Page 29 of Modern Romance May 2026 Books 5-8
She had joined him for dinner last night. Smiled, laughed, touched his arm, looked into his eyes. It was her best ever performance. Anyone watching would have thought she was so in love with him that she could hardly see straight.
And then they had gone upstairs, and as he’d closed her bedroom door, it was as if a switch had flipped. The smile had faded and her voice had flattened as she’d said goodnight.
At breakfast, she had turned back into a smiling, nodding doll. Lunch had been a near identical performance. And it was driving him insane. Only he could hardly demand that she be herself, could he?
His groin hardened as he remembered that kiss in his hotel room and how her hand had been pushing and pressing against his chest as if she hadn’t been sure what she’d wanted to happen. But her mouth had been sure.
Right now, though, he wasn’t entirely sure that Dulcie would even show up.
Pushing that thought away, he smiled at his cousin. ‘She’s just getting ready.’
Or shinning down the ivy again, only this time with her suitcase in tow.
‘Apparently she is ready,’ Checco said, and Ettore felt his cousin, felt the entire gathering, shift direction minutely. The flow of conversation receded like a wave pulling away from the shoreline and the terrace seemed to shrink inwards, centring on the woman in the simple V-neck, sleeveless dress.
Ettore felt his throat constrict. He never tired of looking at the castle or the land around it. Every day he marvelled at the majesty and beauty of his surroundings. But Dulcie was so beautiful she made all of it disappear.
His gaze moved hungrily over the cornflower-blue floral fabric that clung to her breasts and waist before flaring out to a skirt that skimmed her mid thighs.
The stylist had chosen well, but Dulcie wore it better. The dress had a hint of sixties flowerchild that matched the challenge in her blue eyes. It was what had first attracted him to her. The women he knew, the women he’d dated before her, were like hothouse orchids, trained from birth to aspire to perfection.
Dulcie was more like the wildflowers that breached the estate’s stone walls and pushed up through the earth to cluster around the base of the vines. Nothing would ever keep her down for long, he thought with relief. She would always push back, fight for the light.
He heard Checco whistle softly between his teeth, but he was already moving towards her.
As he stopped beside her, he hesitated then leaned in and kissed her softly on the mouth. ‘You look beautiful.’
‘Thank you. Sorry, I’m late,’ she murmured, her voice just loud enough for those nearby to hear. ‘I just couldn’t get my hair to do what I wanted. Valentina had to help me.’
Her hair was swept up into another updo, this one more elegant than the previous. But a few rebellious curls still framed her face. Despite that, she looked every inch the perfect wife, the perfect marchesa.
‘Aren’t you going to introduce us?’ Checco appeared at his elbow; his dark brown eyes were narrowed in approval.
He held out his hand and when Dulcie held out hers, he lifted it to his mouth.
‘Sono incantato,’he said softly. ‘I’m Francesco, Ettore’s cousin, but everyone calls me Checco.’
‘Dulcie. But I guess you know that already.’
‘I believe this is your first time to Fiana.’ Ettore’s uncle stepped forward smoothly.
‘Yes, it’s beautiful.’ Dulcie smiled. ‘I feel like I’m dreaming. I keep having to pinch myself.’
‘It has that effect, I’m told. Obviously, we’re all so used to it.’
Ettore moved to rest his hand lightly around Dulcie’s waist. ‘This is my uncle, Frederico. My father’s younger brother.’
‘Younger but no less deserving.’ Frederico smiled languidly. ‘We’ve all been so excited to meet you, Dulcie. I think maybe you have bewitched my nephew. He’s always been so critical of our impulsiveness. And yet all along he’s had a secret wife.’
‘It wasn’t a secret, Zio,’ Ettore said calmly. He was used to his uncle pushing buttons.
Frederico raised an eyebrow, doing confusion. ‘Did I miss the wedding invitation?’
‘It was very small. Just the two of us and the witnesses. We didn’t want to turn the wedding into a circus.’
‘But you did keep it a secret after that.’ His uncle persisted. ‘For two years. I wonder why that was.’
Beside him, he felt Dulcie stiffen minutely. It was a version of the question Dulcie had asked him in London when she came to his hotel room. His answer was simple. Stick to the truth. Don’t elaborate. Only then the mood had shifted. They had talked a little, and in talking, the tension between them had eased, and then…
