The Sicilian's Bride (13 page)

“He must be an amazing man, making wine, growing roses and painting pictures. I hope I’ll get a chance to meet him.”

“He’d like to meet you, I’m sure. But I warn you, he doesn’t mince words. He speaks his mind. He can be charming when he wants to be. He’s always had a weakness for pretty women. It runs in the family.” He paused. “Not the charm but the weakness.”

Her cheeks burned. Not just at the unexpected compliment, but at the significance of the remark.

He stepped forward, a look in his eyes that made her knees weak. It was the same look she’d seen last night when she’d thought he was going to kiss her.

“I don’t know about the weakness,” she murmured, “but I’d say you’ve inherited your share of the charm.” Would she have said that yesterday, before he brought her lunch, before she met his family, before she heard what he had to say about his ex-fiancée?

He smiled. A slow smile that spread to his intense blue eyes. Her heart thudded. If he touched her her skin would sizzle. That’s how hot she was.

The sound of the Puccini aria rose and filled the air. She didn’t know what the words meant, but she understood pure passion when she heard it and when she felt it. Isabel’s heart raced. The longing in the song matched the longing in her
heart. A longing to hold and be held. To kiss and be kissed. That’s all.

He was going to kiss her this time. She knew it.

W
HEN HIS LIPS
came down to claim hers she was ready. If truth be told, she’d been wanting him to kiss her since the first time she’d seen him when she’d thought he was a humble field worker. His kiss was so hot she thought she might burn up. She felt his arms tighten around her. His strong, muscled thighs pressed against her. She moaned softly, wanting more. Her heart banged in her chest and she kissed him back.

He groaned deep in his throat and pressed her back a few steps to the wall where she could lean against the smooth stones, all without breaking the kiss, even intensifying it. Then the rhythm changed just as the music did. He invaded her mouth with his tongue, taking and giving her so much pleasure she wanted to sink to the floor and take him with her.

He splayed his hands on her bare shoulders. Then he pulled away and looked at her as if he was seeing her for the first time. The cool skeptical look he once wore was gone. Instead there was white-hot desire, burning with a blue flame. He didn’t say a word, but the questions in his eyes were clear. Do you want this as much as I do?

She wanted it as much as he did. Needed it. Needed to feel whole again, desirable again, if only for the moment. If only for tonight. She didn’t hesitate. She put her arms around his
neck and kissed him again. The answer to his unspoken question was hot feverish kisses she couldn’t stop. He reached for the strap on her dress and teased it off her shoulder. She gasped and realized he could peel the straps off along with her dress and make love to her tonight on the floor or in his bedroom and no one would find it strange. In fact, maybe the whole family assumed that’s what they were doing. They might think it would be good for him. Good for her.

Yes, she thought. Yes. She was alive in every pore of her body. More than that, she felt warm and feminine and desirable for the first time in a long time. It was a heady and delirious feeling. It shocked her, but at the same time she never wanted it to stop.

Dario was like no other man she’d ever known. He was Sicilian. He was passionate and proud and impulsive. He tasted like wine and smelled earthy and masculine and he felt hard and solid. He felt like the kind of man you could lean on. If she were someone else. Or if he were someone else. But he wasn’t, and neither was she. She wouldn’t and she shouldn’t lean on anyone—not on him, of all people. He wasn’t in the market for a relationship and neither was she. Just a flirtation. There was nothing wrong with that, was there?

Her breath was coming in short bursts. Her face was flaming. With one finger he stroked the rounded curve of her breast through the cotton fabric of her dress. She could only imagine how it would feel if she could shed the dress and let it fall to the floor at her feet. His hands would caress her heated skin, teasing…soothing, exciting. She didn’t want him to stop. She wanted this feeling to go on forever. She wanted to stay there in his arms, to take the next step wherever it led.

Her whole body throbbed with anticipation. But somewhere in the back of her mind she knew she had to stop. With shaking fingers she adjusted her strap, then put her hands on
his shoulders and held him at arm’s length. She was gasping for breath, trying to fill her lungs with air. Trying to regain her self-consciousness.

“I…I think I’d better go home,” she said, only half aware she didn’t really have a home to go to. Not yet. “I’m afraid I lost my head for a moment.” If only she had a better excuse.

“Nothing wrong with that,” he said. “I thought it was about time for this to happen.” His voice was so deep and low she had to strain to catch the words. “You’re a very attractive woman and I’ve resisted up until now, but it hasn’t been easy. Blame it on the night, the wine or the dress you’re wearing. Or blame it on me.”

