“And you...”
“I’m a woman. I’m programmed to think babies are adorable. You, on the other hand, are a guy. Until babies actually do something, you don’t see the point.
“Look,” she said. Grasping his face between her hands, she forced him to look her in the eye to make sure he heard what she was saying. “Just because a person seems perfect doesn’t mean they are. Believe me, I know. You’re going to make a wonderful godfather. The very fact you’re worrying about doing a good job shows how much you care.
“Besides,” she added, “I refuse to do this godmother thing without a good partner. Last time I looked, we made a pretty good team.”
The worry faded from around his eyes. Giving her a grateful smile, Nico rested his forehead against hers. His hands came up to cup her face. “Thank you, bella mia,” he said, the whisper caressing her lips. Louisa closed her eyes and let the sensation wash over her.
They sat entwined like that for several minutes, neither in a rush to break the moment. As far as she was concerned, she could sit there all afternoon. She didn’t even care if there were paparazzi watching.
CHAPTER TEN
THE NEXT DAY, a cold front invaded the valley and everyone feared the harvest festival would be threatened by rain. “The tourists will still come,” Nico had said as they gathered to finish the float. “We’ve never failed to attract a crowd, rain or shine.”
“But sun brings a better crowd,” Marianna had been quick to point out, “and this is the one year when we can count on the crowd being especially large.”
Turned out Nico’s sister needn’t have worried. The morning of the festival, Louisa woke to see the sun brightening a cloudless blue sky.
“Luck is on our side,” Nico had remarked over coffee before adding, “Perfect day for playing festival queen.”
“Nice try,” she’d answered, “but no.” With the headlines diminishing daily, why court trouble?
Nevertheless, she agreed to accompany him to the parade’s staging ground to give their float a proper send-off. While he was in the shower, she snuck over to the palazzo and got out a tiered skirt and peasant blouse from her closet. A peace offering. She might not be queen, but she could dress in the spirit of the occasion.
The thought didn’t occur to her until she was ducking through the archway leading to Nico’s villa, that if she was comfortable enough crossing the fields alone, she could move back home.
Tomorrow.
For so many years her thoughts had revolved around escaping—escaping Steven, escaping Boston, escaping the paparazzi—and suddenly here she was focused on staying.
Something had shifted between her and Nico that day at the fountain. There was a depth to their friendship she hadn’t felt before. An openness brought about by shared fears. Whereas before there had been attraction, she felt pulled by an attraction of a different sort. Didn’t make sense, she knew. But there it was.
“Wow,” Nico said when stepped back into the kitchen. “Like a proper Tuscan peasant.”
Appreciation lit his eyes, turning her insides warm. She hadn’t done all that much. “Thank you. I figured when in Rome, or in this case Tuscany...”
“You look just like a proper Tuscan gypsy.” And he, a proper Tuscan vintner in his jeans and loose white shirt. Louisa had never seen him look more appealing. He offered his hand. “Shall we?”
The festival itself was to be held in the plaza. Last night Nico and several of his employees had gone into town to set up a quintet of large half barrels around the fountain, and so she assumed that was where they were heading for the parade, as well. To her surprise, however, he turned his truck toward Comparino. “We start at the palazzo,” he told her, “and head into town, recreating the route the farmers took back when the mezzadria system was in place. That’s when the sharecroppers would present the landowners with their share of the harvest. Back then the Bertonellis would have used the grapes to make wine. Today we use a lesser quality crop and put the fruit in the vats for stomping.”
“I can’t believe people still stomp grapes.” Louisa thought the tradition was reserved only for movies and old sitcoms.
“Tourists come from all over the world to see Old World traditions. The least we can do is provide them.”
She bet Nico loved every minute of them, too, lover of tradition that he was. In fact, there was a special kind of glow about him this morning. He looked brighter, more alive. His body hummed with energy, too, more so than usual. Standing by his side, she found it impossible not to let it wash over her, as well.
They turned a corner and drove into a field that had become a makeshift parade ground. In addition to the floats, Louisa spied dozens of townspeople dressed in costume. There were women wearing woolen folk dresses and large straw hats and men dressed as peasant farmers. She spotted musicians and what she guessed were dancers, as well.
“Later on, they’ll demonstrate the trescone,” Nico said. “Everyone present is invited to join in.”
And here she thought the festival was just an excuse to eat and drink.
“Can I ask you a question?” she asked once Nico had parked the truck. “Why is tradition so important to you?” She suspected she already knew the answer, but wanted to hear it from him.
“I don’t know,” he replied. “I suppose it is because tradition helps define who we are and what we do. There’s a sacred quality to knowing that you’re walking in the footsteps of generations that came before you. Time has passed, but the traditions, the core of who we are, doesn’t change.”
In other words, he loved the consistency. For a man whose entire life had been fraught with chaos, tradition—like Carlos’s vineyard—never let him down. No wonder he’d been so adamant that she lead the parade.
And yet, he was willing to let go of tradition to make her feel more comfortable. Once again, he was rushing to her rescue.
Maybe it was time she returned the favor. “I’ll do it,” she said.
“Do what?”
“I’ll lead the parade.”
