Книга The Vineyards Of Calanetti - читать онлайн бесплатно, автор Rebecca Winters. Cтраница 23
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The Vineyards Of Calanetti
The Vineyards Of Calanetti
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The Vineyards Of Calanetti

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.

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?

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

ANGELO SWIPED HIS key card and opened the suite door for Kayla. When she brushed past him, he noticed the softest scent of wildflowers. He inhaled deeply, enjoying the light fragrance as he followed her into the room, wishing he could hold on to her delicate scent just a little longer.

When she stopped short, he bumped into her. He grabbed her shoulders to steady her. She turned in his arms and gazed up at him with those big luminous green eyes. His heart pounded in his chest.

“Wasn’t the afternoon wonderful?”

Was it his imagination or was her voice soft and sultry? And was she looking at him differently? Or was it that he wanted her so much that he was projecting his lusty thoughts upon her?

He swallowed down the lump in his throat. “Yes, it was a really nice day.”

“Thank you so much for spending the day with me. I promise to pay you back.” She stood up on her tiptoes and leaned forward.

She was going to repeat their kiss. His heart pounded. His brain told him that it shouldn’t happen, but his body had other thoughts. He started to lean forward—

Buzz. Buzz. His phone vibrated in his pocket, breaking the spell.

He pulled back. After retrieving the phone from his pocket, he checked the screen. “It’s the conference call. I have to take it. Can we talk later?”

He moved to his room to take the call in private. He actually welcomed the interruption. It gave him time to figure out how to handle this change of dynamics with Kayla.

The phone call dragged on much longer than he’d anticipated. When he finally disconnected the call, he found Kayla was still in the suite working on her laptop.

He cleared his throat and she glanced up, but her gaze didn’t quite reach his. “Sorry about the interruption.”

“No problem.” Her voice didn’t hold its normal lilt. She lifted her reading glasses and rested them on her head.

As much as he’d like to pretend that the kiss hadn’t happened, he couldn’t. It was already affecting their working relationship and that was not acceptable. “I need to apologize. That kiss...back at the tree, it shouldn’t have happened. You must understand that it can’t happen again.”

“Is that what you really want?”

“Yes. No. I don’t know.” He raked his fingers through his hair. “Maybe I was wrong about this. Maybe it’d be better if you flew back to New York.”

“What?” She jumped to her feet. Her heated gaze was most definitely meeting his now.

“This isn’t going to work between us.” He glanced away, knowing he’d created this problem. “We can’t keep our hands off each other. How are we supposed to concentrate on all of the work we have to get done?”

She stepped up to him and poked him in the chest. “You’re not firing me. I won’t let you—”

“Wait. Who said anything about firing you?” He wrapped his hand around her finger, fighting off the urge to wrap his lips around it. “Certainly not me. You are very talented. Do you honestly think that I’d sack you over a kiss or two—kisses that I initiated?”

“Then what?” She pulled her finger from his hold as though she’d read his errant thought. “You don’t think you can keep your hands to yourself around me?”

“Yes... I mean, no.” He absolutely hated this feeling of being out of control—of his emotions or whatever you called it ruling over his common sense. “You confuse me.”

“How so?” Her gaze narrowed in on him. When he didn’t answer her, she persisted. “Tell me. I want to know.”

He sighed. “It’s nothing. Just forget I said anything.”

“What is this really about? It has to be about more than just a kiss.”

His gaze lifted and met hers head-on. How could she understand him so well? No other woman had ever seen the real him—they’d always been more interested in having a good time. But then again, he’d gone out of his way to hook up with women who didn’t have serious, long-term plans where he was concerned.

His strong reaction to Kayla was due to a lot more than just the kiss. She made him feel things—want things—that he had no business feeling or wanting. And the way she’d moved him with that passionate kiss hadn’t done anything to settle him. It had only made him want her all the more. What was up with that? He’d never desired a woman with every single fiber of his being. Until now.

Kayla stepped closer and lowered her voice. “Angelo, I think we’ve grown close enough on this trip that you can talk to me and know that it won’t go any further. Tell me what’s eating you up inside.”

He knew what she was after—the secrets of his past. But was he ready for that? Did he have the courage to peel back those old wounds? Was he ready to deal with her reaction? Could he stand having her think less of him?

The answer was a resounding no.

Angelo inhaled a deep breath and blew it out. He wasn’t prepared to open that door. It wasn’t as if they were involved romantically. They didn’t have a future, just the here and the now.

But there was something else...

He needed her—well...er...her help. He couldn’t do this wedding pitch alone. The admission twisted his gut in a knot. He was not a man accustomed to reaching out to others.

He made a point of being the man handing out assignments, making suggestions and overseeing operations. He was never at a loss for how to accomplish things—especially an advertising pitch. This was supposed to be his area of expertise—his specialty.

