THERE WERE FOUR other couples standing around one of 16 Oaks’ three tasting stations waiting for their next pour. Each station had good-sized groups. Lucia wasn’t surprised the wineries were busy. It was a gorgeous day, sunny and fair, and driving around northern Virginia’s low rolling hills from winery to winery, past horse farms and well-manicured vineyards, was a pleasant way to while away a picturesque Saturday.
Bonavera’s would be just as busy, especially since they included food pairings with their tastings. Not all the wineries did, but Marcella insisted on it. She was a firm believer wine and food brought out the best qualities in each other, and given Caterina’s unique food samples and Eliana’s gift for talking up the guests, Bonavera always received great tasting reviews.
Antonio reached past her for the water pitcher and poured some into two of the small plastic rinsing cups. “I’m glad you were able to join me,” he said, sliding one of the cups toward her. “I had no idea there were so many wineries here. I wouldn’t have known which ones would be best to visit on my own.”
“I’m glad you asked.” Lucia glanced up at him and smiled. “And I’m happy to be your tour guide for a day.”
They were currently at stop number two of the four. The wine community was close knit, so she knew most of the people in the industry and a lot of their staff; as a result, pours had been on the generous side and she was beginning to get a slight buzz.
Lucia took a sip of water to clear her palate. They’d already finished with the whites and were working their way through the reds. Thus far, they had sampled a very nice Cabernet Sauvignon and Merlot. The next selection was a Cabernet Franc.
When they were given their last pour, she swirled her glass to release the wine’s aroma and then lifted it to her nose and sniffed. She could scent hints of cherry and chocolate and knew before tasting it she would like it.
She took a sip, swished it around in her mouth, held it there a moment before swallowing, and then angled her head toward Antonio’s. “What do you say we grab some lunch when we leave here and hit the last two wineries after we get some food in our bellies?”
“That’s probably a good idea. Are you feeling all right?”
“I’m okay for now, but I think I need to counteract the alcohol with some food before doing another tasting. We can go to Twining Vines. My friend Jenna’s the manager. She’s on vacation this week so she won’t be there, but I know all the staff so they’ll take good care of us, and the food’s good. I think you’ll like it, and it just happens to be on the way to the next winery. “
Antonio reached out and tucked a strand of her hair behind her ear. Their eyes met and he held her gaze. Lucia found it impossible to look away. What was he thinking as he held her trapped in the space between this breath and her next? She longed to take his hand, touch his face, connect with him in a more meaningful way, and the desire to do so was almost painful—painful because it would go unfulfilled. A simple touch, but so intimate, too much a show of affection, a show of the heart—more so than a kiss of passion—and there was risk in that. As much as she liked him, opening her heart too much would be foolish considering their circumstances.
Antonio gave her a quick, almost tight, smile, and then picked up his glass and downed the rest of the cab franc.
ANTONIO HADN’T ANTICIPATED enjoying this area of the country so much. Not that he’d done a lot of research on it since the only reason he’d added it to his itinerary was to placate his grandfather in the hope of getting him to see reason. He’d only planned two days, enough time to honor his promise and be on his way, but he’d been here a week already and it had sped by.
He studied the woman sitting across from him as she studied her menu. She was part of the reason—a big part—he couldn’t deny it. And that was an even bigger surprise. He’d never admit it to his grandfather, had in fact denied it when they’d spoken on the phone that morning. The old man would have latched onto it like a leech and started in on him all over again with the destiny nonsense. His desire to spend a little more time with Lucia before moving on had nothing to do with destiny; he was just enjoying her company, and as he had no time commitments, didn’t feel compelled to cut it short. Why should he?
She put her menu down, caught him watching her, and smiled.
“What are you thinking of ordering?” She smoothed her napkin over her lap. The sun filtering through the wisteria-covered pergola picked up the highlights in her rich, chestnut hair. She wore a pair of large sunglasses with black frames and dark lenses so he couldn’t see her eyes. But he didn’t need to—they were imprinted on his memory.
“Can I have you?”
She laughed. He loved the sound of it, silk velvet, deep. It seduced him, as everything about her did.
“I’m not on the carte du jour, but the bluefish appetizer here is excellent.”
He clucked his tongue. “I guess I’ll go with that since my first choice isn’t available.”
She pushed the glasses up onto the top of her head, holding her hair back away from her face, and gave him a sidelong glance, humor dancing in her eyes. “At least not for lunch.”
He wiggled his eyebrows and leaned in toward the table. “A late-night snack then, perhaps?”
“Perhaps, for both of us, and I can’t believe I just said that.” She picked up her fork and waved it at him. “You’re a bad influence on me.”
“I’m trying to be.”
They continued that way for a couple of minutes, the way flirtations do, each enjoying it but keeping it light. They both knew nothing would really come of it—nothing more than a few heated kisses. As much as he might want to make love to her, she’d made it clear she wasn’t interested in a brief affair, so that would have to be enough.
When their food came, they ate slowly. Sitting outside on the restaurant’s wide patio, under a flowering arbor, they were in no rush to hurry through their meal. The day was too lovely, the food meant for savoring, and each was content to share the other’s company.
