“It’s from Monaforte’s crown jewel collection,” Luca said. “I consulted with my mother before choosing it, but it belonged to the only other blond member of the royal family, a very distant great-great-great-grandmother or something. Mum thought it would be fitting for Larkin to have this ring.”
“It’s stunning, Larks,” Taylor said, holding her hands up to her face in surprise. “I’m just so overwhelmed about this! But I want to know all the details!”
“So we’d just spent a few days in Venice,” she said. “On the last evening, before a breathtaking sunset on the Grand Canal in front of the Piazza San Marco, we were being serenaded by our gondolier when Luca got down on one knee and asked for my hand!”
“I can’t even believe it,” Taylor said. “Fairy-tale perfect. Wow. I’m so glad there are still romantic men in the world. I was starting to think they all died in the Pleistocene era.”
Luca laughed, scrubbing his hands in his hair. “Were there humans back then? Or were we still mollusks?”
Taylor rolled her eyes. “I think humans were just getting started then. Nothing personal, but men are still mollusks if you ask me.”
He gave her two thumbs-up. “Thanks for that vote of confidence.”
“Aww, poor Taylor has plenty of reason to be sour on men,” Larkin said, squeezing her friend’s hand. “What’s it been, like five guys in a row who ended up only wanting to be with you because you’re a model? And when they found out you actually did things with your life other than look beautiful and decorate their arms, they walked away? I think the problem is you’ve got to find the right man and not the troglodytes you’ve been dating.”
“Yeah, no more men who want to drag me by the hair back to the cave so I can prepare a fat brontosaurus steak for him.”
“I don’t know about you, but all this talk of prehistory is making me hungry,” Luca said, rubbing his stomach. “In fact, a good, bloody Florentine steak sounds awesome.”
“I’m with you,” Taylor said. “I had just enough champagne on the plane to remind me I haven’t eaten since my measly croissant at breakfast.”
“Perfect,” Larkin said. “We’ve got reservations for dinner in Florence, and we’ll drive down to Sandro’s afterward.”
Taylor scrunched her nose. “Speaking of troglodytes. I know you guys want to fix me up with him, but really, I am so not interested.”
“Oh stop,” Larkin said, waving her hand dismissively. “He’s a really sweet guy once you get to know him. I thought he was a jerk at first too, but honestly, I think you’ll like him.”
“Wow. There’s a ringing endorsement,” Taylor said, arching her brow. “At any rate, you’re sure it’s okay with my tagging along? I mean I’m happy to come to this big fête, but I don’t want to be an imposition.”
“First off, you, my dear, would never be an imposition,” Luca said. “Secondly, my cousin Alessandro won’t even know you’re there, the place is that big. It’s a palace, literally. A gigantic Renaissance palazzo. It could be days until he knows if any of us are there. Plus I’m sure he’s going to be at the new building overseeing the finishing touches. So no worries.”
Taylor shrugged. “Okay, if you’re sure. I’d just hate to have the man be mad that I’m invading his space.”
Luca shook his head. “Not at all. Besides, he’s always had a thing for models.”
Taylor shook her head. Yet one more reason she would have exactly nothing to do with him.
Chapter Three
It was well after midnight when Sandro heard the crunch of tires on the pebbled driveway. That was the thing about living in the rural countryside: you inevitably picked up the slightest sounds late at night, so not much got past Sandro. It’s why he still kicked himself that he hadn’t heard Crazy Gia barreling up the driveway when she came to destroy his beloved car.
Ahhh... Gia... The only good thing about what happened with her was finally casting the woman from his life once and for all. That at least afforded him the chance to focus on important things, like overseeing the many finishing touches on his baby, his labor of love; the time was finally upon him to share it with the world, so it was essential he not be distracted with her nonsense.
The bad news of course was his car was a total loss. As was their relationship, though victory was perhaps a more appropriate description of the fallout: he was more than happy to have a restraining order taken out against the woman, which meant finally he could be done with her hotheaded reprisals, most of which were rooted in her own fantasy world of unfounded mistrust. The security guards had changed the passcode on the entrance gate to the palazzo, and unless Gia wanted to trek through the dense woods in the steep Chianti hillside surrounding his property to try to get back at him again, she was out of luck. Hopefully she’d move on to haunt some other poor sucker. And now, with his lesson well learned, Sandro had called it quits on women for a while; they weren’t worth the hassle, and he had the stiletto scar and the charred vehicle to prove it.
