As she watched Nico and Mario retrieve the fountain later that afternoon, she couldn’t help wondering if the idea reminded Nico of the kiss they’d shared. The one she’d told him to forget had ever happened. Which he apparently was having much better luck doing than she was.
Marianna’s party attracted a crowd. In addition to Dani and Rafe, who came on their day off, there were several other couples Louisa had met at Marianna’s baby shower and other events. There was Isabella Benson, one of the local schoolteachers, and her new husband, Connor, along with wedding planner Lindsay and her husband, Zach Reeves, who’d just returned from their honeymoon. Louisa chuckled to herself, remembering the jokes she and Nico had made at the royal wedding about Lindsay and Zach’s obvious adoration for each other. Even Lucia Moretti-Cascini, the art expert who’d worked on the chapel restoration and who was in town visiting her in-laws, was there. Having appointed herself the unofficial design supervisor, she sat on a stack of crates with a sketch pad while swatting away suggestions from her husband, Logan. In fact, the only person missing was the organizer herself.
Not a single person mentioned the tabloid stories or Louisa’s history in Boston. The women all greeted her with smiles and hugs, as if nothing had changed. After years of phony smiles and affection, their genuine embraces had her near tears. Only the reassuring solidity of Nico’s hand, pressed against the small of her back, kept her from actually crying. “Told you so, bella mia,” he whispered as he handed her a glass of wine.
In spite of Marianna’s absence, the work went smoothly. In no time at all, the old pieces were in place and covered with a plastic skin, ready to be decorated.
Louisa and the other women were put in charge of attaching the foliage while the men assembled the foam cutouts that would make the frame for the palazzo walls.
“This is a first,” Dani said as she pressed a grape into place.
“Hot gluing fruit to a chicken-wire nymph. Are we sure this is going to look like marble?”
“Lucia says it will, and she’s the art expert,” Louisa replied.
“Art expert. There aren’t too many museums who deal with produce.”
“They used grapes last year,” Isabella reassured them, “and it looked wonderful.”
“She’s right. I saw pictures,” Louisa said, remembering the photograph of Nico that Marianna had shown her. “Hopefully we’ll do as good a job. I’d hate to embarrass the vineyard.”
“I’m sure we won’t, and if it does turn out a disaster, Nico can always keep it locked in the garage.”
“True.” Louisa reached for a grape to glue into place only to pick up her wineglass instead. Something had been nagging her since the party began and she needed Dani’s perspective. “Did you know that as palazzo owner, I’m supposed to play the part of festival queen?” she asked as she took a drink.
“Really?”
“Nico told me it’s a tradition.”
Dani’s eyes flashed with enthusiasm. “How exciting. Do you get to ride on the back of a convertible and wave to a crowd like a beauty queen and everything?”
“I have no idea.” Although Dani had painted an image she’d rather not contemplate. “I wasn’t planning to do it at all.”
“Why not, if it’s tradition? Sounds like fun.” Dani asked. “I always wanted to be the homecoming queen, but the title always went to some tall cheerleader type.”
“I was a cheerleader.”
Her friend took a sip of wine. “I rest my case.”
“Hey, less drinking, more gluing,” Isabella said, her dark head poking over the nymph’s outstretched arm. “Do not make me come over there and take your wineglasses away.”
Chastised, the pair ducked their heads, though Dani managed to sneak one more sip. “Seriously though,” she said, reaching for the glue gun. “You should totally do it. You’d make a gorgeous festival queen.”
“I’d rather be part of the crowd,” Louisa replied. “I’ve had enough of the spotlight for one lifetime.”
“That I can understand.” Dani said, putting another grape in place. “I didn’t want to bring up a sore subject, but how are you doing? You sound a lot better than you did when I spoke to you on the phone.”
“I feel better,” Louisa answered.
“You have no idea how worried I was when I saw those headlines. Rafe told me how brutal the paparazzi can be, and I was afraid one of them might try something scary.”
