He turned to look at her as they approached the town. Julia looked back with those twinkly eyes of hers, and he went weak at the knees.
They parked at the edge of town and walked through the winding old streets. Julia asked to take a few photographs of the stone arches. Daniel tried to pretend she had no effect on him. He was becoming a total melt with age—that was clear. In his youth, an evening in an Italian hill town had meant a night of rowdy parties, not thoughts of romance.
Daniel leaned against an ancient wall and watched her. Julia was like a small child, really, so full of joy, so careless, so excited about small things. Jessica, his cheating girlfriend, was a lawyer. She wore black suits and four-inch pumps, ran their dates on a schedule, and gave him a list of her preferences of sexual positions. He had been incredibly annoyed by her most of the time.
Julia looked back at him, breaking his memories. “Thanks for being patient.”
“No problem.” It didn’t matter how long she took. He’d watch her for hours.
“One more picture, just one more,” she said, waving to him.
She finished half an hour later, and they walked to the market square to get a table for dinner. Daniel was starving. Julia couldn’t decide which pasta dish to order, and he helped her order three different ones. He was glad she wasn’t one of those women who stayed away from carbs. He couldn’t wait to order a dessert with her. Nothing was better than sharing a fresh tiramisu with a woman he liked. But as they ate, he found he didn’t care about the dessert but rather about watching Julia’s face as she talked, eyes lit up with excitement no matter what she discussed, her dimple showing as she smiled.
The music played on the square, inciting several couples to leave their plates and dance. He thought it’d be lovely to hold Julia in his arms for a few minutes. He stretched a hand toward hers. “Care for a dance?”
She shook her head, her cheeks turning a lovely tomato color. “Oh, I don’t dance.”
“Sure you do.”
“No, thanks.”
He sat back and watched her for a moment as she sipped her wine. Someone should’ve danced with Julia, and a lot. Someone should’ve kissed her a lot, too. She enjoyed dancing, he was sure of that. She’d be fabulous at it, too. Daniel remembered the graceful way he had seen her move in the past few days. It would be wonderful to feel her body pressed against his, leading her, swaying with her.
They finished their dinner without talking, Julia watching the dancers, and Daniel drank more wine than he should have.
“I’m going to be sad leaving here tomorrow,” she said, sighing.
He swallowed. Why was she leaving tomorrow? She clearly enjoyed herself at the estate now. “I’d rather you stayed. I’ve gotten used to you as my travel companion.”
“Back in Rome, you said you didn’t want me to misunderstand our relationship. I’ve been trying not to.”
“It’s not what I meant,” he began. What a git he really was.
She laughed. “Don’t worry, I know what you meant. But we shouldn’t push it, right? I’ve had a lovely time here, but there’s no point to stretching things. Our lives are not connected in any way. Can you give me a ride to the bus to Florence tomorrow morning?”
“I can, but you need not hurry. Stay for the day, and I’ll show you how they make wine here. We never visited the wine cellar or lounged by the pool today.”
“Don’t you need to take care of Mia and visit with your family?”
“I have plenty of time.”
She leaned forward. “Daniel, what’s the point of a few more hours or one more day? It still has to end, eventually. I can’t stay forever, and you don’t live here either.”
“The point is we’re having an excellent time together. You are on a holiday, I’m on a bit of a break, and it feels good to be together. Does there have to be a plan for what happens next?” he asked. Why did women always want to plan their entire future?
“I don’t know. I’ll think about it. I know for sure my vacation plans didn’t include staying at a place as beautiful as your sister’s.”
“Mandy will be happy to hear you say that. She’s proud of La Casa delle Nuvole. Stay a little longer, have more of my aunt’s bakery goods, and then you can go find your mother. What is your plan for when you find her, anyway?”
“I’m not sure.” Julia shrugged. “Park the car, go knock on the door, and ask for Giulia Rigazio. That’s my mother’s name.” She took a sip of her wine. “Afterward—I’ll run away as fast as I can because, to be honest, I’m way too chicken to meet her.”
“I was only joking about the serial killer thing.”