What was wrong with him? Why couldn’t he come up with a solid pitch? And what was Kayla going to think of him when he made this request? Would she think less of him?

Wanting to get it over with, he uttered, “I need your assistance.”

“What?” Her brow creased. “Of course I’ll help you. That’s what I’m here for.” She took a seat on the couch. “What do you need?”

His gaze met hers briefly, and then he glanced away. “I...I’m having issues with this pitch. Weddings and romance aren’t my thing.” That much was the truth. He avoided weddings like the plague—he always had a prior business engagement. “I thought maybe you’d have some experience with them.”

“Well, um...I have a bit of experience.” Her cheeks took on a pasty shade of white.

“You don’t look so good. I’ll get you something to drink.”

“You don’t have to wait on me. I can get it.”

She started to get up when he pressed a hand to her shoulder. “I’ve got this.”

He retrieved a bottle of water from the fridge and poured it in a glass for her. This was his fault. He’d had her gallivanting all around Monte Calanetti in the sun. She must have worn herself out.

He moved to her side and handed over the water. “Can I get you anything else?”

She shook her head. “Thanks. This is fine.”

He sat down beside her as she sipped at the water. “I’m sorry if I pushed you too hard in the village. I should have brought you back here sooner—”

“No, that’s not it. The visit was perfect. I wouldn’t have changed anything about it.” She sent him a smile, but it didn’t quite reach her eyes.

“I don’t believe you. There’s something bothering you.” He stopped and thought about it. “And it started when I mentioned the wedding pitch. Do you feel that I’m expecting too much of you?”

“That’s not it.” She placed a hand on his knee. The warmth of her touch could be felt through his jeans. “I’m just a bit tired.”

“Are you sure that’s all it is? It doesn’t have anything to do with your broken engagement?”

Her eyes widened. “That’s been over for a long time. I’ve moved on.”

Moved on? Surely she wasn’t thinking those kisses—that they’d somehow lead to something. He swallowed hard and decided it was best to change topics. “Have you made many friends since you moved to New York?”

“I haven’t had much time. But I made a few at the after-school program.” She pressed her lips together and turned away.

He was missing something, but he had no idea what that might be. “What do you do at this after-school program?”

She shrugged. “It’s no big deal. So what can I do to help you with the wedding pitch?”

“Wait. I’d like to hear more about this program. What do you do? And how do you have time?” It seemed as if she was always in the office working long hours without a complaint.

“I do what is necessary. It all depends on the day and how many volunteers show up. Sometimes I help with homework and do a bit of tutoring. Other times I play kickball or a board game.”

“You do all of that on top of the overtime you put in at the office?”

“It’s not that big of a deal.” She toyed with the hem of her top. “I don’t have anything waiting for me at home, so why not put my spare time to good use?”

“You shouldn’t dismiss what you do. There are very few people in this world who are willing to go out of their way for others. It’s impressive.”

Her eyes widened. “You really think so?”

“I do. Why do you seem so surprised?”

“It’s just that at the office you’ve banned employees from taking on charitable accounts.”

“It has to be that way.” He raked his fingers through his hair. “There are only so many hours in the workday. I write out enough checks each year to various organizations to make up for it.”

Kayla nodded, but she certainly didn’t seem impressed. Uneasiness churned in his gut. Maybe she would be more understanding if she knew the amount of those checks.

“I’m sure those organizations appreciate the donations.”

Guilt settled over him. What was up with that? It wasn’t as if he didn’t do anything. He just couldn’t afford the time to take on more accounts—especially for free. He was still working on growing Amatucci & Associates into the biggest and the best advertising firm. Speaking of which, he needed to get moving on this pitch. Time was running out before his trip to Halencia.

“I need to ask you something.”

She reached for the glass of water. “Ask away. Then I need to go check my email. I’m waiting on some responses about the Van Holsen account.”

He shook his head, thinking this was a bad idea. “Never mind. You have enough to deal with.”

She arched a thin brow at him. “You can’t back out now. You have me curious.”

He just couldn’t admit to her that he had absolutely no direction for the pitch. Three wasted days of jotting down ideas and then realizing that they were clichéd or just plain stupid—certainly nothing that he would present to the royal family.

“If it doesn’t bother you—you know, because of your broken engagement—I wanted to ask you some wedding questions.”

She reached out and squeezed his hand. “I appreciate you watching out for my feelings but talking about weddings won’t reduce me to tears. I promise. Let’s get started.”

His gaze met hers and his breath caught in his throat. He was going to have to be really careful around her or he just might be tempted to start something that neither of them was ready for. And once he got something started with her, he wasn’t sure he’d ever be able to end it when reality crashed in around them.

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