She shook her head. “It was my fault. I know better. Or I should know better. Now I should go.”

“Sit down for a minute,” he said.

Obediently she sank into one of the leather chairs at the fireplace. Every muscle ached and her skin was covered with goosebumps. He stood with an elbow against the stone mantel, looking down at her. She had no idea what was on his mind. Her brain was racing, trying to anticipate. She was trying not to show how much his kisses affected her. They made her melt inside. They made her wonder if they meant anything to him. She knotted her fingers together and waited. There was a long silence before he finally spoke.

“I have to apologize,” he said at last.

“Please don’t. I wanted you to kiss me.”

A hint of a smile tugged at one corner of his mouth making him look more gorgeous than ever. He leaned forward and focused his intense blue gaze on her. “Not for that. For trying to pressure you to sell the land when it was obvious you have more of a right to it than I do. The important thing is that you want the best for it. I do too. You’ll pick grapes and you’ll make prize-winning wine. And if you need help, you can call
on me. When I saw you on the road for the first time and I realized who you were, I confess I wanted nothing more than for you to leave. I’d been through a bad time since Magdalena left. I’d been betrayed and, what was worse, the whole world knew it. I was angry, not just with Magdalena, but with everyone in the world. With friends who told me it wouldn’t last, with my family who warned me she was wrong for me. And most of all with myself for being blind.” He shook his head as if he couldn’t believe what had happened.

Isabel wanted to get up and throw her arms around him and tell him he wasn’t blind, he was just human. He was Sicilian, proud, passionate and emotional.

“For a long time I hid out from my friends and family,” he said. “I didn’t want to see anyone. I didn’t want to be the object of their pity or their scorn. You came along. You knew nothing about what happened. You forced me to take action. At first I did everything to discourage you. I thought you were another opportunist, a gold digger, out to take advantage of our family.”

“So you told me there were snakes.”

“Snakes, mice, bats, boar…whatever it took. They weren’t all lies. But I underestimated you.” He gave her a wry smile.

She nodded. “It happens to me a lot. I’m used to it. No one thought I’d amount to anything being tossed about as a child, no parents, no money, nothing. But I got an education, a job and now a vineyard. And I made it on my own. With the help of my uncle of course.” Maybe it sounded like bragging; she hoped he’d accept it for what it was—the truth.

He went to the sideboard, opened a bottle of an amber liquid and poured two fingers worth into two glasses. He handed her one and touched his glass to hers.

“To your uncle,” he said, “for leaving the grapes to you.”

“To you,” she said. “For the food, the ice and the workers.”
And the kisses. Oh, those earth-shaking kisses.
“What would I have done without you?”

She sipped the rich warm flavor of aged Scotch and felt it burn a trail right through her body.

“You’d be fine. You don’t need me. You have what it takes to make things work. You’ve got more determination than anyone I know.”

His words warmed her heart along with the Scotch. But she did need him. Badly. “I have a feeling I’ll need all the determination I can get. So far I haven’t spent a night at the Azienda or fought off the wild boar—which I’m sure are real. So maybe you should save your praise until I do.”

He shrugged. “All right.”

She forced herself to stand and look at the door. She had to leave even though she wanted to stay. It was wrong even to consider staying and she knew it. She’d been badly burned and she knew enough to stay away from the fire. Falling for Dario would be the worst thing she could do. Just a taste of having someone to kiss, someone to talk to, someone to share her thoughts with, someone to lean on when things went wrong and someone to share the work with made her want more.

She who prided herself on her confidence, her ability to stand on her own, was feeling vulnerable tonight. Tomorrow she’d be back to her self-reliant personality. She had to be.

The breeze from the open window had cooled her overheated face, the music had died down and she had to leave. He didn’t try to stop her. He picked up his car keys and they left the house. She turned to look back, wondering if she’d come back to his house. Wondering if he’d ever share it with anyone. Wondering what this evening meant to him. Maybe it was just a transition from Magdalena to the world of available women again. Maybe she was just the first on his road to recovery. Maybe she was just a bridge, nothing more, nothing less.

For her it was just a few kisses, and some exchanged confidences, that’s all it could possibly be. She might be tempted, but she’d never trust, never love and never let her guard down again. Not for anyone. Especially not for a passionate Sicilian who was out of her reach. He’d made it clear he felt the same.