She smiled. “What if she hates that I came to find her?”
“She sent you the painting.”
“But it doesn’t mean she wanted me to come knocking on her door. Maybe it was her need to have closure.”
“You came all the way to Italy just to have doubts?”
She sighed. “You are right. I must have more guts than this. It’s just that it’s much harder than I ever imagined. I’d prefer to hang out here with you at this lovely place and bake, drink wine, and pick apricots. Even the rotten ones.”
He leaned forward. “I’d love for you to stay here and pick apricots and drink wine, too.”
“It’s a bubble, though—this place, you, the pasta, the wine, the apricots. It will all burst one day, and I’ll find myself right back at home, vacation over.” Julia’s face drooped with sadness, and Daniel’s heart fell.
“Don’t think like that. Enjoy it for what it is,” he said.
“I’m not that kind of person. I don’t relax and enjoy and have fun. I plan and organize.”
“This is coming from a woman who came to Italy for the first time, stole a dog, and took a ride with a stranger?” Daniel smiled.
“I see your point, but you don’t quite know me well enough.”
Julia was quiet on the way back, and Daniel drove at a slow speed and wondered what she was thinking about. She looked tired. After he parked, Daniel suddenly found that his legs walked slower than necessary from the car up the hill to the house.
“Look at all these lovely stars.” Julia pointed at the sky. “Are they always this bright in Italy?”
“Perhaps. I’m not in the habit of looking up.”
“You should look up sometimes when you are out of the city. Probably you can’t see stars in London.”
He laughed. “No. Not much stars there. What about where you live?”
“I live in the beautiful Texas Hill Country, where we can see stars almost every night. But not this bright.”
Julia turned her face to him, and Daniel was struck by the sudden desire to put his hands in her hair, ruffle her curls, and bring those blue eyes close to his so he could see the stars in them as he kissed her. She must have sensed it, because he saw her chest move faster and she fidgeted with her hands.
Somewhere in the house, from one of the guest windows, Andrea Bocelli’s “Con Te Partirò” began to play and, this time, Daniel didn’t ask.
He took her hands and pulled her up to him gently, wrapping one hand around her waist. He held her close, finally seeing her eyes sparkle as near as he wished.
“See, you do dance,” he whispered into her ear as he swayed her in a gentle rhythm, in the middle of the garden, with only the stars watching.
“I will step on your feet,” she whispered, her body pulling away a little.
“You are doing fine,” he said and pulled her back to him, pressing his cheek against hers.
“What is this song?” she asked.
“ ‘Con Te Partirò’ by Andrea Bocelli. He is a famous Italian opera star.”
Julia’s body responded to the words, even if she didn’t know what they meant. Her hips swayed in a perfect rhythm against his; her feet stepped in sync with his. Her eyes were full of wonder as he spun her, and she followed his lead with grace, landing in his embrace a second later. As he’d predicted, it was a joy to feel her war
m body pressed against his. Her smell intoxicated him. Daniel wished the song would last longer, but he had to let her go, eventually.
“Thank you,” Julia said as they stopped, looking up at him with her beautiful large eyes. “I haven’t danced in years.”
Years? How was that possible?
“Someone should dance with you often, Julia Ramos,” he said, leading her to the house, still holding her hand.
Chapter 16
Julia’s entire body melted into Daniel’s as they danced. Her heart beat with the rhythm of every note of the gorgeous song. Only the stars watched them as they moved slowly in the garden of this ancient land, on top of this magnificent hill, inhaling the aromatic fragrances of roses and herbs. Perhaps it was all magic and, at midnight, the spell would break and she’d find herself sitting in an old rag of a dress, in front of a pumpkin, holding a glass slipper.
But then—did it matter? All that mattered was the way Daniel looked at her right now, how it felt when his fingers rubbed her back in small circles, sending electrical pulses all over her body.
Andrea Bocelli stopped singing, Daniel’s hands moved away, and the spell broke.
“Thank you,” she said, suddenly shy. “I haven’t danced in years.”
