“MAY I BORROW you for a moment?”
Louisa was in the middle of attaching mailing labels to boxes when Nico appeared in her doorway. As soon as she looked in his direction, her stomach somersaulted. She blamed it on the fact that he’d startled her.
Along with the fact he looked as handsome as sin in his faded work clothes. How did the man do it? Look so perfect after being out in the fields for hours. None of the other workers wore hard labor as well. Of course there was always the chance he was supervising more than actually working, but standing around didn’t seem his style. More likely Mother Nature wanted to make sure Nico looked a cut above all the rest.
Mother Nature did her job well.
Nico arched his eyebrow, and she realized he was waiting for a response. What had he asked? Right. To borrow her. “Sure,” she replied. “What do you need?”
“Follow me to the lab.”
Louisa did what he asked, her heart pounding in her chest. She couldn’t blame being startled this time. Your palms didn’t sweat when you were startled.
It’d been two days since their conversation in the vineyard, or rather since Louisa had bared her soul regarding her marriage. They hadn’t talked since. Nico continued to leave the house before breakfast and didn’t return until late. To be honest, Louisa wasn’t sure he came home at all. After all, the dinner plate she left last night hadn’t been touched. If it wasn’t harvest season, she’d worry he was purposely avoiding her.
Oh, who was she kidding? She still worried, just as she was worried how to behave around him now. Strangely enough, however, it wasn’t her meltdown—or her confession—that had her feeling awkward. It was the memory of Nico holding her close yet again.
Since arriving in Italy, Louisa could count on three fingers the number of times she’d truly felt safe and secure. All three had been in Nico’s arms, and they were as engrained in her memory as any event could be. If she concentrated, she could feel his breath as it had brushed her lips when he’d said he couldn’t imagine Monte Calanetti without her. The simplest of words, but they made her feel more special than she’d felt in a long time. With his touch gentle and sure on her cheeks, she’d wanted so badly for him to kiss her.
Still, the last time a man had made her feel special, she’d wound up making the biggest mistake of her life, and while she might be older and wiser, she was also a woman with desires that had been neglected for a long time. The idea of giving herself over to Nico’s care left a warm fluttery sensation in the pit of her stomach—a dangerous feeling, to say the least. Thank goodness she managed to keep her head.
Thank goodness, too, that Nico understood. In fact, seeing his relaxed expression, she’d say he’d managed to brush the moment aside without problem.
Louisa was glad for that. Truly.
Nico’s “lab” was located at the rear of the building a stone’s throw from where the grapes were stored after being picked. Now that harvesting had begun, the rolling door that led to the loading dock was left permanently open so that the forklifts could transport the containers of grapes from the field trucks to the washing area. Louisa breathed deep, taking in as much of the sweet aroma as she could.
“Do you mind if I close the door?” Nico hollered. “It’ll be easier to hear each other.”
She shook her head. Out here the sound was much louder than by her office, where the machines were still dormant.
There was a click and the decibel level was suddenly reduced by half. “Much better,” Nico said.
Better was relative. In addition to being small, the room was stuffed with equipment making the close space tighter still. Standing near the door, Louisa found herself less than a yard away from Nico’s desk, and even closer to Nico himself. He smelled like grapes. To her chagrin, the aroma made her stomach flip-flop again.
Trying to look casual, she leaned against the door, arms folded across her midsection. “What is it you needed to talk about?” she asked him.
“Not talk. Taste.”
He pointed to the equipment on his worktable. “I need a second opinion regarding this year’s blend.”
“This year’s blend?” She knew that super Tuscans were wines made by combining different varieties of grape, but she assumed that once the formula was created, the blend stayed the same.
“Every harvest is different,” Nico replied. “Sometimes only subtly, but enough that the formula should be tweaked. Mario and I have been playing with percentages all day, but we’re not quite sure we’ve achieved the right balance.”
“I see.” Speaking of the university student, she didn’t see him.
Nico must have seen her looking around because he said, “Mario has gone home. He was a little too enthusiastic a taster.”
“You mean he got a little tipsy.”
“Don’t be silly. He needed a break, is all.” He’d gotten tipsy. “Anyway, I think I’m close, but I could use a fresh palate.”
“Wouldn’t you be better off asking someone else? I’m not much of a wine connoisseur.” If he wanted to know about finish and undertones, she couldn’t help him.
“You don’t have to be,” he told her. “You just have to know what you like.”
Stepping to the worktable, he retrieved two beakers containing purple liquid and a pair of wineglasses. “Fancy bottle,” Louisa joked.
“Good things come in odd glass containers,” he joked back. He poured the contents from each into its own glass and set them on the edge of his desk. “Tell me which one of these wines you like better.”
“That’s it?”
“That’s it.”