In his car on the way to the hotel, with the scent of roses in the air, she decided to set matters straight now that she was in command of her brain again.

“I have to tell you, after what I’ve been through, I don’t indulge in casual flirtations,” she said.

“I never thought you did,” he said soberly. “My kissing you was spontaneous and rash. I told you it’s a Sicilian fault. It had something to do with the way you look tonight. And the way you play tennis. The way you watch me repair a flat tire. The way you eat melon and drink white wine. All those things made me want to kiss you. And the way your chin sticks up in the air when you’re angry. It was an impulse, that’s all. At least on my part. I can’t answer for you.” He slanted a look at her that said he was aware that the kisses they’d shared were not one-sided. “I haven’t any other excuses. It won’t happen again unless you want it to.”

What could she say to that that wouldn’t sound desperate? Of course she wanted it to. Of course she’d deny it. She was shaky and tense and on the edge of her seat all the way home in his car. She hadn’t meant to get carried away, but what did he expect? He was the sexiest man she’d ever known. He radiated heat and masculine strength in ways she’d never experienced. She’d have to be made of stone not to respond.

What a day it had been. Filled with unexpected discoveries and obstacles, a dinner with sparkling conversation, followed by mutual baring of the souls and emotional upheaval, physical and emotional intimacy and now this. Her mind was spinning and she longed for a hot bath and a soft
bed. How would she cope with a hard bed and no hot water? How would she cope with wild boar and an overwhelming attraction to the one man she should avoid getting involved with?

D
ARIO DROVE
as fast as he could on the winding road back to the Montessori estate. He tried to put Isabel Morrison out of his mind, but he couldn’t erase the taste of her lips on his, the feeling of her body pressed against his and the touch of her skin, as smooth as silk.

Even though he’d told her and himself it wouldn’t happen again, even though he knew it shouldn’t, he wanted it to. He wanted to see her eyes full of desire, feel her body tremble in his arms, inhale the scent of her hair, and hear her sigh deep in her throat. Just a taste of her only made him want more. She excited him, challenged him and tantalized him. She made him feel alive again for the first time in a year. Maybe she didn’t want a casual flirtation, but he was starting to think that was exactly what he wanted.

She was probably going to stay; he’d come to terms with that fact. The two of them were both young and unattached. They were in the same business. He’d offered to help her. There was no way they could avoid each other even if they wanted to, which he didn’t. As long as she didn’t expect anything from him except support in the vineyards. That he could give. Anything else—promises or commitments—was out of the question. He’d learned his lesson, as he’d told
Isabel, and learned it the hard way. But an affair didn’t have to mean forever. It could mean for now. It could be good for both of them. She needed to forget about the guy who’d treated her badly just as much as he needed to forget about his past, move on.

He dropped back in at the family house before going home. Just to see what they had to say about Isabel. As if he didn’t know. He’d seen the approving smiles on their faces before he left tonight. The family had a tendency to jump to conclusions and have him married off before he knew it. Before things got out of hand, it was time he made it clear to them that while Isabel was attractive and admirable, there was no room in his life for a permanent woman, not now, not ever. As for a girlfriend…As for an affair…He was beginning to think that was a different matter.

The family was in the living room, everyone but his nonna, who’d gone to bed. As soon as he walked in the door, just as he anticipated, they started.

“This Isabel is a beautiful woman, Dario. She likes you. Why I don’t know,” his brother teased. “So what are you waiting for?”

“We liked her. The kids liked her too,” Lucia added pointedly.

He knew what she was referring to. The kids hadn’t liked Magdalena. And she hadn’t liked them.
They’re so loud. Always in the way
, she’d said.
Let’s not go to the house. It’s all about them. So many of them. All the time…. We can never be alone
.

“As far as we’re concerned, Dario, Magdalena is gone and forgotten,” Maria burst in. “No one blames you for what happened. Let’s forget the past and welcome Isabel by helping her with the Blessing. I’ll talk to Father about it and we’ll all be there to celebrate. It’s the least we can do for a newcomer.”

“I’m sure she’ll be grateful for your help,” he said. The Blessing was fine, as long as they didn’t think Isabel was
another potential fiancée. There would never be another one of those in his life and he was glad of it. But Isabel was good for him. He’d readily admit that. She’d made him feel as if he’d had a jolt of electric power shot into him. The kisses they’d exchanged had left an imprint on his mouth and his mind. She was obviously what he needed, even though he hadn’t known it. An affair, a romance. He had to persuade Isabel that they could have one, and he had to make it clear to his family that that was all it could ever be. Not tonight though. He didn’t want to start a discussion about his future, so he said good-night and left before they could continue to sing Isabel’s praises.

