca.

"They don't care," she said.

Then Luca interrupted the grandparents' bickering to say, "He could stay at my place."

"Because that wouldn't be awkward," Francesca said dryly.

"I don't hold a grudge," her cousin said.