The next ten days passed with nothing more said about marriage or them living together. At first Orla had been glad of the reprieve but the longer time passed, the less she trusted it. Tonino was quite capable of bamboozling her with the subject when she least suspected it. She was supposed to be returning to Ireland tomorrow and was still no closer to making a decision.

      The problem was, she admitted to herself, she was torn between her head and her heart. Her heart wanted Finn to have all the advantages living in Sicily would give him. Her head, however, kept pointing out that Tonino only wanted her for Finn. The sex between them was just a bonus—a free leg-over, as her grandmother would have primly called it.

      But not for Orla. For Orla, the sex they shared… In the depths of her consciousness, she called it making love.

      To make things worse, she missed him when he wasn’t there.

      He’d been with her and Finn all the time during their first week in his home but then, during their second week, he’d had to work. Work for Tonino consisted of attending important meetings and travelling around Europe on business. At least, that was how it looked to Orla.

      There was something incredibly sexy about watching this hunk of a man dress for work, tucking a crisply ironed shirt into his tailored trousers, doing the buttons of the waistcoat, fixing his cufflinks into place, tying the laces of his handmade shoes… The urge to leap out from under the bedsheets and pounce on him would hit her so hard that she would clench her fists and force her mind to think of non-sexy things, like dirty laundry.

      How was it possible to ache for someone so badly? And how was it possible to miss someone so much that she kept her phone close at all times, hurrying to answer it whenever he called. Which was often.

      He was considerate too. The nights he arrived back so late that she’d already fallen asleep, he would slip into bed and do nothing more than wrap his arms around her. He didn’t wake her for sex. He let her sleep, saving their lovemaking for the morning.

      Then yesterday he’d arrived back at the chateau at lunchtime declaring his working week over, and she’d had to fight her legs again not to pounce on him with glee at having him back. Finn had been thrilled to see him too. He’d been so overjoyed to see his father that Orla’s happiness had dimmed and she’d found herself torn into pieces with contradictory emotions that shamed her.

      She was ashamed too that the moment he’d left for work on Monday, she’d got straight onto the phone and video-called Aislin for advice, shamed that she called herself an adult when she couldn’t make a decision and shamed to be disturbing her sister’s honeymoon.

      Aislin had listened carefully to Orla’s woe then her face had lit up. ‘I knew it! He’s nuts about you.’ She’d burst into peals of laughter. ‘If he still wants you after I made that threat to him, he’s nuts at the least.’

      ‘Are you drunk?’

      ‘On happiness!’

      ‘He isn’t nuts about me. He wants Finn. I’m just the mother of his son.’

      Aislin had rolled her eyes. ‘You really need to get out more if you believe that. Look, missus, don’t rush into any hasty decisions but, from my perspective, it would be grand if you moved to Sicily. I miss you and Finn.’

      ‘You’re having your own baby.’

      ‘And my baby will want his aunty and cousin close by. I’m not telling you to marry him or even live with him, but if you could bring yourself to live in Sicily then we’ll all be happy.’

      ‘Why does it have to be my life that’s uprooted?’

      ‘Because you don’t have a life.’

      That was a fact Orla could not argue with.

      She’d had a life once. A long time ago. When she’d first met Tonino she’d been excited to embrace the newest chapter of it by starting her dream job. The pregnancy had seen the future she’d worked so hard for slip through her fingers. The accident and its aftermath meant it was unlikely she would ever work again. Even if she could, she didn’t think she’d be able to leave Finn. And if she couldn’t contemplate leaving him for a few hours a day for a job, then how would she cope letting him visit his father for weeks at a time?

      Everything pointed to her agreeing to live with Tonino. Or she could do as Aislin suggested and just move to Sicily independently, but that would only cause additional issues.

      Marriage was out of the question. Marriage was a commitment that should only be entered between two people who meant their vows. Her mother had been shamed into marrying Aislin’s father because her grandmother couldn’t bear the shame of her daughter having a second illegitimate child by a second man. The marriage had been a disaster and ended after two years.

      Deep down was the painful peripheral wish that Tonino’s proposal meant more than a means to having their son living under his roof, but she would not let her mind go there.

      She could smack her head with frustration at the choice she had to make.

      Time was running out.

      Tonino was expecting an answer that evening, when they returned from his parents’ party.

      Keen to make a good first impression with his family for Finn’s sake, Orla left Finn with Tonino while she got ready. She went through her wardrobe half a dozen times before selecting a dark blue dress with chunky crystals running the length of its high neckline. It also had the requisite long sleeves and its mid-thigh-length skirt had a slight swing to it. All the sun she’d been living with these past few weeks had given her legs some colour, which was a nice bonus.

      Before dressing, she put on matching