“One did try,” Louisa said, “but Nico scared him off.”
“So I read in the papers. Thank goodness he showed up.”
“Thank goodness is right.” Not giving it a second thought, Louisa looked to the other side of the truck bed where he was arguing with Rafe over the foam placement. Sensing he was being watched, he looked over his shoulder and grinned.
She dipped her head before he could see how red her cheeks were. “I’m only sorry his help dragged him into the gossip pages, too,” she said to Dani, hoping her friend didn’t notice the blush either. “He’s a good man.”
“Rafe wouldn’t be his friend if he wasn’t,” Dani replied. “I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but my husband can be a little hard to please.”
“A little?” Rafe Mancini’s demanding reputation was legendary. He’d been known to toss vendors into the street for selling him what he considered subpar products.
And yet, the same chef and his wife had accepted Louisa without question. Louisa felt the swell of emotion in her throat again. Swallowing hard, she did her best to make her voice sound lighthearted “Have I told you I’m really glad we met on the bus from Florence?”
“Is this your not so subtle way of thanking me for being your friend?” Dani asked.
“Maybe.”
Her fellow American gathered her in a hug. “I’m glad we’re friends, too,” she said. “Although if you get hot glue in my hair, I will kill you.”
“And Lindsay and I will kill you both if you do not get to work,” Isabella scolded. “We are not gluing all these grapes by ourselves.”
“Jeez, I’m glad I’m not one of her students,” Dani whispered.
“I heard that.”
Louisa snorted, almost dropping the grape she was putting into place. The teasing reminded her of old times, when she and her college friends would get together and giggle over cocktails. Steven had hated that.
“You too, Louisa,” Lindsay admonished. “Just because you’re dating the boss doesn’t mean you get to slack off.”
Dating—? The newspaper photographs. Just when she thought she’d actually put them behind her. The only saving grace, if there could be one, was that at least these women didn’t consider her some kind of financial predator. Like Marianna the other day, they saw it as a potential romance. “Nico and I aren’t dating,” she told them.
“Are you sure?” Isabella asked. “Those pictures—”
“Were pictures, that’s all,” she said, cutting her off. “The two of us are just friends.”
“Sure, just like Zach and I are friends,” Lindsay replied. She and Isabella exchanged smirks.
“Something tells me the lady protests too much,” the teacher replied.
Louisa stared at the grape-covered plastic in front of her and reminded herself the women were only teasing. Nevertheless, that didn’t stop her skin from feeling as if it was on fire. Not because she was embarrassed or ashamed, at least not in the way she expected to be. She was embarrassed because they were right.
She was protesting too much.
* * *
“I didn’t realize you found the gluing of grapes so fascinating, my friend.”
Nico did his best to look annoyed at his best friend, but the heat in his cheeks killed the effort. “Checking to see how much progress they are making, that is all.”
“Not as much as there would be if you waited longer than thirty seconds between looks,” Rafe replied.
He inclined his head to where the women were laughing and topping up their wineglasses. “It’
s all right, you know. She’s a beautiful woman.”
“Who? Your wife?”
“Of course, my wife. But I’m talking about Louisa. I saw the photograph of the two of you in the newspaper. Very romantic.”
“We were at a wedding. Everything about weddings looks romantic.”
“This was different. You were looking at her like...”
“Like what?”
“I don’t know,” his friend replied honestly. “I’ve never seen you look at a woman that way.”
Perhaps because he’d never met a woman like Louisa before. “She’s different,” he said.
“Because she’s an American. They have a different kind of energy about them. It’s very...captivating.”
Captivating was a good word. He felt as though he was under a spell at times, what with the uncharacteristic moods he’d been experiencing. He could feel his friend’s eyes on him. “It’s not what you think,” he said.
“You aren’t attracted to her?”
“Of course I am attracted. Have you looked at her?”
