Authors: Barbara Wallace
“What I meant was that I am sorry I accused you of abandoning the palazzo,” he said.
“Oh.” The tiniest of blushes tinged her cheekbones as she looked down at her feet. “Thank you,” she said. “And I’m sorry I lost my temper.”
“Then we are even.” Funny, but he’d forgotten why she’d lost her temper in the first place.
By silent agreement, they started walking toward the production facilities. They’d been in the field most of the morning, Nico realized, or so said the sun beating on the back of his neck. His employees would be looking for him. Wasn’t like him to ignore the winery for so long. Add another uncharacteristic behavior to the growing list.
Even though Louisa’s confession answered a lot of questions, Nico found his mind more jumbled than before. Mostly with vague unformed ideas he couldn’t articulate. Finally, because he felt the need to say
something
while they walked, he said in a quiet voice. “I’m glad you made it to Italy.”
The sentiment didn’t come close to capturing any of the thoughts swirling in his head, what he wanted to say, but it was enough to make Louisa smile.
“Are you really?” she asked.
She sounded so disbelieving.
“Yes, really,” he replied. More than he’d realized until this moment. The town wouldn’t be the same without her. The palazzo and Monte Calanetti needed her. He...
The thought lingered just out of reach.
He knew he was taking a risk, but he closed the distance between them anyway, reaching up with his hands to cradle her face. “I can’t imagine Monte Calanetti without you.”
Her trembling lower lip begged for reassurance or was it that he begged to reassure her? To kiss her and let her know just how glad he was to have her in Monte Calanetti.
Cool fingers encircled his wrists, holding him. Stopping him. She was backing away yet again. “Thank you,” she said, slipping free.
This time when she began to walk, Nico purposely lagged behind.
CHAPTER EIGHT
“
M
AY
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.