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My eyes widened. “You do?” His reply was a smug smirk. “Why haven’t you told me that before?”

Jacob shrugged, closing the menu. “I told you in the car on the night I collected you from your old home that I speak several languages. You never asked which ones.” Embarrassed, I lowered my gaze. He was right; he had told me that, and I’d been too wrapped up in myself to probe. Jacob reached across and took my hand. “It doesn’t matter. I’d always rather talk about you, my love.”

Not meaning to, I scoffed, and I could have sworn I saw a look of disapproval flash through Jacob’s eyes. “I know you do, but we always talk about me. You never talk about yourself; come to think about it, I don’t really know anything about you other than what you do for work.”

He opened his mouth to reply, but any response was cut off when the waiter appeared again. I could only watch in awe as Jacob placed our order, speaking in perfect Italian. Even the waiter seemed impressed.

Once he’d jotted down our order, the waiter collected our menus as another waiter brought over a bottle of champagne in an ice bucket, along with two flutes. He poured a glass for Jacob to try, and nodding his head, the waiter filled both our glasses.

“To us and an amazing honeymoon,” Jacob said, raising his glass. I clinked mine against his, trying not to wallow in the disappointment seeping into my bones. Now that I’d mentioned it, I desperately wanted to learn more about Jacob. Noticing my frown, Jacob lowered his glass and took my hand. “Angel, you can ask me anything, you know. If there is something you want to know about me, just ask. I have nothing to hide from you.”

My mood piqued again, and after taking a sip of the delicious champagne, I tried to settle on one of the many questions that were running through my brain. “Would you ever consider moving from Du Pont Island?”

I didn’t know why that was the first question to come out of my mouth, and as soon as it was out, I wanted to take it back. Jacob released my hand and leaned back in his seat, his lips pursing. “No.”

“Why not?” I asked as softly as I could, not wanting to rile him up more than my question seemed to have.

“Because I like peace and quiet. I like my own company, and I don’t like being around people.”

“You seem to like being around me,” I replied, giving him a shy smile.

His frown faded. “I do, angel. You’re the only person in this world I love being around. Most people irritate me after a few minutes.”

I chewed my lip in thought before responding. “You haven’t seemed to mind being around people today.”

If anything, it appeared as if he’d loved being around people throughout our time in the village. He’d spoken in English to a bunch of people in the market earlier, and as we strolled through the streets, he often bobbed his head while greeting passersby.

He leaned forward again, a boyish grin lifting his lips. “I enjoyed watching you experience things for the first time, angel. I wanted you to see a little bit of Italy, and this was the perfect place for you to get a taste of the Italian culture without being surrounded by too many people.”

“Why don’t you like being around people?”

Jacob took a sip of his drink. “I’ve always preferred my own company. Even as a child, I liked to spend time on my own instead of with my family.”

“Do you have any siblings?”

“Yes.” A sneer contorted on his face. “I have a brother, but I don’t like to talk about him. We don’t get along.”

Curiosity brewed inside me, but I refrained from asking what had happened between him and his brother. I didn’t want to push too hard; even without Jacob saying he didn’t want to talk about his brother, his tone would have given it away.

“What about your parents?” I asked instead.

He stroked a thumb along his bottom lip. “I maintain a relationship with them because I have to for the sake of the business, but I do everything I can to avoid them.” I didn’t reply, mainly because I didn’t trust myself not to ask him why, but the question must have been etched on my face. He took my hand again. “My childhood was a lot like yours, angel. My parents are both very controlling; their social standing is more important to them than their children, and they aren’t happy unless my brother and I portray the perfect vision they want us to be.”

Stunned into silence, I could only stare at him as understanding collided into me like a wrecking ball. His controlling tendencies, his need to make me be the perfect woman. He acted like that because it was learned behavior.

Hell, there were things I did that had been drummed into me since I was a child because my mother had insisted I would be the perfect daughter. Granted, they were things like never putting my elbows on the table at mealtimes and making sure my legs and bikini line were always free of hair, rather than trying to control what someone wore.

But still.

Regret flowed through me like a steady stream for all the curses and bad thoughts I’d had about Jacob anytime he’d done something to control me. It wasn’t his fault he was the way he was; it was how he’d been raised.

A lump lodged in my throat as flashes of my childhood passed through my mind. The times when my parents had stopped me from making friends with certain children, them dictating what hobbies I could and couldn’t have, and even telling me whom I was to marry.

Jacob had experienced the same, and still was. Only a week ago, when he visited his parents, they’d told him it was time he settled down and raised a family. Everything clicked into place: the reason he wanted to get married so soon, and why it never bothered him about me getting pregnant.

He was under pressure from his parents to be their perfect child.

Overwhelmed with my new understanding, I launched myself into Jacob’s lap, burrowing my face into the crook of his shoulder as a sob escaped.