The Stranger I Married

The villa was tucked into a quiet corner just above the town. It wasn’t massive, not in the way Nicholas’s properties back home could be. But it had the kind of elegance that whispered instead of shouted: ivory stone walls, green wooden shutters, terracotta tiles baking in the sun. A climbing vine spilled over the arch of the front door, trailing delicate pink flowers like something out of a dream.

The housekeeper greeted them with a gentle smile and a melodic "Benvenuti," then disappeared just as quickly, leaving the two of them standing in the cool tiled foyer.

Ella looked around slowly, like turning her head too fast might wake her up.

Nicholas dropped their bags by the stairs and reached for her hand. "Come see."

He led her through wide arched doorways and sunlit halls, past an airy kitchen that smelled faintly of rosemary, and out onto the terrace.

That’s where her breath caught.

The view stretched endlessly—rooftops falling away in mosaic patterns, cliffs spilling down to the sea, and water sparkling all the way to the edge of forever. A pair of lounge chairs faced the horizon, shaded by a pale canopy. There were lemons in a bowl on the table. And beyond that, just the quiet hush of summer.

Nicholas looked at her sideways. "So... worth the early wake-up?"

Ella was still staring at the view, lips parted slightly. "This doesn’t feel real."

He stepped behind her, arms circling her waist as he pressed his chest to her back. "It’s real. And it’s all ours for the week."

She leaned into him, her fingers resting lightly over his. "Let’s never leave."