“Then it is exactly what I think. And, if that picture is to believed, the feeling is mutual. And yet the two of you...” His friend set down the foam block he was holding to give Nico a serious look. “You are not together. Since when do you not pursue an interested woman?”
“I told you, Louisa is different.” Other women hadn’t been traumatized by an emotionally abusive Prince Charming. “She’s not the kind of woman you toy with.”
“So don’t toy.”
Rafe made it sound so easy. Problem was Nico wasn’t sure he could do anything else. “Not everyone is made for commitment like you are, my friend.”
A warm hand clapped his shoulder. “What happened with Floriana was a long time ago. People change.”
“Sometimes. Sometimes they don’t.” More often than not, they were like his parents, repeating the same mistakes over and over. With everything she’d been through, Louisa deserved better. “I’ve already broken the heart of one good woman,” he said.
“And haven’t you punished yourself enough for it?” His friend squeezed his shoulder. “You can’t be afraid to try again.”
Nico wasn’t afraid, he was trying to be kind. Rafe meant well, but he didn’t know everything. There were secrets Nico couldn’t share with anyone.
Almost anyone, he amended, eyes looking at Louisa. He’d certainly shared about his parents.
It was a moot point anyway. “You are assuming the decision is 100 percent mine to make,” he said. “Louisa is the one who is not interested. It was Louisa’s choice to keep our relationship platonic.” If she went through with selling the palazzo, they wouldn’t even have that.
“That’s too bad.”
“Yes, it is.” Why lie about his disappointment? He watched as Louisa laughed with her friends. She had her hair pulled back, and there was purple staining her fingers. Beautiful. Seeing her relaxed made him happy.
“But,” Nico said, “you can’t force emotions.” If anyone knew that, it was him.
His cell phone rang, saving him from any further rebuttals. “About time,” he said as the caller ID popped onto the screen. “It’s Ryan,” he told Rafe. “You tell my sister she better have a good reason for skipping out on her own party. The rest of us have been here for hours working on this float.”
Ryan’s reply came back garbled. The building and its terrible service. “Say it again?” he asked.
“I said, would a girl be a good enough excuse?”
“What do you mean ‘a girl’?” Nico straightened at Ryan’s announcement. “Are you talking about a real girl, as in—?”
“A baby, yes.” His brother-in-law gave a breathy laugh. “The most beautiful girl you’ll ever see. Seven pounds, nine ounces and as perfect as her mother.”
Nico’s jaw dropped. He didn’t know what to say. “Congratulations!” he finally managed to get out.
No sooner did he speak than Rafe nudged him with an elbow. “Baby?” he asked. Nico nodded, setting off a small cheer in the garage. Immediately, both Dani and Louisa dropped what they were doing to join Rafe by his side. “Boy or girl?” Louisa asked.
“A girl,” he whispered back. It was hard to believe his baby sister was a mother herself. “How is Marianna?” he asked Ryan. “Is she all right?”
“She’s fantastic. Amazing. When you see what a woman goes through to give birth...” Admiration laced every word Ryan said.
Nico felt a pang of jealousy in the face of such love and devotion. His eyes sought Louisa, who waited for details with folded hands pressed to her lips and eyes turned sapphire with anticipation. Like everyone else, her emotions showed on her face. Everyone but him, that was. His insides were numb as he struggled to process Ryan’s news.
The gulf that separated him from others in the world widened. See? He wanted to tell Rafe. People don’t always change.
He certainly hadn’t.
CHAPTER NINE
MARIANNA WORE MOTHERHOOD as though it was a designer dress. Sitting on the living room sofa of her villa, wearing pajamas and a terry cloth robe, she’d never looked lovelier. Every time she looked down at the bundle sleeping in the bassinet, her face glowed with contentment. “We named her Rosabella,” she said to Louisa, who was sitting next to her. “Rosa for short.”