Simple enough. Picking up the first glass, she paused. “Am I supposed to smell it before I drink?”
“Only if you want to.”
Louisa didn’t. Things like that were better left to someone like Nico who actually understood what they were looking for. “And do I spit or swallow?” She vaguely remembered there was supposed to be some kind of protocol.
“Drink like you would a regular glass of wine. If you normally spit...”
She returned his smirk. “Fine. I get the point.”
The contents of the first glass tasted amazing. Sweet but not overly so with just enough tang to make it stay on your tongue. Delicious. “Mmm,” she said, licking her lips.
She was about to declare the choice easy until she tasted the second glass and found it equally delicious. “You’re kidding,” she said, setting the glass down. “There’s supposed to be a difference?”
“Don’t focus on finding the difference. Tell me which one you like better.”
She tasted each one again, this time with her eyes closed in order to really focus. Took a couple of sips, but in the end, the first glass won out. “This one,” she said, finishing the glass with a satisfied sigh. “Definitely this one.”
When she opened her eyes, she found Nico watching her with an unreadable expression. His jaw twitched with tension as if he was holding back a response. “Tha...” He cleared his throat. Nevertheless his voice remained rough. “Thank you.”
“I hope I helped.”
“Trust me, you helped me a great deal.”
“Good.” Their gazes stayed locked while they talked. Louisa never knew there could be so many different shades of brown. The entire color wheel could be seen in Nico’s irises.
“Would you like some more?” she heard him ask.
Wine. He meant more wine. Louisa blinked, sending everything back into perspective. “Better not,” she said. “I’m not as practiced a wine taster as you are. Or are you purposely trying to send me home like Mario?”
Nico slapped a hand against his chest, mimicking horror. “Absolutely not. We’re shorthanded tonight as it is.”
The float-decorating party. It was Marianna’s idea. With so many of the employees working long hours, she didn’t think it fair to ask them to help decorate the winery float, as well, so she’d convinced a group of friends to do it instead. Louisa had been the first person she’d recruited.
It would be Louisa’s first public appearance since the headlines broke.
“Maybe I will have another glass,” she said reaching for the beaker.
Nico’s hand immediately closed around her wrist, stopping her. “There is no need to be nervous,” he said. “These are your friends.”
“I know.” What amazed her was how much she meant it. A week ago she’d have been a crumbling basket of nerves, but not so much now. Partly because the story was winding down.
And partly because the man next to her was scheduled to be there, as well. Her personal protector at the ready, his presence made being brave a lot easier.
After much back and forth, it was decided the vineyard would have to give up on trying to win any awards and instead design as simple a float as possible. Something that could be assembled with minimal manpower in as short a time as possible. Nico was the one who came up with the idea. Some of the parts of last year’s float, namely the fountain, were in storage. All they needed was fresh foliage. While it was too late in the day for the fountain to spout water again, they could easily recycle it into a different design. And so it was decided they would recreate the royal wedding. Two of his employees would play Prince Antonio and Princess Christina while others played wedding guests. The couples would waltz around the fountain, pretending to dance beneath the stars. It might not be an entirely accurate representation, but it would do the winery proud.
As she watched Nico and Mario retrieve the fountain later that afternoon, she couldn’t help wondering if the idea reminded Nico of the kiss they’d shared. The one she’d told him to forget had ever happened. Which he apparently was having much better luck doing than she was.
Marianna’s party attracted a crowd. In addition to Dani and Rafe, who came on their day off, there were several other couples Louisa had met at Marianna’s baby shower and other events. There was Isabella Benson, one of the local schoolteachers, and her new husband, Connor, along with wedding planner Lindsay and her husband, Zach Reeves, who’d just returned from their honeymoon. Louisa chuckled to herself, remembering the jokes she and Nico had made at the royal wedding about Lindsay and Zach’s obvious adoration for each other. Even Lucia Moretti-Cascini, the art expert who’d worked on the chapel restoration and who was in town visiting her in-laws, was there. Having appointed herself the unofficial design supervisor, she sat on a stack of crates with a sketch pad while swatting away suggestions from her husband, Logan. In fact, the only person missing was the organizer herself.
Not a single person mentioned the tabloid stories or Louisa’s history in Boston. The women all greeted her with smiles and hugs, as if nothing had changed. After years of phony smiles and affection, their genuine embraces had her near tears. Only the reassuring solidity of Nico’s hand, pressed against the small of her back, kept her from actually crying. “Told you so, bella mia,” he whispered as he handed her a glass of wine.
In spite of Marianna’s absence, the work went smoothly. In no time at all, the old pieces were in place and covered with a plastic skin, ready to be decorated.
Louisa and the other women were put in charge of attaching the foliage while the men assembled the foam cutouts that would make the frame for the palazzo walls.
