privy to hung in Julia’s belly. This was touchy. Trying to talk with someone she didn’t know and who didn’t want to hear, about an awkward subject, with a language barrier thrown in to boot?
Her conscience poked its head in the ring. What if Adrianna lost a breast or died because she was too chicken to speak out? Potentially saving a life would be worth the discomfort in her toe when she kicked herself later. Besides, she reminded herself again, she was never going to see these people again anyway.
And Giada’s eyes, wide with fear and hope, would haunt her forever if she said no.
“I suppose I could try to talk to her,” she offered. “But we’ll have to be sneaky.” An idea started to take shape in her mind. “We’ll go back to the house, and you’ll casually bring up my hike again like you just did, and I’ll mention my cancer, and we’ll let it go from there.”
“That is perfect.” Giada nodded. “Thank you.”
They followed the path back the direction they’d come. Sounds of laughter and spirited conversation drew them around to the side of the house where they found the rest of the women enjoying the shade from a pergola that overlooked the bocce ball court, while the children chased each other around the yard.
On the court, it was Vitale’s turn, and the tension cording the muscles in his arms and back implied the world championship was at stake. Her imagination ran amok, and for a split second, she was running her tongue along those deep grooves.
Her breath stopped as he stepped softly, with the fluid grace of an Olympian, and tossed the ball, which landed with a thud and then proceeded to roll right into the space that separated two others.
A cacophony of joyful and mournful howls split the air, leaving no doubt as to who were the victors and who the vanquished.
Amid the pats on the back, Vitale threw a glance toward the house. When his gaze found Julia’s and locked on to her appreciative stare, he kissed two fingers and turned them her way.
She returned the motion, and his eyebrows shot up in surprise.
Ack! Had she just propositioned him here in front of God and his family?
A mischievous grin spread from ear to ear, and he sprinted to her side.
“How is the toe, Julietta? Do we need to leave?”
The thoughtful question was innocent enough, but the idea of being alone with him coupled with the thoughts that had been racing through her mind were anything but innocent. And Giada cast her a pleading glance.
“My toe’s fine. I’m in no hurry to leave. Go. Play.” She motioned him away and out of her space so she could breathe again.
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