Italian Deception: The Salvatore Marriage / A Sicilian Seduction / The Passion Bargain. Michelle Reid

one spoke—no one. There wasn’t a single good luck, God damn you or even a dismissive go to hell, you pair of fools. It was a suffocating, suffocating blanket of perfect silence until—

      ‘Well, bravo,’ a smooth male voice commended, and Father Michael detached himself from the small group.

      He began walking towards them, a tall, slender man with silver hair and a look of a Salvatore etched in his lean face. He paused to touch slender white sympathetic fingers to Mrs Salvatore’s shocked cheek, then continued on until he came to a stop in front of them.

      ‘I now understand your desire to arrange this hasty wedding service, Luca.’ He smiled as he reached out to shake his hand. ‘This should have happened two years ago, of course, but next week is good. I for one am very happy for you both.’

      There were so many hidden messages in what he’d said that it caused a wave of discomfort to shift through their audience. Shannon couldn’t cope. She had taken enough. Fresh tears were throbbing in her throat and she knew she was in danger of falling apart again.

      She certainly didn’t need the priest to swing the attention to her. But that was exactly what he did. ‘Welcome to the Salvatore family, Shannon,’ he sanctioned, bringing his hands to rest on her shoulders. ‘Having come to know your sister well over the years, I know how hard she prayed for this to happen.’ He bent to place kisses on both of her cheeks. ‘She can be at peace now, cara,’ he murmured for her ears only. ‘For her sake try to be at peace with it yourself.’

      It was then that she knew that Father Michael knew everything. Keira must have confessed all to the priest. Her shoulders shook as the tears threatened to burst forth again and she broke free of Luca’s arms to sink into one of the winged chairs with different hurts, different emotions, all clamouring to take a bite out of her.

      Father Michael moved back across the room, gathering Luca’s mother beneath his arm as he went and herding the rest of his subdued flock before him through the door. ‘Take the poor child home, Luca. I will stay and deal with the other business you have pending here,’ were the final complacent words spoken in the Salvatore library for long seconds after the door closed.

      ‘I can’t believe you did that.’ Shannon broke into the silence.

      ‘I am having great difficulty believing that you backed me up,’ was Luca’s drawling reply. ‘Here …’ The glass of brandy was retrieved from the reading table and slotted between her fingers. ‘Drink,’ he commanded.