He shook his head. “No worries. It’s all good.”
But she could sense it wasn’t all good, and dinner proceeded with very little interaction between the two of them, with Sandro seeming to address Luca or Larkin exclusively throughout the meal, never Taylor.
They were finishing after-dinner espressos when a woman approached the table.
“I’m so sorry to bother you,” she said, looking at Taylor. “But would you mind if I took a quick selfie with you that I could send to my daughter? She thinks you hung the moon, what with being so beautiful and all, but also for your charitable work. She even wrote a paper about all the good works that you’ve done behind the scenes, for a college seminar she took on volunteering.”
Taylor blushed. As used as she was to being the center of attention, it was in small gatherings like this that she still felt awkward being singled out for her looks. But when the woman referenced her philanthropic work, something dearest to her heart, she won her over instantly.
“I’d love to,” Taylor said, standing up and grabbing her phone. Since she was taller with the longest arms, she had the best chance of getting a good shot of the two of them. Taylor wrapped her arm around the woman, extended her arm in front of them, and smiled broadly for the picture.
“I’m so honored,” the woman said. “Everyone is going to be so jealous when they see this picture up on my Instagram account!”
Taylor smiled. She felt lucky that it took little effort on her part to make someone else’s day. Funny, the only one who seemed mostly immune to her many fine qualities was Alessandro Romeo. Good thing she didn’t need him in her life. And vice versa, for that matter.
Chapter Seventeen
Sandro felt like a damned tennis ball being volleyed back and forth on a bed of hot coals. Every time he resolved to completely not give a care for Taylor McFarland, something would happen to cause him to reconsider his dug-in attitude. And now he overheard from some complete stranger fan-girl woman that Taylor was some sort of superhero philanthropist? It was hard to have that jibe with his preconceived notion that she was your run-of-the-mill narcissistic supermodel. Even though plenty of signs kept pointing elsewhere.
Following dinner, they’d returned to the palazzo and were relaxing on the terrace in front of a large outdoor fireplace, enjoying a reserve Romeo Chianti that Sandro was particularly proud of.
“I must say, Sandro, your family does produce a pretty impressive bottle of wine,” Taylor said. “Well, I guess it wouldn’t be just a bottle. More like a cask or cellar. Or something like that. Not sure of my wine terminology.”
“Thank you,” he said. “We’ve been working on it long enough that we should have it mastered by now. Though of course so many variables go into the end product, many of which are out of our control.”
“Any chance we can order enough of this to serve at our wedding?” Larkin said.
Sandro nodded. “I’ll be sure to make it happen. Consider it my gift to you both.” He gave them a nod and lifted his glass. He was gradually coming around to the fact that this was happening, like it or not. And if he had to lose his good friend to someone, at least it was Larkin, whom he could see was good for Luca.
Larkin stretched her arms and yawned. “I don’t know about you folks, but I had a rough day. Between that long, leisurely breakfast; relaxing by the pool all day interrupted only by a long, leisurely lunch; punctuated by a long, leisurely dinner— Well, I’m beat. Not to mention so stuffed.”
“Stuffed just like that unbelievable ravioli I ate too much of tonight,” Taylor said, rubbing her belly. “I think I’ve got a food baby in there.”
Luca got up and extended his hand to Larkin. “Let’s see if we can end the day with a long, leisurely—”
Taylor held up her hands. “Thanks, don’t think we need to be privy to that information.
Luca smiled. “I knew that would make you want to get rid of us that much sooner. Good night, you two!”
Taylor felt like that should have been her cue to excuse herself as well, but it was such a beautiful night and such a perfect temperature, she wasn’t ready to call it a night. It was still early enough in the summer they were spared the oppressive heat that would soon envelop much of Italy. Once again, the sky was awash with jewellike stars studded across a soft blanket of black. A comfortable breeze stirred up the scent of rosemary, lavender, and sage planted in gardens surrounding the terrace.
Taylor took off her shoes and stretched her long legs out to rest on the low wrought iron and Italian-tiled tabletop in front of them.
“Make yourself right at home,” Sandro said, teasing her.
“Don’t mind if I do. You okay if I hang out a few more minutes?” she said. “You’re perfectly welcome to go to bed. It’s just so lovely out here, I hate to turn in early and miss this chance to commune with the night sky for a bit.”
“Commune away,” he said. “I’m enjoying having a moment’s peace before things get crazy tomorrow.”
“Do you sort of wish you’d not bothered with the big party and instead just quietly opened the thing?”
He frowned. “In a way maybe. But that’s not how my family does things. We’re all about the fanfare.”
“Speaking of family,” she said. “Rumor has it you’ve got a large one. But I’ve yet to meet a one of them.”
He raised an eyebrow. “Huh. I guess that’s true. Mamma’s been away. She gets back in town just before things get underway tomorrow. Everyone else has been busy helping to get ready. Some in the office fielding media calls, guest questions, that sort of thing. Others overseeing last-minute finishing touches with things like carpentry. The rest are dealing with the details of the event itself. Come to think of it, I guess I’m the only one who’s taken a break over the past few days.”
“Is that a good thing or a bad thing in the eyes of your siblings?”
