The Vineyards Of Calanetti. Rebecca Winters
understand that.”
“Now I see I was selfish. I did not want to lose my dream again.”
“I understand that, too.”
He shook his head fiercely. “You’re missing what I’m telling you. I might have been broken by her loss, but Kamila was the wrong woman for me. I was never my real self with her. I was one compromise after another. With you, I am me. I see my temper and I rein it back. I see myself with kids. I see a house. I long to make you happy.”
Oh, dear God, did the man have no heart? “Don’t say things you don’t mean.”
“I never say things I don’t mean. I love you, Daniella.” He reached for her again. “Do not get on that plane tomorrow.”
She stepped back, so far that he couldn’t touch her, and pressed her fingers to her lips. Her heart so very desperately wanted to believe every word he said. Her brain had been around, though, for every time that same heart was broken. This man had called Paul’s proposal a stopgap measure...yet, here he was doing the same thing.
“No.”
His face fell. “No?”
“What did you tell me about Paul asking to marry me the day before I left New York?”
He frowned.
“You said it was a stopgap measure. A way to keep me.”
He walked toward her. “Daniella...”
She halted him with a wave of her hand. “Don’t. I feel foolish enough already. You’re afraid I’m going to go home so you make a proposal that mocks everything I believe in.”
She yearned to close her eyes at the horrible sense of how little he thought of her, but she held them open, held back her tears and made the hardest decision of her life.
“I’m going back to New York.” Her heart splintered in two as she realized this really was the end. They’d never bump into each other at a coffee shop, never sit beside each other in the subway, never accidentally go to the same dry cleaner. He lived thousands of miles away from her and there’d be no chance for them to have the time they needed to really fall in love. He’d robbed them of that with his insulting proposal.
“Mancini’s will be fine without me.” She tried a smile. “You will be fine without me.” She took another few steps back. “I’ve gotta go.”
DANI RACED OUT of Mancini’s, quickly started Louisa’s little car and headed home. Her flight didn’t leave until ten in the morning. But she had to pack. She had to say goodbye to Louisa. She had to give back the tons of clothes her new friend had let her borrow for her job at Mancini’s.
She swiped at a tear as she turned down the lane to Palazzo di Comparino. Her brain told her she was smart to be going home. Her splintered heart reminded her she didn’t have a home. No one to return to in the United States. No one to stay for in Italy.
The kitchen light was on and as was their practice, Louisa had waited up for Dani. As soon as she stepped in the kitchen door, Louisa handed her a cup of tea. Dani glanced up at her, knowing the sheen of tears sparkled on her eyelashes.
“What’s wrong?”
“I’m going home.”
Louisa blinked. “I thought this was settled.”
“Nothing’s ever settled with Rafe.” She sucked in a breath. “The smart thing for me is to leave.”
“What about the restaurant, your job, your destiny?”
She fell to a seat. “He asked me to marry him.”
Louisa’s eyes widened. “How is that bad? My God, Dani, even I can see you love the guy.”
“I said no.”
“Oh, sweetie! Sweetie! You love the guy. How the hell could you say no?”
“I’ve been here four weeks, Louisa. Rafe is a confirmed bachelor and he asked me to marry him. The day before I’m supposed to go home. You do the math.”
“What math? You have a return ticket to the United States. He doesn’t want you to go.”
Dani slowly raised her eyes to meet Louisa’s. “Exactly. The proposal was a stopgap measure. He told me all about it when we talked about Paul asking me to marry him. He said Paul didn’t want to risk losing me, so the day before I left for Italy, he’d asked me to marry him.”
“And you think that’s what Rafe did?”
Her chin lifted. “You don’t?”
* * *
Rafe was seated at the bar on his third shot of whiskey when Emory ambled out into the dining room.
“What are you doing here?”
He presented the shot glass. “What does it look like I’m doing?”
Emory frowned. “Getting drunk?”
Rafe saluted his correct answer.
“After a successful catering event that could have gone south, you’re drinking?”
“I asked Daniella to marry me. And do you know what she told me?”
Looking totally confused, Emory slid onto the stool beside Rafe. “Obviously, she said no.”
“She said no.”
Emory laughed. Rafe scowled at him. “Why do you think this is funny?”
“The look on your face is funny.”
“Thanks.”
“Come on, Rafe, you’ve known the girl a month.”
“So she doesn’t trust me?”
Emory laughed. “Look at you. Look at how you’ve treated her. Would you trust you?”
“Yeah, well, she’s leaving for New York tomorrow. I didn’t want her to go.”
Emory frowned. “Ah. So you asked her to marry you to keep her from going?”
“No. I asked her to marry me because I love her.” He rubbed his hand along the back of his neck. “But I’d also told her that her boyfriend had asked her to marry him the day before she left for Italy as a stopgap measure. Wanting to tie her to him, without giving her a real commitment, he’d asked. But he hadn’t really meant it. He just didn’t want her to go.”
Emory swatted him with a dish towel. “Why do you tell her these things?”
“At the time it made sense.”
“Yeah, well, now she thinks you only asked her to marry you to keep her from going back to New York.”
“No kidding.”
Emory swatted him again. “Get the hell over to Palazzo di Comparino and fix this!”
“How?”
Emory’s eyes narrowed. “You know what she wants...what she needs. Not just truth, proof. If you love her, and you’d better if you asked her to marry you, you have to give her proof.”
He jumped off the stool, grabbed Emory’s shoulders and noisily kissed the top of his head. “Yes. Yes! Proof! You are a hundred percent correct.”
“You just make sure she doesn’t get on that plane.”
* * *
Dani’s tears dried as she and Louisa packed her things. Neither one of them expected to sleep, so they spent the night talking. They talked of keeping in touch. Video chatting and texting made