“You—you’d trust me to do that?”
“Why wouldn’t I?”
“What about Luscious Louisa?”
God, how it hurt to see her looking so vulnerable. Tears rimming her eyes and her lower lip trembling. Silently, he damned Steven Clark for dragging her down with him.
He might have promised to keep his distance, but at this moment, he couldn’t stop himself from closing the space between them. He brushed his thumb across her quivering lip.
“Like I told you before, anyone who has spent time with you knows you’re not the icy seductress the press makes you out to be.”
“Thank you.” A tear slipped out the corner of her eye and he fanned it away with his hand. So vulnerable and so beautiful. It shocked him how badly he suddenly needed to keep her safe. But then, this afternoon had been full of shocking reactions he’d never experienced before.
There was one reaction he recognized, though. The stirring in his jeans as he breathed in her scent. He brushed the hair from her face, the strands reminding him of corn silk. Promise be damned. He wanted to kiss her. Quickly, he stepped away before he could take action. Now was not the time to push his luck. “Go pack a bag,” he told her. “We’ll leave before the paparazzi realize you’re gone.”
* * *
You made the right decision, Louisa reminded herself on the way upstairs. Hiding out was better than running away, and Amatucci Vineyards did make the ideal hiding place. Plus she would be earning her keep. It wasn’t as though she was going to become Nico’s kept woman. She’d insist on the entire arrangement being professional and platonic.
Why, then, was her stomach in knots? Maybe, she thought as her eyes fell on the suitcase in the corner, because she’d gone from leaving town to working for Nico in less than an hour without knowing how she made the journey.
Or maybe it was because saying yes had become a whole lot easier once Nico had brushed her cheek.
CHAPTER FOUR
LUSCIOUS LOUISA’S LATEST CONQUEST?
“TOO BAD THEY couldn’t find a proper synonym. Conquest spoils the alliteration.” Nico said, turning the newspaper over.
Louisa didn’t share his sense of humor. The headline screamed across the front page along with a photograph of her and Nico cropped from one of the official wedding shots. Apparently the photographer Nico kicked off her balcony had done some research following the altercation. The article described how the “enraged” vintner had come to her rescue and implied the two of them had been an item for weeks. Or, as the article put it, she’d managed to charm the richest man in town.
This was exactly what she didn’t need after a restless night. There was still a large part of her dying to grab the first bus to Florence. Screaming loudly, in fact. She couldn’t stop thinking how easily she had agreed to Nico’s idea. Sure, he had a point about staying and proving the press wrong, but to put herself in his care like this? It reminded her of how things had begun with Steven. He’d liked to swoop in and take care of everything when they were dating, too. Only you’re not dating Nico, she reminded herself, staring down at her breakfast pastry.
And unlike with Steven, this time she had age and hindsight in her favor. She may have agreed to stay here, but she would keep her bags packed. That way if the situation changed and the walls started closing in, she could be out of here in a flash.
Meanwhile, her breakfast partner was enjoying his pastry as though he didn’t have a care in the world.
“I don’t know how you can be so cavalier,” she said watching him chew his pastry. Anyone would think he liked being dragged through the tabloid mud.
Nico shrugged. “How am I supposed to act?”
Indignant, perhaps? Angry? Some show of emotion. He’d practically exploded when he discovered the paparazzo yesterday, and that had nothing to do with him. These headlines were personal. “The article makes you sound like a lovesick fool.”
“Which anyone who knows me will immediately recognize as a complete fabrication. I’m not and have never been the lovesick type.”
A fact that should comfort her, seeing as how she was now sleeping under his roof. It didn’t, though. Instead, she felt a dull ache in the pit of her stomach.
“So what was yesterday? An anomaly?”
He looked away. “Yesterday I caught a man breaking into your home. I was upset for your safety. This,” he said as he waved his cup over the tabloid “is entirely different.”
“How? It’s still an invasion of privacy. And the things they wrote about us...” As though Nico were some kind of fly trapped in her web. She shivered. “Surely you care what people think.”
“I already told you, anyone who knows me will recognize it for the garbage it is.”
“Why is that?” Not that she wasn’t glad, but she wanted to know why he was so certain.
A strange shadow appeared behind his eyes, turning them darker than usual. “Like I said, I’m not the lovesick kind,” he replied. “Now, the fact they referred to me as the ‘royal vintner’? That is something I hope people will believe. You cannot buy better publicity.”
“Glad you’re happy.” One of them should be.
She took a look around the surroundings that were to be her home away from home for the next few days. Worn out and uncomfortable last night, she’d insisted on being shown straight to her room. Nico’s rust-and-green kitchen was warm but dated, like the kitchen of a man who didn’t spend too many meals at home. Did that mean he didn’t entertain much either? Would people notice he had company?
A sudden, horrifying thought struck her. Now that Nico had been identified, the press would start stalking him, too. For all they knew, a telephoto lens could be trained on them right now. Reflexively, she looked over her shoulder at the kitchen window.
“Relax,” Nico told her. “I drew the curtains when we got home last night. No one can see you.”
Sure, they couldn’t see her now. But eventually... “This was a mistake. I’m better off just going to Florence.”