“She’s beautiful,” Louisa said. As peaceful as an angel, her little lips parted in slumber. It was all Louisa could do not to run her finger along a downy cheek.
“The nurses said not to be fooled by how much she’s sleeping,” she said. “In a day or two she’ll be wanting to nurse all the time.”
“Then we’ll be wishing she’d sleep,” Ryan added. He looked as smitten as his wife.
“What do you mean, we? I’m going to be the one doing all the work. You’ll probably just roll over and go back to sleep.”
“Ah, amore mio, you know I’d help nurse if I could. It would let me bond with the baby.”
“Then it’s a good thing I bought you this,” Louisa said, reaching for the pastel pink gift bag she’d set on the floor. She’d almost said “we.” Living and working with Nico the past week had her thinking of them as a pair.
“A breast pump!” Marianna announced with what could almost be described as evil glee. “Thank you, Louisa; it’s perfect. Looks like you’ll be able to bond with the baby after all, amore mio.”
“Yes, Louisa,” Ryan said, much less enthusiastically. “It’s exactly what we needed.”
They were both exaggerating for effect. From the moment he’d learned of the pregnancy, Ryan had been determined to be as active a father as possible. Louisa had no doubt he would be awake every time no matter who did the actual feeding. She looked over at Nico, to see what he was thinking. The man had barely said a word since their arrival. In fact, he’d been unusually quiet since Ryan had called to announce little Rosa’s arrival. Currently, he stood next to the bassinet, staring down at the sleeping baby.
“She’s so tiny,” he said.
“Not for long,” Marianna replied. “She’s got her father’s appetite. Would you like to hold her, Uncle Nico?”
At his sister’s suggestion, Nico paled. “I wouldn’t want to wake her...”
“You won’t, and if she does wake up, she’ll probably fall right back to sleep. The little angel has had a busy couple of days. Haven’t you, Rosa?” Adoration beaming from every feature of his face, Ryan ran the back of his finger along his daughter’s cheek. “You might as well get used to being hands-on,” he said to Nico. “No way is your sister going to let you get out of babysitting.”
“Absolutely. With Angelo living in the States and Ryan’s family in Australia, you’re the only family she has in Monte Calanetti. Now hold her. I want a photo for her baby album.”
“Better do what your sister says,” Ryan said.
The vintner’s face was the picture of anxiety as Ryan placed the swaddled baby in Nico’s arms. Looking as if he’d rather be doing anything else, he bala
nced Rosa’s head in the palm of one hand while the other held her bottom.
“She’s not a bottle of wine,” Marianna admonished. “Hold her close. And smile. I don’t want her first memory of her uncle to be that he’s a grouch.”
“Forgive me; I’ve never held a baby before,” Nico replied. But he did what he was told.
It made for a beautiful photo. Nico with his bronzed movie-star features, baby Rosa with her pink newborn skin. Something was off, though. Louisa couldn’t say exactly what, but something about Nico’s eyes didn’t fit. For one thing, they lacked the sparkle she’d come to associate with his smiles. They looked darker—sad, even—and distant. Not unlike the way they’d looked the other day when Marianna visited.
Did his sister notice? Probably not, since the new mother was too busy directing the photo session. “Go stand next to Nico,” she ordered. “We need one of the three of you.”
“Um... You want me in your baby album?” Louisa wasn’t sure that was a good idea.
“Of course. Why wouldn’t I?” Marianna waved at her to move. “Go.”
“Sooner you do it, the sooner she’ll be done taking photos,” Nico said.
She took her place by Nico’s shoulder, and wondered if she would ever get used to being welcome. It didn’t dawn on her until after Marianna showed her the pictures on her phone that she was in her most casual clothes and not wearing a stitch of makeup. The woman smiling back at her from the view screen looked like someone she used to know a long time ago, before she ever heard the name Steven Clark. Someone she hadn’t seen in a long time. Maybe she’d stick around a little while.
Harlequin Romance February 2016 Box Set Page 11