Back at his house, the living room seemed large and empty. He looked around, picturing Isabel in front of the mantel, seeing her face when she heard the music and imagining her standing there, her dress on the floor, in nothing but briefs and a bra and then…

He was trying to see the place through her eyes wondering how it looked to her. Too severe, too masculine, too subdued?

He saw her as she was, standing breathless, her eyes half-closed, one strap off her shoulder, looking so soft, so desirable…He didn’t know what would have happened if she hadn’t stopped him. Would she still be here?

Dario fell into a dreamless sleep for the first time in months. He was no longer haunted by disturbing negative memories of Magdalena, instead there were visions of Isabel passing through his subconscious, walking through the vineyards, her hips swaying, her glorious hair shining like copper in the sunlight.

Isabel didn’t see Dario or any member of his family the next day. She didn’t expect to, but she wondered, would he act as if nothing had happened? Would she? What did the evening
mean? Was it the beginning of an affair or the end of their dispute? Or was it both?

The question kept her awake half the night. That and the memory of how his kisses felt on her lips and in her mind. She replayed his words over and over—
an impulse…spontaneous and rash
…Which would mean that it probably wouldn’t happen again. The idea left her feeling low. She knew it was wrong, but she wanted more. How much more, she didn’t know. How would she handle another relationship? This time she would not get her heart broken. She was too smart. She’d been through too much.

It was good to have a day without seeing him. Even if it seemed like a day without sunshine. But she didn’t want to rely on him and she certainly didn’t want to think about him all the time. He was an attractive man and a different man from the one she’d met the first day. He’d changed his mind about her and about the Azienda. She’d changed her mind about him.

She hadn’t come to Sicily to have an affair with anyone, least of all the richest and sexiest but most unavailable man in the area. He’d already been burned by a beauty queen. He should be off limits. Until last night she’d thought he was. She’d told him that she didn’t indulge in casual flirtations. Now she couldn’t help but wonder if the attraction between them could lead anywhere, whether a casual flirtation could be better for her than a serious relationship…

She spent the day at the vineyard supervising and picking grapes with the workers, but she kept listening for his car, watching the driveway and trying not to feel let down when he didn’t come by with food, drinks and advice. And hot, sizzling kisses that rivaled the sky-high Sicilian summer temperatures.

In the evening she was restless. She decided she couldn’t stay at the hotel anymore no matter how much she wanted a hot bath and a soft bed. So she had an early dinner of spicy
pasta arrabiata and a crisp salad by herself in the hotel dining room. She was the only customer since most Italians didn’t eat dinner until ten o’clock.

She kept her eye on the door but no one else came to eat at that early hour. No tall, handsome Sicilian came looking for her, to join her and share food with her. She ate alone, determined to enjoy it. But what a contrast with her meals with Dario. The hotel dinner at the small table where their knees bumped and she tried to act normally while dressed in a robe, the family dinner where he sat across from her looking like an Italian movie star while she sipped Sicilian soup.

Then she checked out of the hotel before it got dark and she lost her nerve. Without a backward look at the charming Hotel Cairoli she drove resolutely back to the Azienda. It was dusk and the sun turned the fields on both sides of the road to gold.

Tonight the Montessori family would again be gathered around a big table laughing and talking and sharing their experiences with each other. Would Dario be there too? Had he changed his solitary ways and rejoined his family? Or was he eating alone as she had?

Was it a foolish dream to think she’d ever be at home here the way his family was? Maybe after about one hundred years. Should she consider selling the place to his family? Never. In fact, not one of them had even mentioned the possibility. As night fell she couldn’t see the broken tiles on the roof or the hole above the bedroom. This was her home, flaws and all.

After scrubbing her kitchen with some of her precious bottled water by the light of a gas lantern one of the workers had brought her, she climbed the stairs to her bedroom, tired, sore and just a little lonely. She, who’d spent her whole life alone, was feeling lonelier than ever.