“No one is going anywhere except to the winery.” Nico’s hand reached across the table and grabbed her wrist, preventing her from standing. “Trust me, everything is going to be fine. In a few days, another scandal will erupt and the press will forget all about you.”
Louisa looked down at the bronzed hand gently encircling her arm. His thumb brushing her pulse point, the tiny movement as soothing as a caress. That his slightest touch could calm her was disturbing in itself.
Slipping free, Louisa reached for the newspaper and flipped it back over. The picture on the front page showed the two of them with their heads together in quiet conversation. Arm slung casually over the back of her chair, he was leaning forward as she spoke in his ear, her hand resting lightly on his forearm. She remembered the moment. The orchestra had started playing, and she’d moved closer so she could comment on the song selection. Thanks to the angle, they looked more like a couple who had eyes only for each other.
A second photo greeted her when she turned the page. The two of them dancing. No need to mess with the angle this time. Their gazes were locked; their bodies pressed together like lovers’. Must have been taken only moments before Nico had kissed her.
What if there was a photo of them kissing? Louisa’s stomach dropped. The blogosphere would have a field day. Her horror must have shown on her face, because when she looked up, Nico was watching her. “If they had a photo, they would have used it,” he said, reading her mind.
He was right, Louisa thought, letting out her breath. “The one they used is bad enough. Did we really look like that?” Like they couldn’t get close enough.
“Considering what followed, I would have to say yes.”
That’s what she was afraid of. Louisa dropped her head on her arms with a groan. “It’s only a couple of photographs,” he said, patting the back of her head. “We’ll survive.”
He didn’t understand. Any photograph was one photograph too many. “Believe it or not,” she said, lifting her
head, “there was a time when I liked having my picture taken.” She remembered her first public date with Steven and how the local press surrounded them. She’d felt like someone had dropped her on a Hollywood red carpet. “I thought being featured in the paper was the coolest thing ever.”
Letting out a long breath, she balanced her chin on the back of her hand. “After Steven was arrested, reporters started camping out in cars across the street. They’d call my name each time I left the house, and I would hear the cameras snapping. Click-click-click-click. It never stopped. After a while I stopped going out unless it was to go to court. I had my food delivered. I kept the curtains drawn. I swear Steven had more freedom in prison.” Out of the corner of her eye, she caught Nico’s gaze slide toward his windows and the green linen drapes blocking the view.
“Did you know, I couldn’t even take out my garbage, because they would go through the contents?” she asked. “I had to let it pile up in the basement until after the trial was over.” If she concentrated, she could smell the stench. The horrible sour smell that drifted up the stairs every time she opened the basement door. “I actually dreamt once that the bags overflowed and buried me alive.”
“Bella mia...” He reached for her hand.
Louisa pulled back with a shake of her head. No more comforting touches. “I wasn’t trying to make you feel sorry for me.” Honestly, she didn’t know why she’d told him at all. The memory had simply popped out and it had been the first time she shared the secret with anyone. She supposed it was because the situation was repeating itself again now.
“Well, I promise no garbage here.”
How was it he knew the way to make her smile no matter how aggravated or sad she got? “Well, if there is,” she said, “you’re responsible for taking it out.”
“Agreed.” Nico smiled, and the warmth in his eyes was as reassuring as any embrace. For that moment, anyway, Louisa felt as if everything would be okay.
* * *
Seeing Louisa smile cheered him. It was strange how important seeing her smile was becoming to him. Nico tried to imagine what it must have been like for her during the trial, trapped inside her home while the wolves with their cameras gathered around in wait.
It made him doubly glad that he had lied about the photographs not bothering him. He would never tell Louisa, but seeing the pictures actually bothered him a great deal, although not for the reason she thought. It was his expression in the photographs, a dazed, trancelike appearance that upset him the most. He’d been photographed by the press dozens of times, but never could he remember seeing a shot where he could be seen looking so intently at his partner. Then again, he couldn’t remember ever sharing a dance as memorable as the one he shared with Louisa either. Looking at the photograph had brought every detail back into focus, from the softness of her silk gown to the floral scent of her hairspray as she curled into his neck.
Unfortunately, Louisa’s reaction was far different. Even though he expected her to get upset, he was surprised at the disappointment her response left in his stomach. Clearly, being the one who usually kept the emotional distance, Nico wasn’t used to a woman’s disinterest.
Sensing her attention about to return to the headlines, Nico gathered the newspaper and folded it in two. “No more gossip,” he said, slapping the paper on the countertop. “We move on to better topics. You need to finish your breakfast. Today is a workday. If you’re serious about earning your keep, then we need to get to the winery.”
“Are you always this bossy with your houseguests?” she asked, the smile staying in place.
“Only the Americans,” Nico countered. What would she say if she discovered she was the first woman to be one of his houseguests? Not even Floriana had been given such an honor. Since his parents had moved away, Nico had preferred the house to remain a place of peace and tranquility, something it had never been when he was a child.
And didn’t Louisa, with her damp hair and bare feet, look as if she belonged to the place. The novelty of having company, he decided. Other women would look equally at home, if he ever bothered to invite them.