“This is a first,” Dani said as she pressed a grape into place.
“Hot gluing fruit to a chicken-wire nymph. Are we sure this is going to look like marble?”
“Lucia says it will, and she’s the art expert,” Louisa replied.
“Art expert. There aren’t too many museums who deal with produce.”
“They used grapes last year,” Isabella reassured them, “and it looked wonderful.”
“She’s right. I saw pictures,” Louisa said, remembering the photograph of Nico that Marianna had shown her. “Hopefully we’ll do as good a job. I’d hate to embarrass the vineyard.”
“I’m sure we won’t, and if it does turn out a disaster, Nico can always keep it locked in the garage.”
“True.” Louisa reached for a grape to glue into place only to pick up her wineglass instead. Something had been nagging her since the party began and she needed Dani’s perspective. “Did you know that as palazzo owner, I’m supposed to play the part of festival queen?” she asked as she took a drink.
“Really?”
“Nico told me it’s a tradition.”
Dani’s eyes flashed with enthusiasm. “How exciting. Do you get to ride on the back of a convertible and wave to a crowd like a beauty queen and everything?”
“I have no idea.” Although Dani had painted an image she’d rather not contemplate. “I wasn’t planning to do it at all.”
“Why not, if it’s tradition? Sounds like fun.” Dani asked. “I always wanted to be the homecoming queen, but the title always went to some tall cheerleader type.”
“I was a cheerleader.”
Her friend took a sip of wine. “I rest my case.”
“Hey, less drinking, more gluing,” Isabella said, her dark head poking over the nymph’s outstretched arm. “Do not make me come over there and take your wineglasses away.”
Chastised, the pair ducked their heads, though Dani managed to sneak one more sip. “Seriously though,” she said, reaching for the glue gun. “You should totally do it. You’d make a gorgeous festival queen.”
“I’d rather be part of the crowd,” Louisa replied. “I’ve had enough of the spotlight for one lifetime.”
“That I can understand.” Dani said, putting another grape in place. “I didn’t want to bring up a sore subject, but how are you doing? You sound a lot better than you did when I spoke to you on the phone.”
“I feel better,” Louisa answered.
“You have no idea how worried I was when I saw those headlines. Rafe told me how brutal the paparazzi can be, and I was afraid one of them might try something scary.”
“One did try,” Louisa said, “but Nico scared him off.”
“So I read in the papers. Thank goodness he showed up.”
“Thank goodness is right.” Not giving it a second thought, Louisa looked to the other side of the truck bed where he was arguing with Rafe over the foam placement. Sensing he was being watched, he looked over his shoulder and grinned.
She dipped her head before he could see how red her cheeks were. “I’m only sorry his help dragged him into the gossip pages, too,” she said to Dani, hoping her friend didn’t notice the blush either. “He’s a good man.”
“Rafe wouldn’t be his friend if he wasn’t,” Dani replied. “I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but my husband can be a little hard to please.”
“A little?” Rafe Mancini’s demanding reputation was legendary. He’d been known to toss vendors into the street for selling him what he considered subpar products.
And yet, the same chef and his wife had accepted Louisa without question. Louisa felt the swell of emotion in her throat again. Swallowing hard, she did her best to make her voice sound lighthearted “Have I told you I’m really glad we met on the bus from Florence?”
“Is this your not so subtle way of thanking me for being your friend?” Dani asked.
“Maybe.”
Her fellow American gathered her in a hug. “I’m glad we’re friends, too,” she said. “Although if you get hot glue in my hair, I will kill you.”
“And Lindsay and I will kill you both if you do not get to work,” Isabella scolded. “We are not gluing all these grapes by ourselves.”
“Jeez, I’m glad I’m not one of her students,” Dani whispered.
“I heard that.”
Louisa snorted, almost dropping the grape she was putting into place. The teasing reminded her of old times, when she and her college friends would get together and giggle over cocktails. Steven had hated that.
“You too, Louisa,” Lindsay admonished. “Just because you’re dating the boss doesn’t mean you get to slack off.”
Dating—? The newspaper photographs. Just when she thought she’d actually put them behind her. The only saving grace, if there could be one, was that at least these women didn’t consider her some kind of financial predator. Like Marianna the other day, they saw it as a potential romance. “Nico and I aren’t dating,” she told them.
“Are you sure?” Isabella asked. “Those pictures—”
“Were pictures, that’s all,” she said, cutting her off. “The two of us are just friends.”
“Sure, just like Zach and I are friends,” Lindsay replied. She and Isabella exchanged smirks.
“Something tells me the lady protests too much,” the teacher replied.
Louisa stared at the grape-covered plastic in front of her and reminded herself the women were only teasing. Nevertheless, that didn’t stop her skin from feeling as if it was on fire. Not because she was embarrassed or ashamed, at least not in the way she expected to be. She was embarrassed because they were right.