She lay in the narrow bed that she’d covered with layers of foam and blankets, then the new sheets and more blankets
that she’d bought at the dry goods store in town. Too tired and too full of anxious thoughts to sleep, she stared up at the stars through the hole in the roof. It wasn’t quite as romantic as she’d hoped it would be. In fact, it was a little scary being alone in the dark, hearing strange rustling sounds from somewhere outside, though nothing, not even wild boars, would let her admit her fears to anyone, especially Dario. Where was he tonight? Probably not at his grandmother’s house. Out with friends at the hotel bar? Or back at his house tackling the mountain of paperwork she’d seen on his desk and listening to opera? She tried to forget the sound of the music, the touch of his hands on her shoulders, and the warmth of his lips on hers. Did he know she’d checked out and was staying here at last? Was he thinking of her?

She could blame her lack of sleepiness on the bed or the strange house, but it was more likely she just couldn’t turn off her brain.

As for her feelings…They were what was keeping her awake tonight. His kisses had awakened something deep inside her that she had thought was long buried. She knew better than to get carried away by another attractive man, but she wasn’t made of granite. She couldn’t turn off her attraction for him so easily. He was Sicilian, she was in Sicily and she loved the land, the climate, the food and the people. It would be so easy to fall hard for a Sicilian and jump into an affair for the full Sicilian experience. If she was a fool that is. She finally fell asleep while thoughts of boars invaded her dreams.

Isabel told herself every day that her job and her life would get easier. She told herself not to expect Dario to keep turning up when she needed him. But after a few days passed without him dropping by or running into her in town she began to wonder when she’d see him again—especially at night when
she lay in her lumpy bed thinking of what a huge project she was facing, harvesting grapes and making wine by herself.

Her thoughts bouncing around in her brain kept her sleepless night after night. But one night it was more than her thoughts that had her wide awake. There were noises outside, getting louder, a strange cacophony of low growling and grunting. Finally she couldn’t pretend it was just the wind in the trees any longer. She jumped out of her narrow bed and went to the window that overlooked the vineyard.

She shone her powerful flashlight onto the field below, and there they were! She jerked up and bumped her head on the window frame at the sight of the big brown animals with short legs and large heads running pell-mell through the vines. She pulled back from the window and rubbed her head.

Every instinct told her to close the window, go back to bed and let them destroy her vines. How could she alone defend her grapes from the wild marauders? And there went her future wine sales just like that. But she had no gun, no crew, no way to scare them off. She could go down there and yell at them, but what if they turned on her with their tusks and speared her leaving her alone and bleeding in the dirt?

She’d sounded brave when discussing the boars with Dario, but that was all talk to impress him. She wasn’t brave at all now with the actual animals in sight. The beasts with their dark fur and huge snouts were after the roots on her vines and would destroy her whole crop unless she did something about it.

“Go,” she shouted at them. “Get out. Get lost. Those are my grapes.” Her voice shook. Her cries were swallowed up in the night air.

Above the noise of the boars, she heard a car. A few minutes later she was blinded by a flashlight shining up at her from beneath her window. She shaded her eyes and saw Dario looking up at her. He had a shotgun over his shoulder. She felt
a surge of the same relief a settler in the old West would have felt at the arrival of the cavalry. She braced herself against the window frame.

“What are you doing here?” she asked, as if she didn’t know.

“I heard the boars were around tonight. I thought I’d better come by and scare them off,” he said.

“I’ll be right down.”

Barefoot, she hurried down the narrow staircase to meet him at the edge of the vineyard.

“Did you know I was here?”

“I knew you weren’t at the hotel. They told me you’d checked out a few days ago. Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I…uh…I was busy.” That was better than telling him how desperately glad she was to see him. Why hadn’t he come looking for her? Because
he
was busy. And she’d had no right to expect him.

She was so glad to see him she had to fight off the urge to throw her arms around him and let him hold her and tell her everything was going to be okay. He was so big, so solid and so confident. He looked as though he could handle any emergency.

“Let’s go,” he said and led the way to the vineyard. It was like a safari, walking single file behind him, stalking the wild boar while he shot pellets at them. Her heart pounded. Her bare feet hit the dirt that sifted between her toes. Her mouth was dry. It was scary and exciting. Dario would let loose a rain of pellets, the boar would scatter, run and then more would take their place.

Dario explained that though the pellets bounced off their fur, they stung and the more they shot the faster the boar would run out of the vineyard. After a long hour, the beasts had finally run off and the vineyard was eerily quiet again. It was over. Isabel’s knees wobbled and her hands shook even though she’d done nothing but watch and stalk.

“I hope this doesn’t happen every night,” she said weakly. “Thank you. You saved me. Maybe they haven’t done too much damage.” It was too dark to see how many vines had been uprooted.