But would other women engender such a strong desire to protect them? Last night, he’d literally found himself patrolling the house, and again first thing this morning. Frankly, he was surprised he hadn’t stood guard outside Louisa’s bedroom door to keep her safe.
Keep her safe or keep her from leaving? The dread that gripped him when she mentioned going to Florence was no less today than it had been yesterday. He wished he understood why her leaving Monte Calanetti disturbed him so much.
He looked past her shoulder to the back door and the thin dark line scored in the wood just to the left of the doorknob. A reminder of the time his mother had thrown a carving knife at his father’s disappearing back. “Did you sleep well?” he heard himself ask.
“Okay,” she said. “It’s never easy sleeping the first night in a new place and all.”
“Perhaps, after a full day’s work, tonight will be better.” For both of them. Wiping his mouth, he tossed the napkin onto his empty plate and stood up. “Speaking of...we have a busy day. Get your shoes on and I’ll show you what you’ll be doing for me.”
* * *
Beyond the vineyards themselves, Amatucci Vineyards had two primary sections. There was a medieval stone villa that housed the store and wine-tasting rooms as well as a modern production facility. It was to the second building that Nico and Louisa headed, cutting through the rear garden and vines. Something else Louisa had been too stressed out to appreciate yesterday. Unlike the villa, which was stately and ripe with family heirlooms, Nico’s garden was a breathtaking display of natural beauty. The vines draping the pergola beams had minds of their own, their branches dipping and weaving into a unique overhead tapestry. Likewise, urns had been placed around the terracotta terrace, their roses and olive plants spiraling up cedar trellises with stunning wildness.
“I like to be reminded of how rugged the hills can be,” Nico said when she complimented him. Rugged was a good word and fit him perfectly, she thought, dodging a low-hanging branch. Nico was earthy and independent. Civilized, but not completely.
“Most of the employees are in the field at this time of day,” Nico told her as he unlocked the facility door. “I’ll set you up in one of the back offices so you’ll have maximum privacy. I also sent an email to the staff last night reminding them that I expect professionalism and discretion at all times, and that I won’t tolerate gossip.”
“Sounds like you’ve thought of everything.” Swooping in to take control... A tightness found its way into her stomach, which she immediately pushed aside. Not the same thing, she silently snapped. Stop comparing.
The door opened into a small receiving room dominated by filing cabinets and a cluttered metal desk at which a lanky young man too big for his chair sat reading. Behind him a glass window looked out over a warehouse-sized room full of gleaming stainless-steel processing machines.
He practically jumped to his feet when he heard Nico shut the door. “Signor! I was just—just—” Seeing Louisa, he stopped midsentence and simply stared. This morning’s newspaper lay open on the desk, the photo of her and Nico on display.
“Good morning, Mario. I’d like you to meet Louisa Harrison from Palazzo di Comparino. She’s offered to help us fulfill shipping orders so we can get ready for harvest.”
“Hello.”
“Mario is studying viticulture at the university. He wants to learn how to become a great vintner.”
Mario was doing his best to look anywhere but at her. Still, if Nico could breeze in here and act as though there wasn’t a suggestive photo of them lying a foot away, then so could she. Mustering up some fake confidence, she flashed the young man a smile. “Pleasure to meet you, Mario,” she said holding out her hand.
“Um, yes. Likewise,” Mario muttered. Still avoiding her gaze, he hurriedly shook her hand before picking up a stack of paperwork. “I’d better finish getting these field readin
gs recorded into the system,” he said. Clasping the papers to his chest, he rushed out of the office.
“Told you people would have problems with me,” she said once the young man disappeared.
Nico’s mouth was a thin tight line. “I will talk to him. Let him know that kind of behavior is unacceptable.”
“Don’t. It’s not his fault.”
“But of course it is. I won’t have my employees treating you poorly. He needs to know that.”
“Please.” She grabbed his hand as he headed toward the door. “I don’t want to make a scene.” Mario’s behavior was nothing compared to what she’d endured in Boston. What she didn’t want was to feel as though she was under an even bigger spotlight. “Just show me where I’m supposed to sit and let me get to work.”
“You’re going to stay, then? I don’t have to talk you out of leaving?”
“For now.” She was here. She might as well try to tough it out for a little while. After all, there was always the chance Mario was just shy or something, right?
The way Nico’s face brightened helped, too, as did his softly spoken “I’m glad.”
“But, before I bring you to your office,” he added, “I want to show you the facility. You should know your way around the building if I’m not here and you need to find something.”
The office exited into the main plant. Standing on the landing just outside the office door, Louisa was shocked to see the facilities empty.
“Where is everybody?” she asked.
“I always close right before harvest. Gives the employees time with their families and lets me make sure the equipment is in working order. Enjoy the silence while you can. Come next week this building will be so loud you won’t be able to hear yourself think.”
“I bet.” She didn’t have a clue what any of the machines did, but simply given the sheer number of machines she’d expect a lot of noise. “It all looks so modern,” she remarked. “Not quite how I expected wine to be made.”
Harlequin Romance February 2016 Box Set Page 6