The Vineyards Of Calanetti. Rebecca Winters
“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.
Anxious to rebuild that wall between them, he braced his hands on her hips and pushed her back. Her eyes fluttered open and confusion showed in them.
“We should head back to the hotel. I...I have work to do.”
Disappointment flashed in her eyes. “Oh. Okay.”
He retraced their steps. “I have a conference call this afternoon.”
Kayla fell in step beside him. He should say something. Explain somehow. But he didn’t know what to say because that kiss left him utterly confused by the rush of emotions she’d evoked in him. Somehow, some way, she’d sneaked past his well-placed barriers and with each smile, each touch, she was getting to him. That wasn’t part of his plan.
Unable to decide what to do about his undeniable attraction to his assistant, he turned his attention to something much less stressful—the village. For the first time, he saw its charms. Kayla had opened his eyes to everything he’d blocked out, from the amazing artisans, to the detailed architecture, to the warm and friendly people. He had so much to work with now. The pitch would be amazing if he could pull it all together, even though he was still unsure about the wedding aspect.
Still, Monte Calanetti had some of the best food in the world. It was sure to impress even the royal couple. And to be truthful, he was quite anxious to try Raffaele’s restaurant—if the rumors were anything to go by, it was out of this world.
Although his desire to go to dinner had more to do with Kayla than the food. He hungered for more of her melodious laugh and her contagious smiles. Though he shouldn’t, he’d come to really enjoy her company.
As productive as they were, working as a team, he was enjoying getting to know her on a personal level. After all, it wasn’t as if this thing, whatever you wanted to call it, would carry over to New York. He’d make sure of it. But what would it hurt to enjoy the moment?
ANGELO SWIPED HIS key card and opened the suite door for Kayla. When she brushed past him, he noticed the softest scent of wildflowers.