As the tires on gravel came to a stop, he heard the chatter of voices out front and then car doors slamming and knew it had to be Luca and company, so he shut down his computer at his desk, closed off the lights in his office, and hastened down the hall to greet his houseguests. The staff was off at this hour, and the rest of the household had long since retreated to bed; each of his brothers occupied a wing of the palazzo. They had complete autonomy and could choose whether to be together or on their own throughout the course of the day. Each of them took on different duties in the running of the company, so there was little stepping on toes since they all enjoyed complete independence over day-to-day issues.
Sandro stepped onto the open-air loggia at the front of the house just as his guests arrived.
“Ciao, Luca,” he said, reaching his arms out and embracing his friend as he kissed his cheeks and asked how he was doing. “Come va?”
“Benissimo, grazie,” Luca said. “I’m great, thank you. And you remember Larkin?” He extended his arm toward her.
“Of course,” Sandro said. “The most beautiful Larkin, looking stellar as usual.” They exchanged a two-cheek kiss.
“And this is Larkin’s good friend Taylor,” Luca said. “Taylor, I’d like you to meet my cousin Alessandro.”
“Piacere,” Taylor said, telling him she was pleased to meet him. “Thank you so much for your hospitality.”
Sandro extended his hand to shake hers just as she reached out to kiss his cheeks, and what resulted was a completely awkward greeting that left her blushing and him wondering what it was with American women that they couldn’t read up on protocol when in a different country.
Luca and Larkin laughed to offset the awkwardness of the moment, but they then all stood in silence for a moment.
Taylor broke the uncomfortable quiet by reaching for a gift she’d forgotten to hand to him when they were introduced. “I was just in France, and well, when in Paris...”
Sandro untied the large silver bow and pulled a bottle of Bordeaux from the package. He looked at the bottle for a minute, not sure if it was a serious gift or a joke of some sort. Because who would bring a gift of wine to a man who oversaw one of Tuscany’s premier wine empires? No doubt it was a perfectly fine bottle of wine, but still... It wasn’t anywhere near as good as his own, of that he felt certain.
“Ahhh. Vino. Grazie mille,” he said, staring at the label. “I’m sure we’ll enjoy this.” He cocked his brow, and Luca threw him the side eye.
“I’m sure Taylor thought a wine connoisseur such as yourself always likes to sample the competition.”
“But of course,” Sandro said, rubbing his beard as a distraction. He was a little tripped up with the arrival of Larkin’s friend because it was as if a strong wind had momentarily blown away his bad feelings toward the fairer sex, ushering in a gentle and soothing sea breeze; she was that breathtakingly beautiful. She was tall, with endless legs he couldn’t stop staring at, and soft, wavy blond hair. Her eyes were the shade of
azure you might encounter along the shores of the Amalfi Coast—the type of water that lures you against your better judgment to take just a tiny dip. She was like no woman he’d ever encountered before. Yet he knew even then the chances of the water being an agreeable temperature were not so great, and beneath the surface, who knew what dangerous creatures loomed? His gut reminded him he was far wiser to avoid the potential risk to life and limb. Worse yet take a chance of diving into too-shallow water and breaking his neck.
Beauty was no longer going to be that demanding football coach that would bark commands at his subservient cock. No way. Beauty had gotten him into deep trouble with Crazy Gia, so he was going to hang up his figurative cleats, which meant ignoring the siren call of a gorgeous woman for his own sanity, not to mention the sake of his replacement car.
“So,” Luca said, rubbing his hands together as Taylor strolled along the loggia, inspecting the ancient statues that graced the terrace-like area. “We had a great meal in Firenze, just me and my fiancée and her best friend.” His face broke into a large grin as Larkin held up her left hand, wiggling her ring finger so that Sandro would notice.
His cousin knit his brow. “Surely I didn’t hear what I thought I just heard.”