Lucia picked up one of the pita crisps that came with her meal, spread a bit of bluefish and some horseradish cream on it. “So this morning, when I ran into you and El in the lobby, what was that all about?”
“What do you mean?”
“Ghost talk. I didn’t have time to find out then because I was already running late, but when I asked what I’d need convincing about on my way out, she mentioned something about ghosts.”
“She said you didn’t believe in them.”
“Of course I don’t.” She added a few pieces of slivered red onion to the crisp and then took a bite, chewed it as she looked at him. She swallowed and then cocked her head and said, “Don’t tell me you do.”
“Why not?”
“Because there’s no such thing.”
“How do you know?”
“Because. I’ve never seen any proof they exist, and unlike Eliana and Marcella, a drafty room, or the wind catching a door and blowing it open or shut aren’t enough to convince me they do.”
“Have you any proof they don’t exist?”
She stared at him and he could tell by her expression that his own belief in the possibility surprised her.
“Antonio. Come on. Do you seriously believe there might be ghosts in our midst?”
“I don’t disbelieve, and if there are, their existence would explain a lot of the unexplainable stuff most of us brush off as our imagination playing tricks on us…or coincidence. What happened in my room this morning is an example.”
She reached for her water glass and regarded him. “Something happened?”
Wine is bottled poetry.
Robert Louis Stevenson
The following week saw everyone scattered in different directions. Most of the inn’s rooms were booked, people checking in on the front end, some the back, and some for the entire week.
Antonio had barely seen any of the Bonaveras that one of them wasn’t rushing here or there or off somewhere. Lucia had spent the majority of
her time making sure guests enjoyed their stay—attending to them in one way or another, straightening up one of the common areas, helping Caterina with the inn’s continental breakfast, or setting up afternoon cookies or biscuits, lemonade and tea. Almost every time he caught a glimpse of her she was fussing in one way or another to ensure everything met her high standards.
He’d hoped to get some time with her, to himself…selfish, but there it was. He understood, of course. She had her responsibilities, and he was…well…he didn’t know what he was, what they were. Friends, he supposed. He did like her, a lot, but then there was the other. The burning attraction, purely physical, that found him lying awake several nights that week lusting for the feel of her body wrapped around his, the unquenchable desire to tap into the passion he knew flamed in her blood as hot as it did in his. She wouldn’t be letting him into her bed, though, when there was almost no chance they’d see each other again after he’d gone.
Antonio frowned. He understood that as well, regardless of whether he liked it or not. He tapped his pencil against the drawings he’d been trying to finalize. Lucia had told him he could work at the large table in the library rather than the confines of his room, and he’d taken her up on it. It was easier to spread out his work there, and there was complimentary coffee just a few steps away. There was also the possibility he might see a little more of her if he worked downstairs than he had so far that week.
Tomorrow evening he’d be meeting with the four sisters again to share his ideas for their project. It was the only time they all had available to get together for more than fifteen or twenty minutes.
The drawings were taking longer than he thought they would…or should. His original intention had been to do a few rough sketches, throw in an original feature or two that would take advantage of the site, but they’d morphed into a lot more.
Their project was the kind most architects salivated over, and he was no exception. A lot of what he worked on was remodels and additions. He enjoyed the work but it could be limiting when you had to stay within the constraints of an existing structure. Yes, it was satisfying taking something ordinary and transforming it into something the client didn’t think could be done. But to be able to design from the ground up without any limitations was always more exciting to him.
To see your vision come to life with each new phase, every board and nail, each peak and angle, the unique personality of your design as it revealed itself layer upon layer…that. That was the kind of project you dreamed would fall into your lap.
When it did, you clung to it, embraced it, celebrated it. You didn’t walk away from it. Yet that’s exactly what he’d be doing. Someone else would take his ideas, use some, discard some, incorporate them with his or her own…or throw them out entirely and work with Lucia and Cat to make their own vision a reality.
Someone else would be invited to the Grand Opening party when it was all done and be congratulated by the attending guests for creating such a jewel. Lucia would be handing him a glass of champagne, toasting him with everyone else, and perhaps leaning in to give him a kiss of gratitude for making her dreams come true.
Antonio pushed away from the table and stood up. He walked over to one of the windows and stared outside. There were several cars parked in the gravel lot off to the side of the main building. Another one pulled in as he watched and two couples got out and crossed over to the path that led to the front porch, probably coming to do a tasting.
Eliana had been busy doing tours and tastings all week. He’d even gone to one yesterday afternoon when she’d seen him working in the library as she was leading a group into the solarium, and invited him to join them. It had been an enjoyable break. Lucia’s sister had a way with people, engaged them easily with her quick wit and outgoing personality. He’d been impressed with how deftly she’d drawn everyone out and made the tasting more fun as opposed to just pouring samples and describing the wine.
He reached up and rubbed the back of his neck, stretched it from side to side to work out the kink that had developed from leaning over his work. Why the hell was he putting so much into these drawings? It didn’t matter how inspired his design might be, when whoever they hired would no doubt toss it and come up with one of their own to impress Lucia.
