Tempted by the Bridesmaid

by Annie O'Neil

  * * *

  “Did you notice this, Papa? The date carved into the beam?”

  Francesca watched as her father lifted his fingers and touched the date almost reverently.

  “It’s very beautiful, Francesca. How old did you say the village was?”

  “It’s medieval.”

  Francesca whirled around and all but collided with Luca. Her heart rate shot into hyperdrive and the power of speech simply left her. She’d been hoping Luca would stay holed up in the main clinic building, like he usually did, while she gave her father the grand tour. If her pitch was successful she could at least leave with a clean conscience, if not an unbroken heart.

  “Scusi?” Fran’s father turned, too. “You are?”

  “Papa,” Fran interjected, “this is Luca Montovano. Remember I told you about him? The clinic director. Luca, this is my father, Vincente Martinelli.”

  The men introduced themselves with a sharp handshake and the type of solid eye contact that seemed more gladiatorial than friendly.

  “It’s a delight to have you here, Mr. Martinelli,” Luca said solidly, his eyes not affording her even the most cursory of glances. “I suppose Francesca has told you what a mark she has made here?”

  Fran felt heat creep into her cheeks as the two most important men in her life turned toward her. She didn’t like being the center of attention at the best of times, and it was all she could do to keep her feet from whipping around and pulling her away toward the wildflower meadows she’d grown to love so much. Wildflowers she’d never see again if her father took the bait.

  “Of course.” Her father gave Luca a discerning look. “Francesca has spent most of my time here so far singing your praises.”

  “Papa!” Fran protested. Feebly.

  She knew as well as he did that she’d been completely transparent. Glowing like a love-struck teen despite every effort to present the clinic as an outstanding business opportunity.

  “I was simply...simply making the point that the entire vision here at Mont di Mare is Luca’s. From the cobblestones to the first-class clinic. None of this would exist without his insight. His...um...”

  Stop talking, Fran.

  No, don’t!

  This is your last chance.

  And so she plowed on. Detailing the clinic’s mission. The work they’d done so far. The work she would have loved to do if she could stay, but she knew with Luca’s talent he’d surely find more therapists. The best, of course. Only the best.

  Despite the charge of adrenaline coursing through her, Fran saw that Luca’s eyes softened as she spoke. The gentle light that warmed the espresso darkness of his irises got brighter and brighter as she carried on. Her eyes dipped to his mouth. Those beautiful lips she would never be able to kiss again.

  Forcing herself to meet Luca’s gaze, Fran charged ahead with her final appeal. If her father saw what she did in Luca he would do the right thing and accept her offer to leave today in exchange for starting a charitable foundation to support the clinic.

  “Like yours, Papa, Luca’s drive is pretty much unparalleled. In such a short time he has...he has... He’s...”

  Completely stolen my heart.

  Luca’s eyes widened slightly, his right eyebrow making that delightful little questioning arc she’d grown to enjoy watching out for whenever his curiosity was piqued.

  “I’ve never seen anyone render my daughter speechless, Dr. Montovano. You seem to have made quite an impact.”

  “She’s made a similar impression,” Luca replied, his eyes never leaving hers as he spoke.

  “Francesca is very loyal. Always has been,” her father replied with a decisive nod.

  * * *

  And then Luca saw it.

  The switch.

  One moment Francesca was looking into his eyes as if her life depended upon it, and the next...

  There wasn’t a soul in the world except for her father. The very light in Francesca’s eyes changed when her gaze shifted to her father. A steely determination replaced the gentle glow.

  Thank goodness he hadn’t dropped to his knees. Begged her to marry him as he wanted to.

  We could do it. Together we could do anything we put our hearts and minds to.

  This was his fault. He’d cut too deep to hold on to her affections. Been too harsh. She was a gentle soul who needed to be cared for as generously as she was generous in giving her heart to others. Again, he’d taken a bad situation and made it worse. So much worse.

  The clinic had been meant to redeem him, not ruin him.

  Luca’s lungs strained against the pain. As if his heart was being ripped from his chest.

  “Per favore,” he finally managed. “Do continue with your tour. I wouldn’t want you to miss anything before you both return to the States.”

  “Return?” Vincente turned to his daughter. “Haven’t you spoken with him?”

  * * *

  Fran opened her mouth to try to explain but, much to her horror, her father beat her to it.

  This wasn’t the way it was meant to happen. She was supposed to be on a plane, heading far, far away from the man who had stolen her heart, before he knew she’d made one last-ditch effort to help.

  “Si, Dottore,” her father began. “My daughter, as you have obviously come to discover, is fueled by grand thoughts and ideas. She called me with a simple proposal.”

  “Which is...?”