She was protesting too much.
* * *
“I didn’t realize you found the gluing of grapes so fascinating, my friend.”
Nico did his best to look annoyed at his best friend, but the heat in his cheeks killed the effort. “Checking to see how much progress they are making, that is all.”
“Not as much as there would be if you waited longer than thirty seconds between looks,” Rafe replied.
He inclined his head to where the women were laughing and topping up their wineglasses. “It’s all right, you know. She’s a beautiful woman.”
“Who? Your wife?”
“Of course, my wife. But I’m talking about Louisa. I saw the photograph of the two of you in the newspaper. Very romantic.”
“We were at a wedding. Everything about weddings looks romantic.”
“This was different. You were looking at her like...”
“Like what?”
“I don’t know,” his friend replied honestly. “I’ve never seen you look at a woman that way.”
Perhaps because he’d never met a woman like Louisa before. “She’s different,” he said.
“Because she’s an American. They have a different kind of energy about them. It’s very...captivating.”
Captivating was a good word. He felt as though he was under a spell at times, what with the uncharacteristic moods he’d been experiencing. He could feel his friend’s eyes on him. “It’s not what you think,” he said.
“You aren’t attracted to her?”
“Of course I am attracted. Have you looked at her?”
“Then it is exactly what I think. And, if that picture is to believed, the feeling is mutual. And yet the two of you...” His friend set down the foam block he was holding to give Nico a serious look. “You are not together. Since when do you not pursue an interested woman?”
“I told you, Louisa is different.” Other women hadn’t been traumatized by an emotionally abusive Prince Charming. “She’s not the kind of woman you toy with.”
“So don’t toy.”
Rafe made it sound so easy. Problem was Nico wasn’t sure he could do anything else. “Not everyone is made for commitment like you are, my friend.”
A warm hand clapped his shoulder. “What happened with Floriana was a long time ago. People change.”
“Sometimes. Sometimes they don’t.” More often than not, they were like his parents, repeating the same mistakes over and over. With everything she’d been through, Louisa deserved better. “I’ve already broken the heart of one good woman,” he said.
“And haven’t you punished yourself enough for it?” His friend squeezed his shoulder. “You can’t be afraid to try again.”
Nico wasn’t afraid, he was trying to be kind. Rafe meant well, but he didn’t know everything. There were secrets Nico couldn’t share with anyone.
Almost anyone, he amended, eyes looking at Louisa. He’d certainly shared about his parents.
It was a moot point anyway. “You are assuming the decision is 100 percent mine to make,” he said. “Louisa is the one who is not interested. It was Louisa’s choice to keep our relationship platonic.” If she went through with selling the palazzo, they wouldn’t even have that.
“That’s too bad.”
“Yes, it is.” Why lie about his disappointment? He watched as Louisa laughed with her friends. She had her hair pulled back, and there was purple staining her fingers. Beautiful. Seeing her relaxed made him happy.
“But,” Nico said, “you can’t force emotions.” If anyone knew that, it was him.
His cell phone rang, saving him from any further rebuttals. “About time,” he said as the caller ID popped onto the screen. “It’s Ryan,” he told Rafe. “You tell my sister she better have a good reason for skipping out on her own party. The rest of us have been here for hours working on this float.”
Ryan’s reply came back garbled. The building and its terrible service. “Say it again?” he asked.
“I said, would a girl be a good enough excuse?”
“What do you mean ‘a girl’?” Nico straightened at Ryan’s announcement. “Are you talking about a real girl, as in—?”
“A baby, yes.” His brother-in-law gave a breathy laugh. “The most beautiful girl you’ll ever see. Seven pounds, nine ounces and as perfect as her mother.”
Nico’s jaw dropped. He didn’t know what to say. “Congratulations!” he finally managed to get out.
No sooner did he speak than Rafe nudged him with an elbow. “Baby?” he asked. Nico nodded, setting off a small cheer in the garage. Immediately, both Dani and Louisa dropped what they were doing to join Rafe by his side. “Boy or girl?” Louisa asked.
“A girl,” he whispered back. It was hard to believe his baby sister was a mother herself. “How is Marianna?” he asked Ryan. “Is she all right?”
“She’s fantastic. Amazing. When you see what a woman goes through to give birth...” Admiration laced every word Ryan said.
Nico felt a pang of jealousy in the face of such love and devotion. His eyes sought Louisa, who waited for details with folded hands pressed to her lips and eyes turned sapphire with anticipation. Like everyone else, her emotions showed on her face. Everyone but him, that was. His insides were numb as he struggled to process Ryan’s news.
The gulf that separated him from others in the world widened. See? He wanted to tell Rafe. People don’t always change.
He certainly hadn’t.