Best Man for the Bridesmaid. Jennifer FayeЧитать онлайн книгу.
magazines with dog-eared pages and sticky notes. She had everything necessary to plan the perfect wedding—except for one very important but necessary ingredient: caffeine. But no worries—Lizzie had been raving about the delicious coffee Rome had to offer.
Considering no details about the wedding had been tacked down, there would be long conversations over this now-infamous coffee. First, they had to nail down a wedding date. Jules was thinking a spring wedding next year. It’d be perfect as Lizzie had mentioned something about an Italian vineyard as the backdrop. Talk about some amazing photos.
This wedding-planning stuff shouldn’t be too hard. After all, Jules had most of it memorized by this point. Now she’d be able to put all of that knowledge to good use.
Boisterous voices filled the terminal as friends greeted each other. An American family called frantically for their son, who stood ten steps away checking out the cell phones that a beautiful woman with long dark hair and a brilliant smile was eager to show the teenager. Jules took it all in as she strode through the congested concourse, following the signs to the baggage claim.
She couldn’t wait to see Lizzie. It felt like an eternity since they’d seen each other. And she was looking forward to meeting her future brother-in-law, Dante. Lizzie swore the photos she’d emailed didn’t do him justice. That was hard to believe since Jules had found him quite handsome.
She walked over to the luggage carousel, hoping her suitcase had made the journey and hadn’t been lost along the way. All the while, she kept glancing around for Lizzie. Where could she be? It wasn’t like her to be late.
Jules’s gaze strayed across to a tall dark-haired man at the other end of the luggage return area. He spoke to a pretty young woman, who shook her head and turned away. And then he moved on to the next young woman. What was that all about?
Jules shrugged and turned away. She pulled the phone from her pocket, hoping a message from Lizzie would pop up, but instead a dead battery symbol flashed on the screen and then everything went black. Jules sighed. This couldn’t be happening to her while she was all alone in a foreign country. She’d charged it before she left New York, hadn’t she?
“Scusi. Are you Ms. Lane?” A deep male voice immediately drew her attention.
She turned to find the same dark-haired man speaking to a woman a couple of people down from her. Was he looking for her? How did he know her name?
When the blonde woman wearing a pastel flowered dress shook her head, he moved on. He skipped over an older woman, not even bothering to ask her. And then his gaze skimmed over Jules’s pigtails, long-sleeved black top, purple-and-black plaid miniskirt and knee-high platform black boots. His facial expression remained neutral, but he didn’t say a word to her as he moved on down the line.
Seriously? He was that put off by her appearance that he wasn’t even going to speak to her? She turned her back to him. Then she realized he might have a message from Lizzie. Jules turned back around.
He stopped at the next young woman. “Scusi, are you Julianne—”
“Hey, mister.” When he turned to her with a raised brow, she had to fight back a laugh. “I’m Julianne Lane.”
He apologized to the young lady before backtracking and stopping directly in front of Jules. His forehead was creased. “Signorina, you are Lizzie’s sister?”
She nodded. Her pigtails bobbed. He wasn’t the first person to be surprised by her unconventional appearance. She’d given up a long time ago trying to live up to everyone’s expectations. And she’d been dressing this way so long now that it came naturally.
The same couldn’t be said about him. He looked as if he’d just walked off the cover of a men’s fashion magazine. His navy blue suit was perfectly tailored to show off his broad shoulders, and the gray dress shirt was unbuttoned just enough to show off a hint of his muscular chest.
Jules swallowed hard. Wow! No wonder Lizzie lost her heart here. They sure made them hot and sexy in Italy.
With effort, she forced her gaze upward to meet his serious stare. “Is there a problem?”
“Umm...no.” The lines on his forehead smoothed. “Lizzie is your sister, isn’t she?”
Jules’s chest tightened. “Yes. Is she all right?”
His dark brows rose as his warm brown eyes seemed to hold her captive. “Yes, she is.”
Jules breathed out a pent-up breath. “Don’t do that.”
“Do what?”
“Scare me. I thought something had happened to my sister.”
“I assure you that she’s perfectly fine. But something came up and she asked me to pick you up.”
“You should have said that part first.” She glanced over at the luggage carousel, which had started to move. Before she could ask him anymore questions, the luggage appeared on the conveyor belt. “I’ll be right with you. I just need to grab my bag.”
She could feel the man’s curious gaze boring into her back. She wondered what he was thinking, but something told her she was better off not knowing.
And then her black suitcase with the large white circle pattern dropped onto the conveyer belt. She shifted her carry-on so that it was resting against her back and out of her way to grab the large piece of luggage.
As she reached for it, the man stepped between her and the belt. “Let me grab that for you. Which is it?”
“Don’t bother. I’ve got it.” She didn’t need him going out of his way for her. She wasn’t some spoiled rich girl. Not by anyone’s imagination. She’d been taking care of herself for a long time. Maybe that’s what always scared men off. She didn’t need them.
The man’s eyes widened as he backed away. “Ms. Lane, I only meant to help.”
She grabbed the suitcase and swung it around to place it on the floor beside her. “I appreciate your offer, but I’m used to taking care of myself. And, by the way, I prefer to go by Jules. Who would you be?”
“I’m Stefano DeFiore. Dante’s older brother.”
Lizzie had mentioned in passing that Dante had a brother, but she’d never mentioned how good-looking he was or that he would be meeting her at the airport. “Nice to meet you.”
She smiled and stuck out her hand. He hesitated for a moment before glancing quickly to the left and then to the right before his hand encased hers. Was he looking around to see if anyone noticed that he hadn’t gotten her luggage for her? Really? He was that worried about what everyone thought?
And then the smile slipped from her face. Her stomach plummeted. She realized the real reason for his awkwardness. He was embarrassed to be seen with her.
What kind of family was Lizzie marrying into?
* * *
Stefano DeFiore found himself utterly mesmerized—and that was something that he never let happen.
He struggled to keep his gaze anywhere but on the delicate tiny blue—or was it purple?—butterfly body art flirting with the beginning of the swell of her breasts...just above the diving neckline of her black top. He found it and her absolutely fascinating. And that was not good.
He swallowed hard and drew his focus back up to her face. His brother and his soon-to-be sister-in-law should have picked up Jules—not him. But family takes care of family.
Jules was undeniably intriguing but not in the usual manner. Her goth style was unique, to say the least. And then there was the purplish lipstick, heavy black eyeliner and the stuff on her eyelashes that set off her look. He was anxious to see the woman beneath it all.
He certainly didn’t know what to make of Julianne—erm—Jules. Lizzie hadn’t given any hints that her sister was so different from her in every way. Lizzie was