Was that it? Was that what he was feeling so frustrated about? If so, he’d better get over it. In the end, he wouldn’t have any say over the final design. And he wouldn’t have any say about how Lucia might decide to show her gratitude to whoever the lucky bastard was who did.
He went back to the desk and gathered his things. He needed to get out for a few hours and clear his head. Forget about the drawings. Forget about the project. Forget about the woman who’d gotten under his skin in a way he’d never imagined would happen.
“OKAY, I HAVE you scheduled to arrive on Monday of next week and checking out on Thursday morning. We look forward to seeing you then, Mr. Connelly, and thank you.” Lucia hung up the phone just as the front door opened and Antonio walked inside.
“Hey there,” she said, happy to see him after merely crossing paths with him most of the week, and walked out from behind the reception desk.
It had been an especially busy day, but most of the guests had gone out for the evening, off to get dinner at one of the area restaurants. After the last few days, she could think of nothing more pleasant than a quiet evening enjoying some down time—unless the evening included Antonio enjoying it with her. Yes, that would make it significantly more pleasant.
“Are you going out to eat this evening or will you be staying in?” she asked, hoping he hadn’t already made plans.
“I’ll probably run out to get something in about an hour. Or, since I was out most of the afternoon, I may pick something up, bring it back to my room, and spend the evening watching the television or reading. Why do you ask?”
“Most of the other guests are out and about, so it should be a quiet night around here. I’m thinking of opening a bottle of wine and seeing what I can forage from the kitchen. Would you be interested in joining me?”
“Yes.”
“I like your decisiveness.”
He sent her a sexy glance that made her want to groan. Good Lord but the man was dangerous to her libido! Did he have any idea what kind of effect he had on women when he gave them one of those looks?
“Well…” He raised his hand and held up an index finger. “I could spend the evening alone in my room eating lo mien out of a paper carton, or…” He raised a second finger. “I could spend it going on a scavenger hunt for my dinner, and then follow that up with a bottle of wine and a bit of lively conversation with a beautiful woman.” He dropped his hand, a smile playing with his lips, teasing her. “It’s not a difficult choice.”
She grinned, impossible not to. He was flirtatious and charming, all in a good way, lighthearted and lacking the ulterior motives of some men who might use sweet words for the sole purpose of breaking down a woman’s resistance. It was just a part of who he was, a natural, but playful, romantic side he wasn’t afraid to show, and she liked that about him.
“You are so good for my ego, choosing me and potluck over Chinese take-out.” She poked him in the chest. “I am really going to miss you when you leave here, mister.”
He stared at her a moment, a look in his eyes that made her wonder what might have been if their circumstances were different: if they didn’t live five thousand miles apart; if they didn’t both have jobs, responsibilities, commitments; if they weren’t both tied to something larger than the last ten days and this crazy, unexplainable, and unfortunately, to remain mostly platonic attraction. If she knew he was a more permanent fixture, would she be willing to take a chance on love again and risk a more intimate relationship with him?
“Okay, so…” He reached up, pushed a hand through his hair. “Do you want me to meet you back down here in the lobby in…what?”
“How about an hour?”
Antonio agreed and then left without saying anything
else. Kind of abrupt, she thought, even odd given they’d been enjoying a pleasant bantering back and forth right up until then.
Lucia shook it off. Maybe he had to go to the bathroom. She couldn’t think of why else he would have just bolted that way and left her standing in the middle of the lobby.
“FORAGING FOR FOOD is a lot easier in a chef’s kitchen than the one in my apartment back home,” Antonio told Lucia a short while later as they enjoyed the spoils of their hunt.
The evening was warm enough that Lucia thought it would be nice to eat on the stone terrace off of the solarium. She had covered one of the outdoor tables with a crisp white tablecloth and then added one of the vases of fresh roses and hydrangea blossoms from the library’s mantle, as well as several white pillar candles in varying sizes.
The soft, flickering light, temperate weather, and a chorus of crickets serenading in the background combined to heighten the magic Lucia had always thought seemed intrinsic to the night. They would definitely have to include an outdoor dining area for the new restaurant where their guests could choose to eat alfresco when conditions allowed.
“Oh! I didn’t get a chance to tell you; we put a bid on that property yesterday morning and Cat got a call back in the afternoon. The sellers accepted our offer.”
“That’s great. Congratulations.” Antonio picked up his wine glass and raised it toward her in a toast. “To your success, may it become everything you hope it will be.”
Lucia tapped the rim of her glass to his. “Thank you.” She took a sip before going on. “I thought we had a good shot since it’s been on the market so long, but I didn’t want to get too excited until we had a deal. Now that we do I can’t wait to see your ideas.”
Antonio nodded and then looked down at his wine, turning his glass and staring at it as if it held a secret he wanted to discover. “I hope you find something in them you can use,” he finally said, and then ran his tongue along the inside of his cheek.
Lucia (The Bonaveras) Page 9