“Someone should dance with you often, Julia Ramos,” he said, taking hold of her hand and leading her to the house.
She hoped he wouldn’t let go, but, as they entered, her hallway led to the right and his to the left. Time to say goodnight yet again and go their separate ways.
“Thank you for dinner,” she said.
“You don’t have to thank me.”
“I’m sure you wanted to spend time with your family.”
“They’re tired. They’ve gone to bed.”
“Well, goodnight,” she said, tugging her fingers out of his.
He let go, leaned his back against the wall, and smiled. “Goodnight, Texas. Sleep well.”
“Goodnight, Shakespeare.”
She smiled all the way up to her room. Then she remembered that Lizzy was with Francesca. Darn it. This dog would break her heart; she predicted it. She sat down on the bed and explored her options. Was the best thing to leave the dog where she was or to spend one more night with her? She would be leaving tomorrow and had only a few more hours to hold her little furry friend. But Lizzy wasn’t hers anymore. It would be best to let her get used to her new fancy home.
Julia sat on her bed, her eyes tearing up. Time for the pumpkin and rats. She was about to be truly alone. Mother was gone. Her dad had a new family, and so did Lizzy. Daniel didn’t need her. And lonely Julia only had her painting. A painting from a stranger who gave her up years ago and never remembered her until last year.
She sighed and wiped at the tear sliding down her cheek. Maybe she could spend just one more night with Lizzy. It was too cruel to be alone in this great mansion when everyone else was with someone. One more night wouldn’t hurt anyone. She changed out of her dress and into a pair of gym shorts and a T-shirt and went looking for Francesca’s room. She only hoped that, like most Italians, Francesca kept late hours.
The house was dark, but Julia heard distant laughter and conversation in some of the rooms. She stood in the hallway by the kitchen, unsure which room belonged to Francesca. Maybe if she listened for Lizzy’s sounds she could tell. She wasn’t even certain that Lizzy was in Francesca’s room, anyway. Panic gnawed at her insides. She should’ve made a plan for where to find Lizzy when she got back from her dinner.
She crept down the hallway, feeling much like a thief, listening for any sound a dog would make, but heard nothing besides her own heartbeat drumming in her ears. The old stone walls and heavy wooden doors kept sounds well hidden. It was hopeless. She slowly walked back to the kitchen, looked in the dining room, just to be sure, and then in the main reception area, but there was no sign of her dog.
Well, it wasn’t even her dog anymore.
Julia wiped the tears off her face with the back of her hand and went out to the moonlit front garden. There was no way she’d sleep tonight. Not alone. She stood on the balcony overlooking the path toward the vineyard and decided she had better leave early. Daniel had asked her to stay and not worry about what would happen in the future, but he was wrong. She couldn’t afford any more attachment to this place, to Daniel, to the dog. A clean break would be best. She didn’t belong here in this palace in the clouds, in this dream with Daniel, in this country with all this beauty around her. The cicadas loudly announced their agreement a moment later.
She wiped more tears. Really, what was wrong with her? She’d been crying all evening.
“This is ridiculous. I have to stop,” she said out loud.
“She speaks,” Daniel’s voice whispered below, and she nearly jumped out of her skin.
“You frightened the living daylights out of me, Daniel,” she said, trying to catch her breath. She squinted, trying to locate him in the dark. “Where are you?”
“She speaks,” Daniel repeated, his voice suddenly close as he appeared on the path below the terrace, smiling, then stopped.
“O, speak again, bright angel, for thou art
As glorious to this night, being o’er my head,
As is a winged messenger of heaven.”
“Stop it, Shakespeare,” she said, waving him away.
But Daniel continued, gesturing theatrically, as he walked around the terrace, coming up to stand next to her.
“Unto the white-upturned wondering eyes
Of mortals that fall back to gaze on him
When he bestrides the lazy puffing clouds
And sails upon the bosom of the air.”
She was touched. It was beautiful. Daniel was wonderful. How did he know she couldn’t sleep? “What does that mean,” she asked, “ the ‘sails upon the bosom of the air’ line?”
