From Florence With Love: Valtieri's Bride / Lorenzo's Reward / The Secret That Changed Everything. CATHERINE GEORGE

wasn’t so easily put off. She let the subject drop for a moment, but only long enough to lift the now-crying baby from the pram and cradle him in her arms as she fed him.

      Spellbound, Lydia watched the baby’s tiny rosebud mouth fasten on his mother’s nipple, saw the look of utter contentment on Isabelle’s face, and felt a well of longing fill her chest.

      ‘He’s a good man, you know. A really decent guy. He’d be worth the emotional investment, but only if you’re serious. I’d hate to see him hurt.’

      ‘He won’t get hurt. We’re not getting involved,’ she said firmly. ‘Yes, there’s something there, but neither of us want it.’

      Isabelle’s eyes were searching, and Lydia felt as if she could see straight through her lies.

      Lies? Were they?

      Oh, yes. Because she did want it, even though it was crazy, even though she’d get horribly badly hurt. And she’d thought Russell had hurt her? He didn’t even come close to what Massimo could do if she let him into her heart.

      ‘He’s not interested in an emotional investment,’ she said, just in case there was any misunderstanding, but Isabelle just raised a brow slightly and smiled.

      ‘No. He doesn’t think he is, but actually he’s ready to love again. He just hasn’t realised it.’

      ‘No, he isn’t. We’ve talked about it—’

      ‘Men don’t talk. Not really. It’s like pulling teeth. He’s telling you what he thinks he ought to feel, not what he feels.’

      She glanced up, at the same time as Lydia heard crunching on the gravel.

      ‘Talk of the devil, here they are,’ Isabelle said, smiling at her husband and his brother, and not wanting to get involved any deeper in this conversation, Lydia excused herself and went back to the kitchen.

      Seconds later Massimo was in there behind her. ‘I’ve come to tell you we’ve almost finished. The last of the vines are being stripped now and everyone’s having the afternoon off.’

      ‘So no lunch?’

      He raised an eyebrow. ‘I don’t think you’ll get away with that, but no evening meal, certainly. Not today. And tomorrow we’re moving on to the chestnut woods. So tonight I’m taking you out for dinner, to thank you.’