Chapter Twenty-One
Carly’s heart raced as she followed Michelangelo up the stairs. This was no longer an ‘experiment.’ Her heart was on the line. Playing duets with him, meeting his mother, and seeing his ailing vineyard had driven her to a place she’d never been before, a crossroads where life took over if she let it. This time she played for keeps.
Michelangelo led her down the corridor past his mother’s room. He opened a thick oak door to a smaller, cozier room with embroidered rugs thrown over a stone floor. An ashy fireplace framed with a thick, carved mantel stood across from a four-poster canopy bed draped with sheer fabric. A window looked out to the eastern patch of vines, where the hill slanted into the valley.
Carly felt as though he’d taken her back in time. No cell phones, no televisions or honking cars. Just the two of them and their thoughts in the silence. It was undeniably the most romantic place she’d ever been.
Michelangelo crouched by the fireplace and coaxed a flame from the wood. ‘It gets chilly here in the evening toward the end of the summer.’
What chill? Her whole body throbbed with heat. If her neck and cheeks blushed any more, they’d start to steam. But when an Italian hottie invited you into his room and started a fire, you didn’t say no.
She walked over to the bed, smoothing the crimson velvet comforter with her fingertips. ‘This is your room?’
The fire caught, lighting the room in a golden ambiance. Michelangelo stood, brushing his hands together. ‘It is now. As a boy, I used to live downstairs near the kitchen.’
She ran her fingers along the bedpost, carved to resemble roses and vines. A nick in the wood here and there told the tale of ageless years of use. ‘So this place has been in your family for generations?’
Michelangelo nodded. ‘Since my great, great grandfather.’
The ache she’d felt before returned. How could they tear down such a gorgeous place with so much history? ‘I’ll do everything I can to keep it in your family, to keep the memories alive.’
‘Shhh.’ He walked toward her and placed a calloused finger on her lips. ‘That’s for tomorrow. Right now, we have tonight to ourselves, and I mean to enjoy it.’
A rush of fire trailed up Carly’s legs. Electricity buzzed in the air between herself and Michelangelo. He looked dark, brooding and sexy in the mix of shadows and firelight. He leaned down and kissed the top of her head, then moved to her forehead, her cheek, and her lower neck. Each kiss burned her skin and desire stirred within her.
She ran her hands up the lean muscles in his back to his neck, pulling him closer. His lips met hers. She opened her mouth, allowing his tongue to slide across her teeth. Jolts of electricity ran along her nerves. She sighed deeply as he moved her toward the bed. They fell onto the velvet cover, and Carly forgot about her gigs for the first time in her life.
*****
Morning light pierced through Carly’s blissful sleep. She turned, burying her head in Michelangelo’s bare chest. He smelled like a mix between clean linen and salty man. Just two more minutes…
Bangs and thumps, followed by men shouting outside interrupted her peace. What were they doing out there? Then she remembered the e-mail Isabella had sent to the crew to set up for the concert. Carly bolted upright. If tonight didn’t go as planned, there’d be no more Italian nights on the vineyard with Michelangelo.
‘The concert!’
Michelangelo blinked and rubbed his eyes. ‘They’re out there already?’
‘Yes, and we have to help them.’
He checked his watch. ‘Wow, it’s nine o’clock already! I never sleep in this late.’
He looked too scrumptious to abandon just yet. She collapsed on top of him and kissed his chest. ‘Maybe we tired ourselves out.’
He rolled his eyes as embarrassment softened his gorgeous face. ‘I don’t want my crew thinking I’m a playboy, bringing home pretty women, or, even worse—a slapper.’
Carly nuzzled against his nose. ‘Knowing you and all you’ve done for this place, I doubt they’d think either.’
She moved away, but Michelangelo pulled her back. ‘Wait.’
The gravity of his tone made her heart skip. ‘What?’
Intensity flared in his eyes. ‘When this is all over, if I still have this winery, I’d like it if you could stay a while—you know, give ‘us’ a chance.’
There’s an ‘us?’ Carly stopped breathing. This was it—the invitation she’d been waiting for and dreading at the same time. Staying meant leaving her career in Boston behind, but it also meant following her heart. All that waited for her when she got back was work. Here, she had someone who cared about her, someone to build a life with. But restarting a career was a huge undertaking. Even though she’d had some success already, she might never have the same balance of gigs and orchestra that she had in Boston. The reviews hadn’t gotten her off on the best footing. All those years…all that work.
Her phone called to her from across the room, poking out of the front pocket of her purse. She hadn’t checked her messages since last night.
Michelangelo stared into her eyes with expectation.
The bright morning light had brought clarity and reality along with it. She sighed. ‘Let’s take it one step at a time, okay?’ Who knew if he’d even have a vineyard? He had enough problems with his mom, and he didn’t need one more mouth to feed—which was exactly what he’d have to do until she pieced together a new career here in Italy. Everything was happening too fast and she needed time to think.
Michelangelo’s face fell as though she’d stabbed him in the chest. ‘Of course.’
Carly pulled away. She couldn’t stand to see his disappointment. But she also couldn’t give him a promise she might not be able to keep. ‘Let’s get this show on the road, shall we?’ She tried to sound cheerful, but an edge of anxiety worked its way into her words.
They showered, dressed, and ate a quick breakfast. The bus with the musicians pulled up to the front of the estate, and Carly welcomed the orchestra as Michelangelo unloaded the instruments. Bertha and Trudy seemed charmed by the place at first sight, and even Al stopped to take a few pictures with his phone.
While she waited for Bertha to climb down the steps of the bus, she chanced a glance at the man she was falling for. For the first time in her life, she had something to fight for beyond her own music career. Her life had new meaning, a new direction. But, could she follow that direction, or would she risk giving too much up?
A bigger question gnawed at her composure: was he enough for her to stay?
Michelangelo’s dark hair had fallen in front of his eyes and he brushed it away. As if sensing her examination, he turned toward her. A smile stretched across his lips. He was in his element, and in his element he was truly happy.
Damn! Carly wanted him.
She hoped beyond measure this concert would succeed. Everything rested on it. Save the winery first and then she had a decision to make.