He shrugged. “We’re a very egalitarian group here. Each of us contributes plenty to the end result, and none of us resents the other for occasionally putting in a little less effort. Not that I’ve not put in my own sweat equity with this thing. Believe me, I have in spades.”
He reached over for the bottle of wine and refilled their glasses.
“Was this thing your idea then?” She took a sip of her drink and savored it.
He shook his head vigorously. “No, not at all. This was my father’s project originally. He’d wanted so much to see this to fruition. But he never even got it off the ground before he died.”
She wrinkled her brow. “I’m so sorry.”
He shook his head. “It was a long time ago, although it still feels almost like yesterday. Papà would be so proud of this moment. His family came together to fulfill his dream.”
“And you were in charge of it?”
He stood up and put another piece of wood on the fire. Sparks flew as the wood crackled, and the intoxicating aroma of cypress filled the air.
“The day my father died was the day I became a man,” he said. “I had no choice. As the oldest of six, someone needed to be in charge. My mother was so filled with grief it was all she could do to be there for us in even a small way. Of course we had help; that is the advantage of having wealth. But no amount of money can replace a man like my papà, who was a good man, an ambitious man with big dreams.” He spread out his arms. “Including this.”
“Quite a burden for a young man.”
“I was about to enter university when he died,” he said. “I knew nothing about responsibility.”
“It must have been hard. I’m so sorry.”
“You don’t know the half of it,” he said. “My mamma, as I said, was there but not there. My brothers and my sister lashed out and then blamed me for trying to be in charge. My sister Valentina mocked me, calling me papà but not in a good way. She meant that I was bossy and demanding.
“There were many pressures.” He stared out across the vineyard. “I managed the family, I managed the business, I even took classes when
I could and eventually earned my degree. And of course this pet project of my father’s became my firstborn. It was my goal to take it to fruition.”
“Did you ever have time for just you?”
He shook his head. “Certainly not in the early days. When my peers were out sowing their wild oats, I was overseeing the harvest, planning for the next season. Of course, we had many workers who could help with that, but there was much to learn, which left little time for playing.”
“Which begs the question: how did you earn your reputation as such a playboy?” she said. “I think Larkin may have mentioned that along the way.”
“I fear my image far exceeds my reality,” he said, frowning. “But what about you? A famous supermodel and all. No doubt you’ve been courted by countless men.”
She smiled. “Courted. Such a charming word. But no, I wouldn’t say I’ve been courted so much as perpetually hit upon. For some reason men think they can just have a piece of women in my business, which isn’t the case. At least with me it’s not.”
“How did you ever decide to get into modeling anyhow?”
“It helped that I was a human skyscraper, I suppose,” she said with a chuckle. “By the time I was in high school, my mother had found a somewhat steady job and we actually lived in a tiny studio apartment. It was a palace. We still had no money though. But when you’re that age, your friends always want to go to the mall to shop, right? So I would go to the mall, I just would never buy anything.”
“I’m sorry about that,” he said. “I think about Valentina at that age, and I can’t remember what she was more crazy about: boys or clothes.”
“Yeah, well, the boys thing took care of itself since I was too tall for them,” she said. “But the mall was our favorite hangout. And one day I was at the mall and a man came up to me and asked me if I’d done any modeling. Of course, I wasn’t stupid and didn’t just believe the man. But I took his phone number—after laughing out loud at the prospect—and went home and talked to my mom.”
“And that was it?”
“Sort of, yeah,” she said. “I was under contract a few weeks later, on my way to New York, and never looked back.”
“Did you miss your mother?”
“I guess the way I grew up, I was ready to find something better. Sure, I missed her. But I also was pretty darned happy to have a job that paid great money. No more struggling, no more scrimping, no more hardship. No more enduring poverty.”
He clapped. “Brava. A happy ending finally.”
“Mostly so. You’re right about that,” she said. “Though with fame has come the need to circle the wagons. I had to learn to be very wary, particularly of men. Sometimes it seems that everyone wants to be your friend and every man wants a piece of you. Eventually I learned to not put myself in the position of being hurt by men who wanted to use me. It’s a hard lesson to learn, but it’s okay—we all have to learn that to some degree, don’t we?”
“This is true. Sometimes you trust, and it ends up burning you. Or your beloved car,” he added under his breath.
“Huh?”
“Oh, nothing.”
They sat for a while in silence but for the crackle of the fire and the sounds of the night.
“The peacefulness of this is enticing,” she said. “You are very spoiled living here.”
“You’re right. I am. Though I have deep appreciation for my connection to this place, the land beneath our feet, and all that the earth pushes forth. It’s a part of me, and I’m a part of it.”
“I envy you that connection.”
“But surely with your great success you have some amazing penthouse apartment that you now call home.”
“Actually, I bought my mother a home for her very own when I hit it big,” she said. “But it didn’t make sense for me to spend the money on something for me since I’m on the road so often. When I travel I stay at the nicest hotels, so I’m not suffering. But it does mean I’m not planted anywhere in particular. I guess everywhere is home for me now. Which isn’t a bad thing: the world is an amazing place, and I’ve had the chance to see a lot of it.”