Luca nodded. “It’s true, my friend. Your cousin has fallen hard. Looks like it’s your turn next.”
Sandro held his hands up in false surrender. “Are you completely pazzo? You must be crazy to think I would ever fall prey to such a disease.”
Larkin frowned. “Wait a minute. I’m not sure if I should be insulted by that comment.”
“I think the polite thing to do would be to extend your heartfelt congratulations and then keep your mouth shut,” Taylor said, throwing Sandro some shade as she stood up for her friend.
Sandro’s brow furrowed deep enough to plant a row of grapevines in. “I beg your pardon?”
“As well you should,” she said, half glaring at him.
“My comments had nothing to do with these two lovebirds,” he said, placing a hand on each of their shoulders. “But rather are simply a reflection of my own wishes.”
“That’s fine if you aren’t interested in being married,” Taylor said. “But you came across as disapproving of them, and I don’t want you creating a rift between ‘these two lovebirds’ with your insensitivity.”
“My insensitivity?”
“If the shoe fits.”
Luca raised his hands. “Children,” he said, clapping his hands to get them in line. “We’re going to have to break up this schoolyard brawl. It’s late, and I know if I don’t get eight hours of sleep, well, I’m going to be a bear in the morning.”
“It’s okay, you can be my cozy bear,” Larkin said as she reached for his hand, which made Sandro about gag.
“Mio cugino,” Sandro said. “My cousin. I didn’t mean to insult anyone. Let’s first toast your wonderful news with our private cellar reserve grappa. I don’t take this out for just anyone.”
He led them inside to a private study with a small bar, then pulled out four glasses and poured the light amber liquid. He handed a glass to each of his guests.
“Salute e benessere,” he said, nodding to Luca and Larkin. “To the happy couple: to health and wellness.”
“Cin cin,” Luca said, tipping his glass to Larkin’s, then Taylor’s.
“As you know, to be a winemaker is to be a risk taker, yet also to know great patience,” Sandro said. “It sounds much like the role of a husband.” He laughed, and Luca joined with him. Larkin smiled a tepid smile, the type women make if someone asks when the due date is when they’re actually just overweight. Not a smile with sincerity behind it but rather more of a cringe. Taylor, on the other hand, grimaced.
Larkin leaned over and whispered in her friend’s ear. “So maybe I was wrong that you and Alessandro would hit it off,” she said. “But you’re here now, so please don’t worry about defending my honor. I’m totally fine, and I really don’t want to make waves. Just roll with it, okay?”
Taylor heaved a sigh. “Fine. But if he keeps up with the insults, he might just find himself on the receiving end of my wrath. And I’m pretty sure he would live to regret that.”
Luca leaned in to speak in hushed tones with his cousin. “I see you’ve not gotten past the whole Gia episode then?”
He growled. “Gotten past? It’s hardly been two months. I haven’t even had a chance to tackle my insurance claims on the car, let alone deal with the emotional fallout.”
Luca lifted an eyebrow. “Emotional fallout? Who are you fooling? You didn’t care much for Gia for a long time. I’m pretty sure the emotional fallout ends in a Euro sign and is all about your car.”
He shrugged. “Yeah, so, okay. I wasn’t all that bereft when it ended. Finally.” One side of his mouth lifted in an impish grin.
“So then why the cranky behavior?” Luca said. “You’re not making a good first impression on our guest.”
Sandro shook his head. “I want to make it abundantly clear that I am off-limits to your guest and to any other female who might happen into my little space in the world. I don’t want her—or any woman, for that matter—to mistake me for someone who cares.”
“Ouch,” Luca said. “You’re sounding a bit bitter.”
Sandro rubbed his hands together, then lifted them into the air as if in defeat. “Maybe,” he said, running his hands through his hair. “More like weary. Weary of all the nonsense I went through with Gia, but also just tired. I suppose I’ve been so bowled over with this big project. I’m working too hard, not sleeping enough—”
“Not getting laid,” Luca said. “I know you, Sandro. You’re cranky because you’re not getting any.”
“Oh stop,” he said. “It’s why God gave us hands.”
