The Secret One (Corisi Billionaires) by Ruth Cardello

Author:Ruth Cardello [Cardello, Ruth]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Montlake
Published: 2020-10-12T18:30:00+00:00

CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

MCKENNA

Montalcino was just as Christof had described it. Although we’d arrived by private plane just outside the town, we were driven up winding roads by one of Christof’s cousins, Luigi. I’d never been afraid of speed or fast corners, but I’d admit I closed my eyes and gripped the door handle a few times. How Luigi hadn’t yet killed anyone or smashed the little tin can of a car we were in was beyond me.

I was seated in the front seat, which thankfully had a seat belt. Untethered, Christof chatted from the back. The warm bond between the two was fun to watch. Luigi’s accent was thick, but I could understand him easily. He and Christof spoke in English, for my benefit, but occasionally, when the conversation sped up, it flipped to Italian before Christof would pull it back to English and tell me what they’d said. None of it was anything I couldn’t have guessed. They had differing opinions on who would win the World Cup as well as whose pinci pasta I couldn’t leave without sampling.

It was my first trip to Europe, so I didn’t know what to expect, but our arrival was greeted as if Christof were the prodigal son. Luigi honked and slowed as he went down some of the narrow streets. Windows flew open, and people called out welcomes to Christof.

“Are you related to everyone in town?” I joked.

Leaning forward so his head was between his cousin and me, Christof said, “Enough that dating from this pool has always been too risky. Not that that has stopped Luigi.”

Luigi said something in Italian. Christof laughed. A moment later Luigi did as well.

“McKenna,” Luigi said, “I need a rich American wife. Do you have a friend for me?”

Christof answered before I could. “Stick with dating your third and fourth cousins. American women can’t cook.”

My head snapped around, and I shot Christof a warning look. “First, no blanket statements about Americans, please. It’s so wrong to clump us together and stamp a stereotype on us.”

“So you do cook?” Luigi asked.

A grin spread across Christof’s face. I folded my arms over my chest and sat back with a huff. “That’s irrelevant.”

“Don’t worry, beautiful McKenna, Christof is the daughter his mother always wanted. He’ll cook for you.”

The punch Christof delivered to Luigi’s arm caused the car to swerve and almost take out a couple who looked like tourists. I gripped the door handle again. What Christof said to Luigi also didn’t require translation to be understood, but Luigi laughed it off.

“How far to Nona’s?” I asked. Some of the ride was enjoyable. The teasing between Christof and his cousin was comical. Their banter reminded me of how Ty and I often spoke.

“We have arrived,” Luigi announced as he pulled off the road and between two stone walls with skill any race driver would admire.

Christof was out and opening my car door before I had a chance to catch my breath. I took the hand he offered me and breathed in the charm of his family’s villa.

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