Page 27 of Ciao, Amore

“Tino and his wife Vanessa,” Nico said with a shudder. “It’s either fighting or fucking with those two. They never stop.”

Behind another, there was childish laughter and squeaking bedsprings.

“This is the boys’ nursery. And right across is the girls’ nursery. Isa hates staying with the little kids, but she won’t admit she’s scared to sleep alone. She says she thinks the villa is gloomy. Maybe even haunted. This is me,” he said when they’d reached the end of the hallway. He opened the door, and she glanced in. “I’ve got the third best suite in the place. New furniture. And you can come hang out in my private garden anytime.”

Dani went to the French doors that led to the garden and looked through the glass panes, spying the neat terrace with a pergola. The rest was probably too dark for her to see.

“Yours is over here.”

Nico took her across the hall and pushed her door open. Dani still said nothing as her gaze moved to the four-poster bed with a carved wooden frame, champagne silk damask curtains, and fluffy pillows. Instantly, he imagined her on that bed in the quiet of night, her long, beautiful body fully undressed and open to him. The way he’d kiss and caress every inch of that silky skin.

It was crazy how mere hours ago, he’d been inside her, pleasuring her, losing himself in her. He needed that to happen again, desperately. But she still wasn’t responding to him. More than he needed to feel her pulsing around him, he needed her to understand why he’d kept all this from her.

Dani’s eyes moved from the queen-sized bed to the dresser and vanity with a mirror. There was a portrait of one of the family ancestors in here—a teenage girl with curling black hair and a sweet face. She crossed the carpet to look at the en suite bathroom.

Coming up behind her, Nico saw the ornate faucet was leaking, and the basin of the princess pedestal sink was half-full of rusty water.

“Shit,” Nico muttered, trying to twist the faucet off completely, but no matter how hard he tightened it, the dripping continued. “Well,” he sighed. “The pleasures and perils of an old house.”

Dani had gone back to the dresser where his brothers had dropped off her luggage. She pulled a bag over to the wine-colored velvet bench at the foot of the bed and hauled it to rest on the surface. Zipping it open, she stared down at her things.

“I think I’m too tired to unpack,” she announced. She moved to the side of the bed instead and sat, folding her hands on her lap expectantly. “La Villa D’Alessio.This house. The people in these portraits. You guys are, like…royalty or something?”

“No. We’re not. Fernando and Patrizia had four children. We’re descended from their third son, Adriano. The eldest got the title, and Adriano got this house and the winery.”

“You said your grandfather’s name was Marco Capelli.”

“Capelli is Nonni’s maiden name. When he ended up at Columbia, he met Nonni working at a restaurant. I do remember telling you that part.”

“Yeah, I remember that. It’s why Nonno was cool with your brothers marrying non-Italians.”

“Yes, but also because he’s just cool. Anyway, when his father said, ‘hell no’ to Nonni, he also declared that if Nonno disobeyed and married her, he would no longer be allowed to call himself a D’Alessio. So, Nonno being Nonno, he went by Capelli as a ‘fuck you’ to his dad. But he’s Marco D’Alessio. My full name is Nicodemo Adriano D’Alessio Donahue. Fucking mouthful, right?”

With those lips twisted in a smirk, Dani stood up and curtsied. “It’s good to finally meet you, Duke Nicodemo Adriano D’Alessio Donahue.” Then she sat back down with a huff of air. “If Nonno was disowned, how did he inherit any of this?”

“I’m not a duke. My great-grandfather never changed his will. Nonno only has the winery because nobody else wanted it when his dad died. The only thing my great-grandfather was good at was spending his inheritance and being a prejudiced prick against my grandmother. What he was not good at was paying attention to legal details like wills. He also did not like actual work. He left everything in fucking shambles.

“This house and the winery…Nonno’s spent the last twenty-five years rebuilding all of it with no help from the others. They still don’t accept Nonni or any of us.”

“Oh.” Dani’s expression turned serious and thoughtful. “Wow. That’s a lot. And kind of a relief, because I was starting to think you guys were…”

Nico groaned. “What, the mob? No. They’re a real thing around here. And my dad’s got some shady uncles on his side of the family, but who doesn’t, right? We’re just an old name and some money, all rebuilt by the sweat of Nonno’s brow,” Nico said, shoving his hands in his pockets.

“The winery isn’t doing well, from what he indicated,” Dani surmised.

“Not because he’s mismanaging it. He’s a great businessman for a guy who originally just wanted to read and teach books. It’s the flooding, droughts, then more flooding. Don’t get me wrong, we’re doing well. We’re not billionaires, but we’re not suffering. But he’s getting older and wants to kick back and relax, not have to work so hard. That’s what he wants to talk to me about.” Nico paused, pacing a bit and mulling over this next part.

“What does he want you to do?” she asked.

“He wants me to be his heir. That’s why my mom sent me to the winery every summer, to learn the business with the intention of taking over someday. When I said I majored in Italian Studies, that was true, but I left out that I double majored in Horticultural Science. He’d like for me to take over by my next birthday when I turn thirty-five. And he wants an answer before these two weeks are up so he can begin the formal transition.”

“Okay, wow. That would mean you moving to Italy permanently?” she asked with big eyes.

“Yup. That’s always been the ultimate plan for my life. Move here, formally take the reins, become the next face of D’Alessio & Co. Get married, start a family to uphold the legacy, etcetera.” He glanced at her, and she flushed, turning her eyes to the portrait.

“All that stuff you said about not getting married or having kids. Was that for real? I mean, if that’s what’s expected of you.”

Nico flushed, thrusting his hands deeper into his pockets. What to say? That had been true when he said it, but now, what if it wasn’t true anymore? What if it was possible for him to become the right guy for the right woman and have the kids and the whole nine yards? What if?

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