“She’s right, they couldn’t,” Rafe said. “No matter how hard I tried to make them.”
“They showed us the photos, and the place can’t hold a candle to Louisa’s.”
“That’s because Palazzo di Comparino is special.” Intended as both a compliment and a warning, Nico’s comment made Louisa bristle. It’d been nine months since she’d moved in and he still acted as though the palazzo was his responsibility. And Dani wondered why she didn’t want to talk about her plans.
“Special, yes,” she replied, “but it’s also very large and expensive for one person to keep up.” Especially if said person had no other source of income. “Opening it to the public is one way to cover some of the expenses.” As well as help her stay independent. Being in charge, having total control of her life again, seemed almost too good to be true.
Maybe she could finally put the past behind her.
No sooner did the thought form than her old friend insecurity came rushing in to take its place. “Of course, the building needs a lot more upgrading before I can do much of anything, and I still have to secure financing. Who knows how long it’ll take before anything happens.”
“Well, I agree with Dani—I like the idea. A high-end hotel is exactly what Monte Calanetti needs,” Rafe said as he warmed both her and Dani’s coffee. “If you need anything, let us know. Nico and I will be glad to help. Isn’t that right, Nico?”
“Absolutely.” The vineyard owner slid his empty cup across the table for a refill, which Rafe immediately provided, remembering Nico preferred espresso. There was a roguish gleam in his eyes as he smiled. “As the two of us have proven, we make a good team, do we not?”
A good team. In a flash, Louisa’s mind traveled back in time...
The Royal Wedding
“Ask and you shall receive. Your cake, signorina.” Nico’s exaggerated bow as he handed her a slice of cake made Louisa laugh. The wedding had brought out the lightheartedness in everyone, even her. It felt good, laughing. She’d faked happiness for so long that she was afraid she’d forgotten how to truly enjoy herself.
“Grazie,” she replied with her best regal nod before noticing he’d returned with only one plate. “No slice for you? Don’t tell me there isn’t enough.” She saw the cake; it was large enough to feed all of Italy.
“Ah, but it’s more fun to share, don’t you think?” From his breast pocket, he produced two forks. “To commemorate our successful partnership. We make a good team, do we not?”
“Surprisingly, yes.” If anyone had told her that one day she and the vineyard owner would be civil to one another, let alone work together, she would have told them they were crazy. But the two of them had organized the massive village cleanup in preparation for today’s wedding. As a result, the palazzo and the plaza had never looked lovelier—a pretty big achievement considering the village had started out picture-perfect.
And now, here they were enjoying each other’s company at the wedding reception, as well. Things between them had definitely thawed since Louisa’s first day in town when he’d demanded to see her ownership papers. Or maybe she was the one who was starting to thaw?
It certainly felt as though something inside her was shifting.
She focused her attention to the cake Nico was sliding toward her.
“If we’re toasting, shouldn’t we be raising a glass?” she asked, taking one of the forks.
“We’ve been raising our glasses all day. I thought we could use a change of pace.” He moved his chair so that they were sitting side by side, close enough that his elbow nudged hers. Cutting off a bite of cake, he raised it in the air like a glass. “To teamwork.”
“To teamwork.”
Louisa moved to cut her own piece of cake, intending to salute him back, only to have him press the cake to her lips before she could. “The lady should always have the first bite,” he said, his low voice.
A warm tightness moved through her as the fork slid between her teeth. Chocolate and raspberry melted on her tongue.
“Good?” he asked.
“Amazing.” She ran a tongue over her lower lip, chasing the hint of frosting that had been left behind. “Try some.”
With what could only be called a wicked smile, he did, and when the fork disappeared into his mouth, the tightness in her stomach intensified. A hint of chocolate remained on her lips. Though tempted to lick the taste away, she reached for her napkin instead. After that display, running her tongue over her lips seemed too much like answering in kind and the summer air already felt thick and stifling.
While she’d never let him know it, Nico was quite possibly the most handsome man here, even more handsome than the crown prince. Months of working outdoors had left him with a permanent tan that gave everything else about him—his smile, his eyes, his crisp white shirt—a kind of brilliance the other men couldn’t match.
Why on earth was he sitting here eating cake with her? Giving voice to her thoughts, she said, “I have to admit, I was surprised when you suggested we attend together.” Handsome, rich...she assumed he had a black book of supermodels at the ready for occasions like this.
“Made sense, did it not? We’re both here because our businesses are involved in the celebration.
“Why?” he asked with another grin. “Is there someone you would rather be sitting with?”
“Well, the best man is sort of attractive.”
“The best man is only interested in the wedding planner. Face it, bella mia,” he said, stretching an arm across the back of her chair. “I am the best offer you have.”
Another laugh bubbled its way from her chest. She must have had too much wine because his arrogance was sounding damn sexy at the moment.
The room grew quiet. “Signore e signori, his Royal Highness Prince Antonio and his bride invite you to join them in this, their final dance of the evening.”
“Wow,” she said, “last dance already? Time goes by fast.”
“Looks like my company was good after all.”
Louisa cut another bite off the cake. “Don’t get too carried away.”
“Come on, admit it.” He nudged her shoulder. “You had a good time.”
“Yeah, I did.” And for the first time in years, she meant it. This had been her first black-tie event since the divorce, and she’d feared the memories of her old life would prove too much to deal with, but Nico had proved a wonderfully entertaining companion. She was actually sorry to see the evening end.
“We need to dance,” Nico said, setting down his fork in a way that made it sound more like a command. “One doesn’t refuse an invitation from a future king.”
Apparently not. All around the room, couples were making their way to the dance floor to join Antonio and his bride, Christina. A few feet away Dani and Rafe were already wrapped in each other’s arms, as were Nico’s brother, Angelo, and his fiancée. Even Nico’s extremely pregnant sister, Marianna, was swaying to the music.
She looked back at the hand Nico was holding out. Such strong capable hands, she thought, the tightness giving way to an internal shiver. “I haven’t danced in a long time,” she warned. “Your feet might want to be prepared.”
“Consider them forewarned.”
She needn’t have worried. As soon as Nico’s arm entwined her waist, she forgot all about being rusty. Their bodies moved together like two synchronized pieces of a whole.
Nico’s