“I have a feeling you’ll end up right where you’re meant to be someday,” he said. “And when it happens, you’ll appreciate that it’s home more than just about anyone.”
She nodded. “Maybe by then I can come back here and buy you out.” She laughed.
“I’m afraid you’d have to take that up with a whole lot of Romeos,” he said. “And there’s strength in numbers.”
“In that case, maybe I can buy a small parcel of land nearby that can be my own. I really love it here. Something about it speaks to me.”
Only the more she talked to this red-hot Romeo, the more she knew that would likely not be such a good plan. She could resist him for the duration of a short weekend getaway, but forever? She doubted she had the stamina to withstand him for that long. For that matter, she could feel her defenses weakening with every shared word between them. She knew she needed to extricate herself before she did something stupid.
“Thanks for a great evening, Sandro,” she said, getting up and reaching down for her sandals. “And thanks for staying up with me and sharing your thoughts. Seems you’re not such a bad guy after all.”
He frowned. “Gee, thanks for the ringing endorsement. Turns out you’re not such a bad supermodel yourself.” He chucked her on the shoulder as she turned to head to bed.
And she walked into the house, wishing she were brave enough to set aside her fears and show him what kind of supermodel she really was, so to speak. But she wasn’t willing to risk it; her heart was too fragile to take such a crazy chance.
Chapter Eighteen
It took all Sandro’s willpower to not chase after Taylor as she walked away from him. Especially after he got a nice peek down her top when she leaned over to grab her shoes. Oh well, clearly it just wasn’t meant to be—he was far too proud to beg. Instead, he opted to sit outside and indulge in the solitude his life rarely afforded him. If he couldn’t have a gratuitous little fling, at least he could enjoy a few moments of uninterrupted peace and quiet.
He was surprised to see this side of Taylor. She seemed like a nice woman, no pretenses, just going about her life, minding her business and lending a helping hand to others. He had to respect that about the woman.
After about half an hour, he took a final sip of his wine, checked that the embers were dying in the fireplace, and finally retreated to bed. He had a crazy busy day ahead of him, and he badly needed some shut-eye.
~*~
Sandro was in a deep, deep sleep when he heard a knock on his door. At first it seemed like it was just part of his dream, but it grew louder and louder until it finally jarred him awake.
He jumped out of bed and opened the door, stark naked, to see Taylor standing before him, ashen-faced and panting wildly like she’d just seen a ghost.
“What’s wrong?”
“S-s-s-snake.” She pointed toward her room. “There’s a snake. In there.”
“Is this part of your bad dreams?”
“No,” she said loudly. “This is not a bad dream. This is a wide-awake nightmare. There is a snake. In there. Now.”
“Impossible. We might have snakes out on the farm but never in the house.”
She kept pointing to the room, her face white. “I’m telling you there’s a big damned snake in there.”
“How did you find a snake if you were asleep?”
“I woke up again,” she said. “I had a bad dream so I woke up. I’d left a window open to let the cool night air in, but the sheer curtains were drawn. I went over to open them to look out at the sky. I wanted to try to see the Milky Way. So I walked over to the window, and there it was, coiled on the window seat as if it belonged there. It’s a snake, I’m telling you.”
Sandro wondered for a minute if the woman had completely lost it. A snake? In her bedroom? He’d sooner expect to see a porcupine or a wild boar in there.
Without thin
king, he approached her room and entered.
“Don’t turn on the light,” she said in a hushed voice. “You don’t want him to charge. Or strike. Or whatever they do.”
He slowly approached the window, and there was enough moonlight streaming in that he saw it as plain as day: a fat, coiled viper, acting as if he owned the place.
He looked at Taylor. “You were right. There’s a snake in your room.”
She hit her forehead with the heel of her hand. “Oh gee, you think? What are we going to do about it?”
“Calm down. I know what to do with it, I just never had to do this in the house before. Let me get down to the toolshed and I’ll get the snake tongs. Give me a few minutes.”
“Snake tongs?” she said. “Are you planning to sauté the thing?”
He laughed. “No, they’ll just help me get a grip on it so I can haul it away. You stay right here, and I’ll be back as soon as possible.”
She followed behind him. “I’m not staying in here waiting for you, buster.”
“Fine,” he said. “Then come on. I need to get back to sleep or I’m going to be a mess tomorrow.”
They left the room together, and as they reached the hallway, he looked down, realizing he’d been completely naked the whole time. He looked up just in time to see her lifting her gaze back up as well.
“So there’s that,” he said.
“Ummmm.” She averted her gaze—but only after he’d caught her staring and licking her lips.
“Yeah. Mind if I take care of this?”
“By all means. I think that would be best,” she said, nervously rolling back on her heels, extending her arm toward his room. “I’ll wait here.”
He returned within a minute wearing a pair of Puma soccer shorts slung low across his abdomen, which she promptly stared at.
He pointed at her skimpy pajamas. “You sure you don’t want to find something a little more decent to wear in case we run into anyone?” His concern was more for the hard-on that was going to pop up any minute, more likely the longer he stared at her in that outfit.
Red Hot Romeo (The Royal Romeos, #1) Page 8