The Italian's Unexpected Heir

by Jennifer Faye

  Then he let out a breath. His shoulders lowered just a bit, as though what had been holding him up had escaped in that breath. “I don’t know what you want from me.”

  “How about the truth? Why have you been avoiding me?”

  The silence returned. It dragged on so long that she was pretty certain he was never going to answer her—never going to tell her what she’d done wrong.

  “Why didn’t you tell me?” There was a note of accusation in his tone.

  “Tell you?” She had no idea what he was talking about. “Tell you what?”

  “That you were...you know.”

  “No, I don’t know. Tell me.”

  His mouth pressed closed as his dark brows drew together into a formidable line. “Tell me that you were a virgin.”

  Her mouth opened to reply but no words would form as her mind raced with a million thoughts at once. Instead, she stood there with her mouth gaping open.

  He was mad because she didn’t make a big deal out of her virginity? Seriously? How in the world could he be mad about that? Realizing that her mouth was still gaping open, she promptly closed it.

  Enzo continued to stare at her like he really expected her to answer him. She didn’t know what sort of answer he expected. Or why she had to explain herself.

  “I... I didn’t know my virginity needed to be stated before we made love. Would it really have made a difference?”

  “Of course it would have.” He raked his fingers through his thick, dark hair, sending the short strands scattering. When his gaze met hers this time, there was an intensity there that she’d never seen before. “How could you think otherwise?”

  “Because I wasn’t thinking about it when we were standing in front of the Eiffel Tower. All I was thinking about was you.” Intense heat rushed to her face upon realizing that she’d said too much.

  “Didn’t you think I deserved to know?”

  “No.” Was that selfish of her? She didn’t think so. It’s not like any of this really affected him or their time together. There was something else going on here—something he wasn’t telling her.

  Then he sighed. The lines on his handsome face smoothed. He turned away from her. He moved to the balustrade and then rested his forearms on the rail.

  “I’m sorry,” he said. Though with him turned away from her, she had to strain to hear his words. “I shouldn’t have said that. I just have a lot on my mind.”

  She wanted to ask if he was also sorry that they’d slept together, but she held back the words—but barely. At least they were getting somewhere. Now, if she could just keep him talking.

  “Is it your sisters?” She’d known ever since she’d come to live and work at the Bartolini estate that his parents’ sudden deaths had caused not just a ripple through his life but a tsunami of pain that had shaken each Bartolini sibling to the very core.

  “Yes. No. Not really.” There was anguish in his voice. Whatever was bothering him went deep, very deep.

  She moved to stand next to him at the rail. The scene of the rolling hills of the vineyard was stunning and usually captivated her attention, but right now she was fully focused on Enzo.

  Sylvie placed a hand on his arm. “You know you can talk to me about anything?”

  He turned his head to look at her and then turned away. “Not about this.”

  She stifled a sigh. Had they really come full circle? “Is this about Paris?”

  “Yes. And no.”

  She normally considered herself a patient person. After all, to be a good wedding planner, you needed to remain calm at all times, even when the bride was having an utter meltdown and blaming the whole world. Right now Sylvie would give anything to be dealing with a nervous bride and not a stubborn Enzo.

  Sylvie straightened her shoulders. She wasn’t backing off. “You need to tell me what’s on your mind because this guessing game isn’t working for me. If you’re mad about me being a virgin—”

  “No. It’s not that. And I wasn’t mad that you were a virgin. I was mad that I didn’t know.” He turned to her. Pain evident in his eyes. “If I had known, I would have...” He paused. “I would have backed away.”

  “Why? Do you have a thing against virgins?”

  “No. Of course not.” He shook his head. “But you should have shared that moment with someone special—someone you love.”

  “Oh.” This time she was the one who glanced away. Heat licked at her cheeks.

  CHAPTER TWO

  HE WAS MUCKING up this conversation. Royally.

  And worst of all, he was hurting Sylvie.

  Enzo inwardly groaned. She had a heart of gold and deserved someone better than him. She should have a man who had it all together. Someone who could look at her like she’d hung the stars.

  That was why he’d been keeping his distance. He’d suspected before they flew to Paris that she might have some feelings for him, but other times he was certain he was just reading more into their friendship than was there.

  And then she’d kissed him in front of the Eiffel Tower. Was it awful of him to admit that he hadn’t seen it coming? Not at all.

  Of course, that might have been because he’d just had one of the most important conversations of his life. There had been an offer to buy Barto Vineyard as well as the entire estate.

  Now, of course, this hadn’t been the first offer for the estate. Over the years, his father had had plenty of inquiries. All of which his father had immediately dismissed. To his father, this place—this land—it was in his soul. He needed it as much as he needed his next breath.

  However, Enzo now saw the estate in a much different view. This may be where his family had started, but it was also where that family had splintered apart. The secrets that were kept within the stone walls of the villa all these years were like poison, killing the family that he’d once known.

