“I see a brave woman with a caring heart. I see someone who has been through a lot and hasn’t let the hardship destroy her. I see someone who doesn’t know her own beauty because she thinks trappings like clothing, money, and color from a bottle is what makes a woman beautiful. I don’t see any of that. I like my women in their natural state.”

Colette almost choked on her food. His women? Was he implying that he wanted her to be his woman?

Don’t get ahead of yourself. He’s just telling you what he likes.

Luca leaned in and, in a low voice, said, “Did you know that you blush a lot?”

“Only around you, it seems.”

“Why is that?”

Colette’s eyes tried to stay on his but the gaze he returned was just too intense for her. She shrugged. “I don’t know.”

“I think you do,” Luca replied. “I think you know a lot more than you pretend. You aren’t like your friends.”

“What does that mean?” she asked defensively. She hadn’t known Kim and Annie long, but in the short time that they’d been here she’d come to care a lot about them. Each was unique and wonderful in her own way.

“I mean that your friends are who they are because of what they know and see. They aren’t their true selves,” he replied.

“How can you know that?”

“I’ve learned to pay attention to people,” Luca answered with a smile. “Plus, I have five sisters.”

“Five?” Colette repeated as her eyes grew large. How had he survived? She’d barely got through with one sister, far less five. She didn’t want to imagine what bathroom visits were like in his house when he was growing up. All that estrogen, too.

“Yes. I was the only boy and firstborn child. I had a great deal of responsibility on my shoulders.”

“How did you manage?”

“Very carefully,” he chuckled. “I helped my father with his import business and my mother with my sisters until I graduated. Then I went on to get my business degree and follow in my father’s footsteps.”

“Do you enjoy it? Business, I mean.”

“Business is good. We do well with it.”

“But you don’t love it, do you?” Colette realized. She could hear it in his words. “What do you love to do? What is your passion, Luca?”

He smiled again as he took a forkful of food and raised it to her lips. “This,” he said, and Colette opened her mouth to taste it. She hummed her approval. “You like it?”

“I love it,” she replied between chews, covering her mouth with her hands. “Mama Elene is such a great cook.”

“My aunt didn’t make this for you,” he replied simply. “I did.”

“What?” Colette raised an eyebrow. There was no hiding her surprise this time. “You made this? But I thought...”