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I didn’t know what it was about the picture that drew me in, but something called to me. Something familiar. Not that I’d ever heard of the artist before, but I didn’t think it was the person who painted it that caught my attention.

It was the woman. She reminded me of…

Me.

“You like this painting, angel?” Jacob said, startling me from my daze.

Truthfully, I’d forgotten he was here; I’d been so lost in her. “She’s beautiful.”

“She is,” he replied. “Where do you think you will hang it when we get home?”

My head whipped to him. “What?”

Jacob took my hand in his, his thumb rubbing over the back of my knuckles as he grinned broadly. “The painting, angel. Where in the house would you like to hang it?”

My eyes darted between his, my brain struggling to keep up. “You…want to buy it?”

He dropped my hand to pull me into his embrace. “I already have.”

My brows shot sky high. “But, Jacob, it’s nearly five hundred thousand dollars!” I whisper-shrieked as I peeked at the price tag in the corner of the painting.

He chuckled. “Euros, angel. The currency used in Italy is the euro. And you need to learn that there is no amount of money I wouldn’t spend on you if it means I get to see you smile the way you have been at that painting.”

My heart constricted in my chest, a tsunami of emotions suddenly overwhelming me. Tears pooled in my eyes, and words tumbled from my mouth before I could stop them. “I love you.”

Jacob inhaled a sharp breath, his feet shifting forward to close the minuscule gap between us. His mouth crashed against mine, his tongue forcing its way into my mouth to gently twirl with mine. My fingers gripped his shirt, my core pulsing to life as he devoured my mouth in the middle of the gallery.

When he pulled away, his heavy pants washed over my face as he once again rested his forehead against mine. “Fuck, angel. You have no idea how long I’ve waited to hear you say that. I love you too.”

An enormous grin covered my face, a warmth that I’d never felt before working its way through my body. For several moments, we could only stare at each other, lost in the other’s gaze, and for the first time in my life, everything seemed right in my world.

I had a husband who loved me, and one who wanted to listen, learn, and compromise. The hope for a happy future that had been slowly building over the last few days blew up like a balloon inside me, and my mind raced ahead, imagining what the future would be.

Maybe Jacob would agree to move to the mainland. Maybe having a child with him wouldn’t be so scary in a few years. Maybe him claiming me in the middle of the night in repayment for my parents’ debt would turn out to be the best thing that had ever happened to me.

Releasing me from his grasp, Jacob took a step back. “Let me go and finish the paperwork, angel. While I do that, why don’t you give it some thought as to where we’ll hang the painting when we get home?”

My gaze tracked him as he crossed to the desk Fazio was working at, and when they started conversing in hushed voices, I turned back to the painting. She was still just as beautiful, but perhaps she wasn’t like me after all.

Chapter 26

Once Jacob had arranged for the painting to be shipped to our home—paying extra to make sure it was delivered before we returned from our honeymoon—he held my hand as he guided me through the streets to a quaint restaurant.

We were seated at a table on a private balcony overlooking the sea, and the warm sun beat down on my tanned skin. I inhaled a deep, contented breath, smiling at nothing but the happiness I held in my heart.

“Good afternoon, signor, signora.” From nowhere, a waiter appeared, smiling politely as he handed a menu to us both. He reeled off a list of items on the specials menu before telling us he would be back in a moment to take our drink order.

“This menu is in Italian; I don’t understand what half of these are,” I complained as my gaze traveled over words I didn’t know.

Jacob reached across and plucked the menu from my hands. “It’s okay, angel. I’ll order for you.”

The streak of anger that always appeared as Jacob’s bossy side reared its head slithered through my veins like lava. But reminding myself that he’d just paid an extreme amount of money on something for me, the least I could do was allow him to choose my lunch.

Besides, while I had no idea why he liked doing things such as choosing my outfits or deciding what I ate, it made him happy, and that was reason enough.

I let a small, appreciative smile curl my lips. “Can you read the menu?”

“Yes. I speak fluent Italian.”