If everything else went wrong today, the way Nico’s eyes lit up would be reason enough for her answer. “Are you sure?” he asked her.
“Absolutely.” What were a few miles, right? She could do it. “But only if you’ll walk with me.”
“Are you asking if I’ll be your king?”
Dear Lord, the way he said the sentence... Her insides grew warm. “Don’t be literal,” she said, trying to hide her reaction by making light of the comment. “More like a royal companion who’s there to help me when I screw up.”
Damn if the way he brushed a tendril of hair off her cheek before speaking didn’t turn her inside out. “It would be my pleasure, bella mia.”
* * *
Royal companion wasn’t the right term at all. Nico was a king. Smiling brightly and waving to the crowds, he belonged at the front of the parade far more than Louisa did. The town loved him.
Or maybe Monte Calanetti was just full of love today. The streets were lined with revelers who laughed and cheered them along as they wound their way slowly down the cobblestone streets. Behind them, the costumed men carried baskets of grapes while the women tossed bags of sugared nuts they had stored in the pockets of their aprons. If photographers were there, they were hidden by the throngs of tourists who, it was clear, were only interested in enjoying the day.
“Signorina! Signorina!” A little girl wearing a dress the colors of Italy, ran into the street carrying a crown made from ribbons and roses. “Per voi la Signorina Harrison,” she said, holding it in her hands. “Una corona per la regina.”
Louisa beamed her. A crown? For her? “Grazie,” she said, placing the flowers on her head. The wreath was too big and slid down to her ears, but Louisa didn’t care. She grinned and flicked the ribbons over her shoulder.
There were more children. More flowers presented. Too many for Louisa to carry, so she began giving them to the women behind her, running from the front of the parade to the re
ar and back again. It became a game between her and the children, to see how fast she could run the gamut before another flower appeared. By the time they reached the fountain, she was laughing and gasping for breath.
“Told you the town wouldn’t care,” Nico whispered in her ear. She turned to discover his eyes glittered with laughter, too. “This is amazing,” she told him.
“You are having fun, then?”
Was he joking? What she was feeling at this moment was so much more than amusement. She felt free. All those years of being the outsider were but bad memories. She’d found a place where she’d belonged. A home.
To think, if Nico hadn’t gone to the palazzo the day the headlines broke—if he hadn’t insisted she stay—she might still be looking.
What would she have done without him?
“I’m having a wonderful time,” she said. She moved to throw her arms around him in a hug only to be thwarted by the enveloping crowd. Having emptied their baskets into three oversize half barrels, the marchers stood clapping rhythmically. “They’re waiting for you,” Nico told her. “The queen is the first to stomp the grapes.”
As though they’d been waiting, two of the men wearing medieval costumes appeared at her elbows and began guiding her forward. “Wait, wait,” she said, laughing. “I still have my shoes on.”
“Just kick them off,” a familiar voice hollered. Looking left, she saw Dani waving from a few feet away. “I’ll grab them for you,” her friend said.
She made her way to the front barrel that, despite its size, was overflowing with large bunches of purple grapes.
“I’m not doing this without my royal companion,” she said, looking over her shoulder.
Evidently the crowd thought this a wonderful idea, because a second later, Nico was pushed into the circle. As he stepped closer, his laugh faded to a mischievous gleam. “Now you’ve asked for it, bella mia.”
Grabbing her by the waist, he lifted her in the air and plopped her feetfirst into the barrel.
Louisa shrieked as the grapes squished between her toes. “It’s cold!”
“You expected a warm bath?” he asked with a laugh. Stepping into the barrel with her, he took her by the hands. “Be careful, it’s slippery.”
No kidding. The crushed grapes and skin quickly stuck to the bottom of the container, creating a layer of slickness. Twice already, she would have lost her balance if Nico hadn’t been holding her up. Still, as cold and slippery as the grapes were, it was fun marching in place. Particularly with Nico’s hands sending warmth up her arms.
A few minutes later, the rest of the crowd joined them, kicking off their shoes and crowding into the vats. Laughter abounded as everyone was eager to take their turn mashing the grapes to a pulp.
“I can’t believe this is how people used to make wine,” she said to him over the noise. “They must have had incredibly muscular thighs.”
“Not really.” Nico had leaned in to speak. His breath floated over her collarbone leaving goose bumps. “Italian winemakers have used presses to crush grapes since the middle ages. This is just for the tourists.”
“You mean there is no Old World tradition?”
“Not that I know of.”
“I’m up to my ankles in pulverized grapes because of a gimmick? You—”
He laughed and she gave his shoulder a shove, only to have her feet slide out from beneath her.
“Careful!” Nico scooped her up into his arms just as she was about to fall bottom first into the mashed fruit. “We wouldn’t want you to be trampled,” he said, smiling down at her.
No danger of that now. With her arms wrapped around his neck, and his arms holding her tight, Louisa had never felt safer. “I’m not worried,” she said. “You’d rescue me.”
His smile faded. “Always.”