“I suppose that means that the angel is above the mortals and can fly on the clouds through the air, while the rest of us walk on earth. Why were you crying?”
“I can’t find Lizzy. I’m sure she is fine. But it’s like she already belongs to this place, while I have to leave tomorrow.”
Daniel took her hands in his and looked into her teary eyes. “You know, there’s a law here in Italy—in Milan—that everyone has to smile at all times or they will be fined a large sum of money.”
She laughed, tears shaking off her cheeks. “Liar.”
“I swear, you can google it. See, I made you smile. Much better.”
“I don’t feel much like smiling.”
“It’s a pity. I love it when you smile. You get this adorable dimple right in this spot.” He stroked her cheek with his fingers.
She shivered.
“Are you cold?” he asked and brought her into his arms.
Julia pressed her head into his warm chest. “I’m good now.” She looked up at him. “What does Shakespeare say next?”
He lifted her chin with his forefinger, whispering,
“The moon shines bright: In such a night as this,
When the sweet wind did gently kiss the trees,
And they did make no noise, in such a night…”
Then he brought his lips down onto hers. His lips were silk, and he tasted of espresso, and grapes, and the leathery flavor of Chianti. She wanted to drink him all night. His hands circled her waist, and she felt his fingers on the bare skin of her back underneath her shirt, sending delightful shivers down to her legs.
“I didn’t know Shakespeare could be so romantic,” she said when he pulled away.
“There’s a lot you don’t know, Texas.”
He led her to a bench and sat down with her on his lap. “Seriously, are you cold?”
“Not anymore.”
He stroked her shoulders, and she ruffled his hair, no longer caring about anything in the world except for touching this man. Soon, she would be leaving and the time they’d had together would be forgotten. But their time had been so incredible—tonight, and the evening in Rome whe
n they sat on the steps eating gelato, and the night in the car. There had been so many moments, really. How would she pretend none of it mattered?
Julia tried to stop thinking about the future. He was right. She should enjoy her time here with Daniel in this magical place in the hills. And all the time she had in Italy. She would make it all matter. That’s why she had come here.
“You don’t have to leave tomorrow,” Daniel said. “I told you earlier, I’d love it if you stayed,” he whispered, his lips softly moving along her jaw and down to her neck.
Julia felt blood flowing to the spots he kissed, desire spreading down her entire body, little jolts of it, making it hard to sit still. She had only one night left with him. She shouldn’t let this opportunity get away from her. How often was a gorgeous man interested in having sex with her?
She bent down and sealed her decision with a kiss. He shifted below her, a bulge growing underneath. There would be someone in her bed tonight. And someone who was a very good kisser. She deepened her kiss and adjusted her position.
“Wait, Julia, don’t,” Daniel said, pulling his face away from her.
“Don’t?” She raised her brows and tried to resume the kiss.
“I’m getting too excited.” He pushed her away and took her off his lap. “I ought to say goodnight.”
“No need,” she said, smiling, and getting up. Daniel was clearly trying to be some sort of a gentleman. “I like excited.” She stretched her hand out. “Come with me. To my room. It’s my vacation. I could use company tonight.”
He frowned. “I don’t think that’s such a good idea. I don’t want to take advantage.”
“Oh, good lord.” She rolled her eyes. “I want you to take advantage. Come have sex with me. Make love to me. Don’t be all British about it.” Julia put her hands on her hips. She certainly hoped she was crystal clear now. What was the matter with him?
Daniel stood up. “I’m not the type of man who sleeps with a woman he just met.”
Julia was exasperated. She was throwing herself at him. Had she misread his cues? Did he not have his tongue down her throat just few minutes ago? “Look, you said yourself you didn’t want a complicated relationship right now. I’m offering you easy, uncomplicated sex. And we didn’t just meet. What’s wrong with you?” She looked at Daniel’s face, still confused. She thought of what else to say, but the wine kicked in heavily, and she suddenly felt entirely too tired and nauseous for this. “Forget it. Goodnight.” She stood up and began to walk away.
The House by the Cypress Trees Page 12