  Now one sister lived in Patazonia and was renouncing her Italian citizenship in order to become a princess. And his other sister had left the mainland to live on a Mediterranean island—far from home. It was though his sisters couldn’t wait to get as far away from this place as they could. And maybe they were right.

  Maybe it was time for him to move on—time for him to forge a new life somewhere far from Tuscany and all the memories tied up in this place.

  And that was why he hadn’t immediately dismissed the offer to buy the estate. But he hadn’t accepted the offer, either. He’d needed time to think it over. And that was what he’d been doing ever since they’d returned from Paris. Thinking. And thinking. And thinking some more.

  And at last, he’d come to a decision.

  Not an easy decision. Not that he’d expect something this big, this profound, to be made easily. But now that he solely owned the estate by default—as both of his sisters had found their happiness elsewhere—the decision was solely his to make.

  And now it was time to share the news with Sylvie.

  He glanced over at her, knowing how this was going to crush her. His chest tightened. “Sylvie, there’s something I need to tell you.”

  The color leeched from her face. “What is it?”

  She was so pale now that he was worried about her. “Do you feel all right?”

  “The news. What is it?”

  He hesitated. “Maybe we should sit down.”

  “No. I’m fine right here. What is it you wanted to tell me?”

  He drew in a deep breath and then let it out. It didn’t matter how long he put this off; it wasn’t going to get easier for either of them. It was best just to get it over with as quickly as possible. “I’ve agreed to sell the estate.”

  If it was possible for her face to grow paler, it most definitely had. Even her normally glossy pink lips were devoid of gloss this morning and had lost their color.

  “You did what?” Her voice faded with each wor
d.

  And then she swayed.

  He moved, his arms wrapping around her. Instinctively, he pulled her to him. “I’ve got you.”

  She pressed her hands to his chest. “I’m fine. Let me go.”

  He guided her over to one of the chairs at a table on the terrace. “Can I get you anything?”

  She shook her head. “Stop fussing. I’m fine.”

  “No, you’re not. You almost passed out over there. Are you sick?”

  Again, she shook her head. “I’m not sick. I keep telling you, I’m fine.”

  “People that are fine don’t pass out.”

  “I didn’t pass out.”

  “Okay, then you almost passed out. I’m not letting this go until you tell me what’s going on. Is it the news?”

  She shrugged. “I didn’t eat breakfast this morning and I went for a run.”

  “On an empty stomach?” No wonder she’d almost passed out.

  She shrugged once more. “When?”

  “What?”

  “When is the estate being sold?”

  “I don’t know. I just made the call this morning. We have to work out the details. Nothing has been fully decided.”

  She didn’t say anything to that. She got to her feet and quietly walked away, leaving him feeling worse than he had before.

  He thought she would yell at him—blame him for ruining her business. Anything would have been better than the silent treatment. Though he supposed he deserved it because ever since Paris he’d been quiet, too—trying to figure out the right thing to do for his family and for himself.

  But was it the right thing for Sylvie?

  * * *

  His proclamation had stunned her.

  The next morning Sylvie sat behind her desk in the guesthouse. She didn’t feel as though she’d accomplished a thing that morning. At least nothing that was on her to-do list.

  She’d spent most of yesterday in this little cottage on the estate. And she intended to do the same today. She told herself it was because she had a lot of work to do, but the real reason was that she was avoiding Enzo.

  The cottage was quiet and out of the way. It was used in part for wedding services, from choosing a gown, to dress fittings, to choosing decorations and everything else. Princess Bianca—well, she wasn’t officially a princess until Christmas—had invested most of the income from the weddings back into the business, building it up. Now the business was amazing. And Sylvie felt as though she had a dream job, but like with all dreams, it was coming to an end.

  Her stomach felt as though it was on the high seas, swaying this way and that. As such, her appetite was nonexistent.

  All the while her mind was on Enzo. How could he sell the estate? This was the same place he’d competed with his sisters over in order to claim ownership. And now he just suddenly changed his mind? She didn’t understand.

  It also meant she would once again be homeless. Tears rushed to her eyes but she blinked them away.

  She never used to be emotional. She couldn’t afford to be when she’d had to care for her mother. She’d had to be the strong one. Her mother had needed her to lean on.

  She’d been calm and collected when, after her mother’s death, the bank had repossessed the small house she’d grown up in. With only part-time work so she could care for her mother, she hadn’t been able to keep up with the mortgage payments.

  For a time, she’d been on her own with nothing more than what she could carry. It had been horrible but not as bad as losing her mother and knowing that she was all alone in this world, after having lost her father in a horrific accident when she was just a baby.

  But Enzo’s circumstances were different than hers. He had not only a home but also a family to rely on. Whether he was willing to acknowledge it or not, this estate was his destiny. The Barto Vineyard was as much a part of him as the blood flowing through his veins. But how did she get him to see this?

  There was a knock at the door. Before she could get up, she heard the door creak open.

  “Sylvie?” It was Enzo. “Sylvie, are you in here?”

  “In the office.”