Louisa’s breath caught at the seriousness in his voice. Just as it had at the royal wedding, the world receded, leaving only the two of them and the sound of their breathing. Nico’s eyes grew heavy lidded, his attention focused on Louisa’s mouth. Slowly she ran a tongue over her lower lip, an action for which she was rewarded with the tightening of his hand on her waist. “Louisa...” His voice was rough and raw.
He wanted her. But he was holding back to let her make the first move. That she held the power was all Louisa needed to reach a decision.
She pulled his head down to meet hers...
Dear Lord, how on earth could she have gone so long without kissing him? Nico might have given her the power to decide, but once their mouths joined, he took control, kissing her so deeply Louisa couldn’t tell where she ended and he began. She didn’t care. She was too swept away by the moment.
It was the cheer rising from the crowd that finally broke the moment. “I think the crowd approves,” Nico said, rubbing his nose against hers.
Heat rushed to Louisa’s cheeks. Let the crowd cheer, she decided. She held his gaze and wondered if her eyes looked as blown and glazed over as his.
“Why don’t we go someplace more private?” he said. Without giving her a chance to answer, he carried her out of the barrel and through the crowd.
* * *
Nico pressed a kiss to the head resting on his shoulder. Louisa and he were in his garden, ensconced on a lounger beneath the pergola. Insects could be heard buzzing in the foliage above, their soft droning working with the wine to make him comfortable and drowsy. An interesting sensation, since only an hour before he’d been consumed with lust. Once alone, the urgency had receded. The best wines were made with patience. So it was with lovemaking, as well. They had all night. Why rush when you could draw out the pleasure?
Besides, strange as it seemed, being close to Louisa like this was pleasure itself.
“What was she like?”
Her question came out of nowhere. “Who?” he asked, fingers playing with the tendrils of her hair.
“Your fiancée.”
“Floriana? Why do you ask? Are you jealous?” That she might be gave him a jolt of satisfaction.
“I’m curious. What made her so perfect?”
He thought back. “I told you, she liked the same things I liked, she had the same sense of humor. Plus we wanted the same things out of life.”
“Which were?”
“To create wine and live a life free of drama.”
“I take it you never threw a reporter off her balcony.”
“She didn’t own a balcony,”
“You know what I mean.”
“Yes, I do.” Floriana would never need to take refuge in his winery to avoid scandal. Rational to a fault, she would never have fallen for a man like Steven in the first place. On the other hand, she also never ignited a fire in the pit of his stomach the way Louisa did. Standing in those grapes, with that silly floral crown falling about her ears and her clothes wrinkled and damp from the heat, Louisa had been the most gorgeous thing he’d ever seen.
“She sounds like someone Steven would have liked. Whenever I found an interest Steven didn’t like, he would find a way to suck the fun out of it.”
“I don’t understand.” The American colloquialism threw him, although he could wager a guess.
“Well...” She shifted so she could prop herself up on one elbow. “He would either get condescending and make me feel like it was silly, or he’d suggest it wasn’t the kind of thing ‘Mrs. Steven Clark’ should be doing.”
The man was a bully. Nico was glad they’d put him in prison. Her ex deserved to be locked up in a cell as lonely and sad as he’d made his wife.
“He didn’t deserve you. You know that.”
“When we met, I thought I didn’t deserve him.”
A most foolish notion. If anything Steven Clark must have known from the start that he’d discovered a treasure and that was why he’d insisted on wrapping her up so tightly.
“What’s sad is how I was so impressed by something that wasn’t real. I mean, all his power and breeding. Turned out he wasn’t any better than me.”
&nb
sp; “You were the better one,” Nico said. “To begin with, you weren’t a thief.”
Louisa smiled. “Thanks, but I meant background-wise. He was just some guy from the Midwest. His fancy family history was as phony as his investment scheme. When I contacted the feds, the whole house of cards came tumbling down. The only truly real thing that survived was the palazzo.” She nestled back against the curve of his neck, her hand coming up to play with the edge of his shirt collar.
“Thank God, I never told him about the place or it would be gone, too.”
Prison was too good for him. “The bastard is lucky he wasn’t the one on your balcony,” he muttered.
“Might have been interesting if he was. I think I’d have liked to see you throw him over.”
“Satisfying, too,” Nico said. Propping himself on an elbow, he smiled down at her face. “What is it about you that incites me to violence?”
“I don’t know.”
Neither did he, and he’d been looking for the answer for the past few weeks. All he knew was that the idea of Louisa hurting made him see red. He wanted to punish Steven and the others for making her life so hard.
Come to think of it, Louisa made him feel a lot of strong emotions. He didn’t just want to kiss her, he wanted to kiss her senseless. And he didn’t want to enjoy her company, he wanted to spend every moment he could spare with her.
Where on earth did these feelings come from? He’d never behaved this way around Floriana. Or anyone else for that matter.
Could it be that this—Louisa—was what he’d been missing all these years?
He turned on his side until they lay face-to-face. All it took was one look into her blue eyes and his pulse started racing again. “Thank you,” she whispered.
“You don’t have to thank me for anything.”
“But I do. Did you know,” she asked as he freed a stray petal from her hair, “that this past week was the first time in years that I’ve felt like I truly belonged.”
Harlequin Romance February 2016 Box Set Page 13