  Fran shivered to hear the chill in Luca’s voice. She hadn’t done it to hurt him. Far from it. She’d done it for love! Emotion choked the words in her throat and all she could do was watch, wide-eyed, as her father continued.

  “Francesca said your clinic could do with a large financial injection. A way to get more rooms prepared for patients and increase cash flow. One of the ideas she suggested was to run her own business from here.”

  “Is this true?”

  Luca turned to her, forcing her to meet his gaze.

  Fran nodded, wishing the mountain would swallow her up and leave her in darkness. She was no business mogul. It was just an idea.

  “It won’t work. A single investment,” her father continued, seemingly oblivious to the heartbreak happening right in front of him.

  “Papa—no!”

  “Hear me out, Frannie, I didn’t get where I am today by being sentimental.”

  Fran’s eyes darted toward Luca. He’d drawn himself to his full height, dark eyes flashing with emotion. He gave a curt nod. He’d hear her father out, but she knew any love he might have had for her was gone.

  “Martinelli Motors isn’t all about cars. Did you know this, Dr. Montovano?”

  “I’m afraid I didn’t. Fran hasn’t told me much about you at all.”

  A hint of coldness shivered down Fran’s spine. How could she? She barely knew her father.

  “How would you feel about Francesca managing a charitable trust on behalf of Martinelli Motors here at the clinic? As well as her assistance-dog business.”

  “Papa?” A flutter of hope lit up Francesca’s eyes while Luca remained stoically silent.

  “Fran’s been talking about starting a trust for ages, and I have to say I didn’t put much stock in it. But now that I’ve seen the clinic, the passion with which my daughter approaches the business—”

  “This is not her business,” Luca interrupted.

  “No, not now—but if I were to put money into it then she would, of course, become a partner.”

  “I think there’s been a misunderstanding,” Luca said, his eyes once again glued to Fran. “There is no part of this business that is for sale.”

  A pin might have dropped in a city two hundred miles away and Fran would have heard it in the silence that followed.

  “Are you crazy?” Fran finally regained
the power of speech, her eyes appealing to Luca to use common sense. She was the emotional one. Not him.

  His refusal to answer made her even angrier. Now he was just being plain old stubborn.

  “Papa. Don’t let him refuse your offer. The clinic needs the trust. I will do anything to make that happen.”

  Much to her astonishment, her father raised his hand in protest. “I think Luca knows his own mind well enough. I’m not going to force the money down the poor man’s throat.”

  Luca gave him a curt nod of thanks, then turned to walk away.

  “Luca, please—wait!”

  “I think I’ve heard enough.” He began to stride toward the far end of the village.

  “Luca, please,” Fran pleaded once they were out of earshot of her father. “None of that went the way it was meant to.”

  He turned on her, chest heaving with exertion. Fran pulled herself up short, teetering on her tiptoes, reaching out toward him to try to gain her balance.

  And that was when it dawned on him.

  A truth so vivid it near enough brought him to his knees. He’d been fighting the wrong battle. Fighting a truth that had raged like a tempest within him from the day he’d laid eyes on her.

  Love was about faith. Deep-seated belief. And trust.

  Fran would never ask her father—a man with whom she was only just beginning to have a proper relationship—to pour money into something, someone, she didn’t believe in. She saw something in him. Trusted him.

  And here she was, after all the horrible things he had said to her, reaching out with nothing but love in her eyes.

  He held out his hands to her and pulled her to him. With every fiber of his being he loved her.

  He cupped her face with his hands and tipped his forehead to hers. “Francesca, I’ve been a fool. You aren’t trying to take anything from me, are you?”

  “Of course not,” she whispered. “I love you.”

  “How?” His hands dropped to her shoulders and he held her out so she could take a good look at him. “How can you love me when I have been so horrible?”

  A gentle smile played upon her lips before she answered. “Everything you do is motivated by love.”

  “And how do you come to that conclusion, my little ray of sunshine?”

  “Because a lesser man would have given up long ago,” she said, giving a decisive nod. Her voice grew clearer, stronger, as she continued. “A lesser man would’ve stayed in Rome. Put his niece in a home. Hidden from everything he was ashamed of. Instead you confront the things you hate most about yourself on a daily basis.”

  “I owe it to Pia—”

  “You didn’t owe her an entire clinic!” Fran said, the light and humor he so loved finally returning to her eyes.

  “But her mother, her grandparents—it was my fault they were all in that car.”

  “It wasn’t your fault the truck lost control. You didn’t make it cross the median strip. You didn’t ask it to crash into you! I know it was awful, but it was not your fault.”

  Luca pulled her close to him, feeling her heart thud against his chest. He drew his fingers through her hair and asked aloud the question he’d wondered again and again.

