Page 41 of Ciao, Amore

Nico’s father and brothers appeared on the terrace, dressed to kill; even Tino, who hated suits, looked like a gentleman with his blond hair parted and combed neatly to the side. Nico gave him the finger from an angle Nonno couldn’t see, and Tommy laughed quietly.

The trio of musicians that had been arranged to perform started playing, the guitar, mandolin, and violin blending their soft, melodious notes. His father and his brothers waited for their wives with their shoulders set with pride; he felt sure he was the only one nervous as the women began to make their way down the stairs one by one, starting with his mother.

Patrick held up his arm for Lina to take, greeting her with a kiss on the cheek, then led her from the balcony to the terrace. Together, they went to Nonno and Nonni, Patrick shaking Nonno’s hand and Lina kissing Nonni’s cheek. They sat down at their appointed seats at the long table, small white name cards placing them opposite each other rather than side by side as was the custom. Next was Tori and Angelo, who followed the same protocol to the letter.

All the other present couples were seated. Nico smoothed down his tie, gaze fixed on the top of the stairs. This was the moment he’d been waiting for. Out of the soft darkness, Daniela appeared, and as she drew closer and the torchlights illuminated her, Nico wasn’t prepared, not one bit, for the exquisite loveliness that she presented.

The braids she’s rocked for two days had been replaced by a sleek, low bun, leaving her gorgeous face unobscured. The lush temptation of her lips was painted a dark wine. Glittering silver cloth dazzled his eyes when her dress caught the light, with a plunging neckline that teased her deep tawny-brown cleavage. The material hugged her breasts, emphasizing their fullness, and cinched at the waist to flaunt her hourglass figure. The dress ended at mid-thigh. In between the hem and her three-inch black heels, her shimmery, shapely cinnamon legs were a mile long. All she carried was a small silver clutch.

The Goddess had arrived in her full glory. And he was but a supplicant, there to worship her.

Suddenly aware that he was staring at her like the first time he’d seen her, he shut his mouth and went to her. Daniela was looking back at him, not at the others who watched with silent appreciation, at the luxury awaiting them, or the beauty of the night setting. They fell into each other’s eyes, and for Nico, everything and everyone else faded away.

He lifted her hand and gently kissed the soft skin on the back. The smile that lit up her face was more precious to him than the crystal, the china, this entire villa. He wished, with all his might, that he could explain to her how she affected him.

But they weren’t alone. Now wasn’t the time or place to tell her how he was feeling, what he was thinking, or all the ways he suddenly needed to claim her and keep her for himself.

Words failed, again. His one salvation: a retreat to the safety of humor.

“Ciao, amore. You look okay,” he murmured to her, and she laughed.

“You look okay too,” she whispered back. From the way her eyes caressed him, he knew she appreciated the effort he put into his appearance that night. “I feel like I’m dreaming.”

“If you are, we’re having the same dream.”

He bent his arm and offered it to her, burning at the light touch of her hand through his suit jacket as he escorted her down the stairs and led her to Nonno and Nonni. The row of faces they passed at the table was a blur except for Angelo’s, who winked at him. When they reached his grandparents, Nico kissed them on both cheeks, and Dani did the same. This time, Nonni’s smile at her was wide.

It took a little willpower to seat Dani in her designated chair and walk away. He suddenly hated that formal dinner-party custom. If he took over as Nonno’s heir, that’s one tradition he’d banish immediately. For now, he conformed and circled the table to sit opposite her. At least from this perspective, he’d get to stare at her and absorb her beauty all night. Who knew where it would end, judging from the way she couldn’t seem to focus on anything other than him as well?

Exercising patience until dinner was over and he could gather her in his arms on the dance floor nearby, Nico watched the next few guests enter, this time from the lower staircase. The first to appear was the deputy mayor and his wife, plus the officials from Rome, whose names he didn’t remember despite Nonno’s briefing.

When their wives were seated, one was placed next to him, and the other next to Dani, who struck up a conversation. Turns out, the wife was from the Netherlands, and she was excited to speak to Dani in Dutch.

From his seat, Nonno smiled at Dani approvingly. Nico wondered if the official’s wife was placed beside Dani because of the language connection. It was smart of him if that was the case. Watching Nonno handle these politically influential guests with ease and charm, Nico’s enthusiasm soured a little.

Doing business without their help wouldn’t be easy. If he took over the winery, he’d have to engage these people and get involved when he otherwise avoided politics, hating the prospect of having to conceal opinions they might not like. While he was a naturally friendly person, he didn’t care for the idea of taking on the public persona attached to the D’Alessio name.

Everyone invited was accounted for, but there were still two empty seats, one beside him and one next to Dani, who was taking in the table setting, the musicians, and the golden lighting with appreciation and wonder. His heart squeezed, feeling immensely proud that she was there with him. Until his eyes fell on the name card on the plate to his right.

Fuck. Just when he thought it was safe to believe the intentions tonight were good.

A few seats down and across, Angelo was staring at him, brown eyes wiped clear of humor. He jerked his chin in the direction of the lower stairs, and Nico turned to watch two people appear—a tall man with strawberry-blond hair and vibrant blue eyes and a beautiful, brown-eyed redhead. He watched as the man and woman, both near his age, made the final procession to greet Nonno and kiss Nonni, who patted the woman’s cheek, then smiled at Nico ever-so-sweetly. Then the redhead came to sit next to him, dropping into her chair and pressing her painted lips on his cheek.

“Ciao,Nico,” she greeted him.

Across the table, her handsome companion sat down and leaned in close to Dani. He grasped her hand, holding it up to his lips for a kiss while looking deeply into her eyes as if attempting to fucking hypnotize her.

As Dani looked at Nico and then the woman next to him quizzically, the woman stood up and held her hand over the table.

In perfect English, she said, “Behave, Brizio. You must be Daniela. I’m Stefania Giordano. Welcome to Italy.”

14

OLD FRIENDS, NEW PROBLEMS

DANI

It should have comeas no surprise to Dani that Stefania Giordano and her brother Fabrizio would make their appearance at some point during this trip. Nico had told her Steffi and Brizio, as he called him, had been held up by their duties at the vineyard and the winery respectively and wouldn’t be able to make the festival this year.

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