  Her empty stomach shivered with nerves. What did he want to talk about now? She didn’t know what to say to change his mind about the sale.

  Enzo stepped into the office. His tall stature and broad shoulders seemed to fill the room, making the office feel much smaller than it truly was. He looked around the room, never letting his gaze rest on her. His intent on taking in everything in the office made it seem like he’d never been in here before, but the truth was he’d been in the office countless times.

  When the silence turned uncomfortable, Sylvie asked, “Was there something you needed?”

  He hitched his thumbs in the corners of his jean pockets and ducked his head. “I wanted to say I was sorry for how I handled things yesterday.”

  “You mean springing it on me that I’ve lost not only my home but also my business, too?”

  He kept his gaze down toward the floor as he nodded. “Don’t worry. I plan to help you out.”

  “Help me out?” She didn’t like the sound of that. She wasn’t a charity case. She’d already had to accept the help of others after her mother passed on. That had been so hard to do. She wasn’t going to do that again. She had worked hard to put away some savings. It would tide her over until she came up with another job.

  He nodded and then his gaze met hers. “You just have to tell me where you want to settle and I’ll make sure you have a place to live. If you want, I can set you up with your own wedding business.”

  Her mouth gaped. Realizing she must look like a guppy, she pressed her lips together as she attempted to gather her scattered thoughts.

  “Why?” When he sent her a puzzled look, she elaborated on her thought. “Why would you do something like that? It’s so...so generous.”

  He rubbed the back of his neck. “Because it’s my fault you’re losing your place to live and work. It seems like the only right thing to do.”

  She seized upon that last part of his explanation. “The right thing to do? So you’re doing this out of some sense of obligation?”

  “Well, yes.”

  That was what she figured. He was a man driven by his sense of duty and obligation. She didn’t want to be one of his obligations. “That won’t be necessary. You don’t owe me anything—”

  “Of course I do—”

  “No, you don’t.” She stood so he didn’t have quite such a height advantage over her. “I’m not part of your family. There’s no reason for you to feel obligated where I’m concerned. I...” She almost mentioned that she took care of not only herself but also her mother, but decided against bringing it up. There was a lot she still hadn’t shared with him because she hadn’t wanted to scare him off with all her heavy baggage. “I can take care of myself.”

  A frown settled on his handsome face. “Of course you can. I didn’t mean to imply otherwise. But I just feel bad about you moving here all the way from Patazonia and already the business is shutting down. That’s not fair.”

  “Life isn’t fair. I learned that a long time ago.”

  Like when her mother struggled with three jobs to keep a roof over their heads when Sylvie was young. Her mother had been a seamstress, one of the best in the land, but when business had dropped off because people started buying clothes over the internet, her mother picked up cleaning jobs to help balance the budget.

  “Sylvie, what are you talking about?”

  She shook her head. “It’s nothing.” He eyed her as though trying to read the truth in her eyes. Worried he’d see too much, she glanced away. It was time to change the subject away from her. She lifted her gaze once more. “Are you sure this is what you want to do?”

  “What? Help you? Of course I am.”

  She shook her head. “No. I m
ean sell this place.”

  This time it was his turn to glance away. “I’m certain.”

  “But just months ago you were determined to beat both of your sisters and win ownership of the villa, the vineyard—the entire estate. How can you change your mind so quickly?”

  His brows gathered in a firm line and when his gaze landed on her, it was dark and stormy. “Because this isn’t the place it used to be. It’s broken and tarnished. It’s best for me and my sisters to put it in our rearview mirrors and keep moving forward.”

  Ouch! She had no idea he was harboring such hostilities regarding his childhood home. But something told her selling the estate wouldn’t resolve the turmoil going on inside him. It went far deeper than grapevines and a place to lay his head at night.

  “But what will you do?” she asked. “Where will you go?”

  “I don’t know. Maybe back to Paris. I have a standing invitation to go work at a prestigious vineyard there.”

  “But it won’t be your vineyard.” She’d seen the pride he took in the grapes at the Barto Vineyard. Even though it was an enormous vineyard with many employees, Enzo made sure to take part in all facets of the operation. “It won’t have your family name on the wine.”

  His dark gaze was unreadable in that moment. “Maybe that’s for the best. After everything that happened here this year, it is best to close the door on all of this.”

  It was then that Sylvie realized how big of a challenge she’d set for herself in changing his mind about remaining here. But she wasn’t a quitter. She was a fighter. It was one of the last things her mother told her.

  Never give up on life. Keep fighting for what’s most important.

  And right now Enzo’s heritage was at stake as well as her business. She was as certain as she was standing here that he would regret parting with this land as much as she would regret not fighting to keep her home and occupation.

  “I have to go,” he said. “We’ll talk more about this later.”

  Sylvie tried to think of a reason for him to stay. She glanced down at her desktop and her gaze landed on her calendar. “Wait.” When he paused at the doorway and turned back to her, she said, “We need to talk about the sale. I need to know what weddings to work on relocating to a new venue.”