  “How can I deserve you?”

  Fran pulled back, eyelids dropped to half-mast, and quirked an eyebrow. “You don’t—yet.”

  “I beg to differ, amore, but you are standing in my arms.”

  “That doesn’t mean we’ve made any decisions yet, does it?”

  “About what?”

  “About my business. Canny Canines. If you think I’m going to give it up just because you’ve won my heart you’ve got another think coming.”

  “Does this mean I’m going to have to go groveling to your father?”

  Fran crinkled her nose. “I thought you didn’t want his money?”

  “I don’t,” Luca admitted. “But I do want something far more precious to him than any amount of money he has.”

  A twinkle lit up Francesca’s eye. “Oh, yes? And what could that possibly be?”

  “I think you know exactly what I’m talking about, Francesca Martinelli.” He pulled back from her, folding her small hands between his as he knelt on the ground in front of her. “I would very much like it if you would consider becoming Francesca Montovano.”

  Fran’s eyes filled with tears as she nodded. “Yes. Yes, please. I’d love to.”

  Luca rose to his feet, picked Francesca up and twirled her around, whooping to the heavens all the while.

  When he put her down he tipped his head toward her and murmured, “As you’re going to be staying awhile, I suppose it would be a good idea for you to agree with your father about the whole Martinelli Trust thing.”

  Fran’s tooth captured her lower lip and he felt her fingers pressing into his hands.

  “Do you mean it?”

  “I can hardly refuse the opportunity to help needy children, can I?”

  “Luca Montovano...” Fran sighed as she rose on tiptoe to give him the softest kiss he’d ever known, “I’m going to love you until the end of time.”

  He cinched his arms around her waist, pulling her in for a kiss so rich with meaning there was no mistaking how long he would love her in return.

  “Forever and ever, amore. Until the end of time.”

  Two years later

  “Dante!” Fran clicked her fingers, a proud smile lighting up her face as the dog padded off to the opposite side of the patio and returned with her padded shoulder bag.

  “Is he getting so heavy that you can’t get out of your chair?” Luca laughed, taking the diaper bag from their latest canine family member and handing it to his wife with a tender smile.

  Fran gazed down into the eyes of her son—a teeny-tiny replica of his father.

  “Pia’s been bringing him to the gym. Getting the other patients to use him as a weight!”

  She laughed at the memory of one of the poor girls straining to lift him to shoulder height, Pia leaning forward, her hands ready if he dropped more than a millimeter.

  “I think he gains a kilo every other day!” She tickled the tiny tip of his nose. “Besides, why would I want to move when I have everything I need right here?”

  “And what’s that?” Luca asked, settling into the patio chair alongside Francesca.

  “You know exactly what I mean, but as you’ve asked, I will tell you.” Fran held up a hand and ticked off her list on her fingers. “A gorgeous man, a big furry dog, the most handsome son a woman could ask for and, of course, the view.”

  She reached out her hand, closing her eyes tight as the tickle of sparks that still tingled and delighted her each and every time she and Luca touched took effect.

  “The view is rather spectacular,” Luca said.

  When she opened her eyes she saw he wasn’t facing the mountains, nor the broad, lush valleys below them, not even the sea sparkling in the early morning sun. Luca—her husband, her love—was looking directly into her eyes.

  * * * * *

  If you enjoyed this story, check out these other great reads from Annie O’Neil

  HEALING THE SHEIKH’S HEART

  HER HOT HIGHLAND DOC

  SANTIAGO’S CONVENIENT FIANCÉE

  THE NIGHTSHIFT BEFORE CHRISTMAS

  All available now!

  Keep reading for an excerpt from CLAIMING HIS PREGNANT PRINCESS by Annie O’Neil.

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  Claiming His Pregnant Princess

  by Annie O’Neil

  CHAPTER ONE

  “DR. JESOLO! THERE’S a full waiting room!”

  “Si, pronto, Teo!” Bea poked her head out of the curtained exam space and then repeated herself in English, just in case her Australian coworker hadn’t understood. “On my way.”

  He nodded, screwed his nose up for a minute and gave her a funny look.

  She hoped her pasted-on happy face simply looked like a case of first-day jitters.

  Her new colleague didn’t need to know she was fighting another wave of impossible-to-quench tears.

  She swiped at her eyes again and forced herself to tune in to the various conversations happening in the exam areas surrounding hers.

  English, Italian, French and German. Broken arms. Asthma attacks. Altitude sickness. They were all mingled together up here in Torpisi, and she was loving every moment of it. Or would be if she could get her eyes to dry and see another patient.

  That was why this multilingual, brain-stretching trauma center suited her needs to a tee.