Luca laughed out loud, causing both the women to look at him. “A poor substitute, as you well know.”
“Maybe so, but my motto is any port in a storm,” Sandro said. “For now I’ll settle for a poor substitute, which at least won’t make me poor by destroying the next four-hundred-thousand-euro car I get.”
Luca playfully shoved his cousin. “Fine,” he said, waving his hands to dismiss him. “Be stubborn. But I sure don’t know why you’d settle for a box of dried raisins when you have a bunch of lush, lovely grapes hanging right in front of you, ripe for the picking if you played your cards right.”
Sandro rolled his eyes. “By that I assume you’re not suggesting I go make love to my grapevines but rather pursue her?” He nodded his head toward Taylor.
“Uh, that might get pretty uncomfortable, what with all those sharp stick things poking off them,” Luca said. “But if I were you, I’d pluck the low-hanging fruit that’s dangling right before your eyes. And maybe then the two of you could make love amidst your grapevines if you really wanted to incorporate that into your sexual experience. After all, you’re an Italian man. Hardly one to shy away from a little fun. Try it, you might like it.”
“I might like to have my balls waxed bare with hot paraffin too, but I highly doubt it,” he said, turning to the women. “On that note, I think it’s time to retire, my friends. I’ll show you to your rooms and wish you a buona notte.”
Chapter Four
Taylor had been looking forward to arriving at Luca’s cousin’s vineyard. After all, a weekend at a beautiful retreat in the heart of Italy’s wine country sounded like the perfect way to spend some downtime.
After a long stroll through Florence and an amazing four-course meal on a small rooftop terrace overlooking the Arno River, she enjoyed the scenic ride to Sandro’s in Luca’s charcoal-gray Alfa Romeo Giulia, fighting sleep the whole way. It had been a long day, and she was ready to settle down for the night. After arriving at Sandro’s palatial estate, they got out of the car and Taylor just stood for a moment, her senses alive with the sights and sounds of this beautiful countryside. She’d traveled the world enough to know that Tuscany was one of her happy places. Aside from the food, the wine, and the peopl
e, the inherent beauty and serenity of the countryside really spoke to her and soothed her soul.
Cooler night air had slipped in unannounced, and she rubbed her bare arms against the slight chill as she focused her attention on the chorus of emerging cicadas, the croak of tree frogs, the call of blackbirds, and the rustle of leaves in the night breeze as if transfixed by a beautiful symphony. The inky sky was aglow with twinkling fireflies, and the place felt downright magical.
“So this is it,” Luca said, spreading his arms. “Not a bad place to spend the weekend, right?”
Taylor shrugged. “Beats sleeping on the streets.” She smiled to herself, considering that during her childhood there had been times when she was a little too close to that reality for comfort. “It’s absolutely perfect, Luca. Thanks so much for inviting me. I think it will be an amazing weekend.”
The perfume of roses hung heavy in the air, and as she passed several rosebushes, Taylor bent down to breathe in the aroma, aware of the lone hoot of an owl in the distance. “I think I’m going to love this place.”
She’d taken her shoes off in the car and carried them as she climbed the staircase toward the open-air loggia. The warmth of the terra-cotta tile warmed her feet, and she felt as one with the place, as if she belonged there. It was a shame the feeling didn’t last long, because once she met Luca’s arrogant cousin, she couldn’t help but think she wanted to get far, far away from him and anything to do with him. She’d have been in the first Uber out of the place were that an option. Unfortunately, she didn’t think she even had a cell signal, let alone Uber service, out here.
She resolved to accept her fate for the next few days as she was to be a guest of a man clearly taken by his own self-importance, one she’d rather give a swift kick in the shins than a kiss on the lips. And when he’d started making acerbic remarks about Luca and Larkin’s engagement, she had to clench her fists to her sides to not reach out and smack him one just to shut him up. She worried maybe he’d poisoned the grappa he shared with them in the celebratory toast to the happy couple just to keep them from marrying, he was so cynical about women and relationships in general. What a buzzkill. Oh well, she wasn’t going to let his bad mood impact her temperament.
Red Hot Romeo (The Royal Romeos, #1) Page 2