Rebecca Winters - The Vineyards Of Calanetti

He held out his hand to her. She accepted it. A shiver of excitement raced up her arm. They continued to stare deep into each other’s eyes, even though it was totally unnecessary. She knew she should turn away. She knew that it was the proper thing to do with her boss. But as he’d just pointed out they were friends—for now.

His voice grew deeper. “I couldn’t think of a better friend to have.”

Her heart fluttered in her chest. What had just happened?

Angelo turned and tucked her hand back in the crook of his arm. Why did it suddenly feel as though their relationship had just taken a detour? How would they ever find their way back to just being boss and employee now?

* * *

Monte Calanetti is a diamond in the rough.

Had that thought really just crossed his mind?

Before he’d left the hotel a few hours ago, he’d envisioned Monte Calanetti as he had when he was a child—suffocating with its traditional ways and its resistance to growth and to modernization. But somehow, with Kayla by his side, he’d seen the village from a different perspective—he’d seen it through her very beautiful, very observant eyes. With her passion and romantic tendencies, she might just be the key he needed to pull this wedding pitch together. But did he dare ask for her help?

Sure, she had talent. He’d witnessed it firsthand with the Van Holsen account. But did he trust her with a project that was so important to his family? After all, his brother and sister, not to mention the entire village, were counting on him to represent them properly to the royal couple. But how was he supposed to do that when he kept hitting one brick wall after the other?

They walked some more before Kayla turned to him. “Thank you for showing me your hometown. I love it.”

“Really?” He failed to keep the surprise from his voice.

“Of course I do. How could you not? Not only that but it has the most delicious aromas and it’s so peaceful.” Just then two scooters whizzed by them. “Okay, so it isn’t totally peaceful.”

“You’ll get used to them. Scooters are very popular around here.”

A couple more scooters zoomed down the road causing Kayla to step into the grass. She took a moment, taking in her surroundings. “Is this where you went to school?”

Angelo glanced at the back of the building off in the distance. The years started to slip away. “Yes, it is.”

“I bet you were a handful back then.”

As a young kid, he’d been the complete opposite of the way he is now. “I believe the word they used was incorrigible .”

Now why had he gone and admitted that? Letting down his defenses and opening up about his past would only lead to confusion and misunderstandings, because sharing was what people did when they were getting serious. And that wasn’t going to happen. He refused to let it happen. No matter how ripe her lips were for a kiss. Or how her smile sent his pulse racing.

“You probably picked on all of the girls and pulled on their ponytails.”

He shook his head. “Not me. I didn’t have time for girls, not until I was a bit older.”

“And then I bet you broke a lot of hearts.”

He wasn’t sure about that, but there was one girl, Vera Carducci, and he’d had the biggest crush on her. He hadn’t thought of her in years.

“See. I was right.” Kayla smiled triumphantly.

“Actually, I was the one who got dumped.”

“That’s so hard to believe—”

“It’s the truth.” Why did he feel the need to make Kayla believe that his life was far from idyllic? What was it about her that had him letting down his guard? He had to do better. He couldn’t let her get too close. It’d only cause them pain in the end.

Kayla walked over to a tree in the school yard. Her fingers traced over the numerous carvings from initials to hearts. “Was this the kissing tree?”

He nodded, suddenly wishing they were anywhere but here.

“I bet your initials are here...somewhere.” Kayla’s voice drew him back to the present. “Want to point me in the right direction?”

“Actually, they aren’t here.”

Her eyes opened wide. “Really? I thought for sure that you would have been popular with the girls.”

He shrugged, recalling his fair share of girlfriends over the years. But he’d never kissed them here. Not a chance.

“Surely you stole a kiss or two.” Her gaze needled him for answers.

“Not here.”

“Why not?”

Oh, what did it matter if he told her? It wasn’t as if there was any truth to the legend. It was all a bunch of wishful thinking.

“There’s some silly legend attached to the tree that says whoever you kiss here will be your soul mate for life.”

Kayla’s green eyes widened with interest. “Really? And you don’t believe it?”

He shook his head. “It’s just an old wives’ tale. There’s nothing to it.”

“And yet you’ve made a point not to kiss anyone here.” She stepped closer to him. “If you don’t believe in such superstitions, prove it.”

His pulse kicked up a notch. Why was there a gleam in her eyes? Was she challenging him? Did she really expect him to kiss her here?

Instead of the idea scaring him off, it actually appealed to him. His gaze dipped to her lips. Kayla was the only woman he had ever contemplated kissing here—wait, when did that happen? He gave himself a mental jerk, but it didn’t chase away the tempting thought.

What was it about Miss Kayla Hill that had him wishing there were such things as happily-ever-afters instead of roller-coaster relationships? He’d had so much turbulence in his life that he couldn’t stand anymore. But Kayla was different. She had a calming presence.

This wasn’t right. He should make it perfectly clear that he was no Romeo, but the way she kept staring at him, challenging him with her eyes, filled him with a warm sensation. He didn’t want it to end. What would it hurt to let her remain caught up in her romantic imaginings?

Without thinking about the pros and cons of what he was about to do, he dipped his head and caught her lips with his own. Her lips were soft and pliant. He wrapped his arms around her slender waist and pulled her to him. She willingly followed his lead. Her soft curves pressed to him and a moan swelled deep in his throat. How in the world was he ever going to let her go? He’d never felt anything this intense for anyone—ever.

He wanted to convince himself that it was because she was forbidden fruit—his assistant. But he couldn’t buy that. There was something so special about her that he couldn’t diminish the connection with such a flimsy excuse. He knew as sure as he was standing there in a lip-lock with her that if their situation were different and he wasn’t her boss that he’d still desire her with every fiber of his body.

His mouth moved over hers, slow at first. Yet when she met him move for move, the desire burning in him flared. Her mouth opened to him and she tasted sweet like the sun-ripened berries she’d sampled back in the village. He’d never tasted anything so delectable in his life. He doubted he’d ever experience a moment like this again.

There was something so special about Kayla. It was as though no matter what he did, she could see the real him. But could she see his scars, the ones that kept him from letting people get too close?

Her hands slid up over his shoulders and wrapped around the back of his neck. Her touch sent waves of excitement down his spine. He wanted her. He needed her. But his heart and mind were still guarded.

If he let her get any closer, she’d learn of his shame—of his ultimate pain—and then she’d pity him. Pity was not something that he could tolerate. He was Angelo Amatucci. A self-made man. He needed no one’s sympathy. He needed no one.