A Taste of Romance

by Rhonda Laurel

  “Come on in.” Trina opened the door wider. “He’s in the kitchen.”

  “And you are?” Genevieve asked.

  “Trina.”

  “Where’s Ingrid? Are you helping Marco out around the house?”

  “What kind of help do you think I’d be giving him in a dress like this?” Trina replied. “Not to mention these heels.”

  “A few things come to mind.” Genevieve squinted at her. “Where is Marco?”

  Marco approached. “Genevieve. Good to see you. I hope you have good news.”

  “Marco.” Genevieve grabbed his shoulders and kissed him on each cheek. “I always have good news for you, darling. You look absolutely gorgeous, but that’s no surprise.”

  “Thank you. When you asked for a change of venue, I thought it required a change of clothes. Shall we all sit down for dinner?”

  “All?” Genevieve said.

  “Katrina will be joining us for dinner. I hope you don’t mind. I’d like to hear her thoughts.” Marco smiled.

  “Of course, I don’t.”

  “Just think of me as Mama Paloma’s proxy.” Trina gave Genevieve her best phony smile.

  Trina didn’t want to budge from the stare down that was going on between her and Genevieve, but when she felt Marco’s hand on the small of her back, she knew it was time to get on with business.

  She listened to Marco and Genevieve’s discussion as she ate the tasty Bolognese. The man was a great cook. She was doing her best to show her good manners, but if she were home alone, she’d be curled up on the couch with a big bowl of it. Meanwhile, Genevieve took every chance she could to touch his arm or pat his hand. And with every touch, he withdrew politely and tried to drive the conversation back to business, but she was recalcitrant about it. All the while she was dropping a few vague facts about the company that was interested in Marco’s wine. Simply saying they were important people who were looking to stock premium wines wasn’t giving a good picture of the company’s intentions. Marco was already in a class by himself. He didn’t need anyone to give his vineyard a leg up.

  She wondered if Genevieve always did business this way or if she was intentionally being ambiguous to have an excuse to see him again. She’d been there for forty-five minutes and had blathered on about everything from her recent trip to South Africa to the painting she’d inherited from her dead uncle. It was all conversation filler, like she was trying to extend her time there.

  The painting from her uncle had been done by an up-and-coming impressionist who she raved about. Which was silly, in her opinion—Marco owned a Picasso. He smiled and laughed at Genevieve’s snobbish jokes, but when Trina glanced at him, he winked at her. She wondered what was behind the playful gleam in his eyes. Was he thinking about their kiss earlier? She wasn’t thinking she’d died and gone to meatball heaven, she was also pondering their lip lock. Had he felt that jolt that emanated from the pit of his stomach too?

  She wanted Genevieve out of there, but she also knew when the windbag was gone they’d be alone again, and he might want to talk about it. In her defense, she thought she’d never see him again after the tour. She’d planned on heading out to Harper’s Grove when fate stepped in the way. You didn’t just throw a sexual Molotov cocktail at someone and stay on the scene. It should have been a requirement that after anyone experienced a kiss like that, they should immediately clear the decks and reassess. She’d be liable to do something like sleep with the man if she wasn’t careful. The gorgeous man who set her pulse racing, smelled great, and had a tight ass like a marathon runner.

  She looked over at Genevieve. It was time for her to wrap up the pleasantries and get down to business.

  “Marco,” Trina said. “Everything is so delicious.”

  “I agree. You’ve outdone yourself,” Genevieve chimed in with a Cheshire cat-like grin.

  “It was a group effort. Katrina helped.”

  Trina bit back a smile when Genevieve’s smiled slipped. “I made the salad. Marco has full credit for the main dish and the wine, of course.”

  Genevieve put her fork down and took a long sip of wine, making it obvious she’d stopped raving about the food once she knew Trina had helped. A minute later, Genevieve picked up the conversation again.

  “How’s your mother?” Genevieve plastered her phony smile back on.

  “Wonderful. She’s enjoying her visit home and bickering with her sisters.”

  “Mama Paloma sounds feisty,” Trina chimed in.

  “She is a force to be reckoned with.” Marco laughed.

  “Genevieve.” Trina wiped her mouth with her linen napkin. She was getting tired of the woman’s stalling tactics. “What type of clientele are they going to cater to?”

  “Excuse me?” Genevieve glanced from Trina to Marco.

  “She asked a valid question.” Marco looked at Trina.

  Trina put her napkin on her lap. “I can’t see Paloma Vineyards wines in some all-you-can-eat joint or some mid-range family restaurant where you give the kids crayons to color on their placemats before the food arrives. You say the investors are still trying to narrow down a market, but it sounds more like they’re fishing for stellar brands to be locked into their business plan and that will polish their proposal. It shouldn’t be the other way around.”

  “These people are new to the industry, but they have a lot of capital which means lots of potential for the winemakers in this area. I hardly think them not having a finite business plan is a reason not to come onboard.”

  “Are you Marco’s friend or business associate? Because Marco brings to the table the stellar reputation of the winery, not to mention being stocked in fine establishments like the Slap Shot and Blake Hotels.”

  Wow. She really had been listening during the tour.

  “I like to believe I’m a bit of both.” Genevieve put her hand on his. “We’ve known each other for ages. I know he’s very discerning about who sells his wine, but that doesn’t mean I can’t come over and try to tempt him. Paloma is an excellent, award-winning wine. Of course, people want it on their wine lists.”

  “I appreciate that.” Marco pulled his hand away. “I do. But Katrina’s right. I do need to know more about these people. Is there any material I can read?”

  “I have something in the car.” Her eyes widened. “You’ve always trusted my word in the past.”

  “And I should have been doing my due diligence. It’s time that changed.”

  “Marco’s thoroughness is beneficial to you both,” Trina added. “I’d hate for a bad deal to undermine the faith the wine growers in this area have in you, Genevieve. Would you like some dessert?”

  “No, thanks, I think I’ve had enough—” Genevieve took her time wiping each corner of her mouth, “—for the evening. I think it’s time I go.”

  “I’ll walk you out,” Marco said to her.

  “Thank you.” Genevieve smiled at Marco, then turned to Trina. “Good night, Trina. I hope you enjoy the rest of your visit, however short it may be.”

  “I’m sure I will. I don’t know, there’s something about this place that makes me want to stay forever.” Trina let out an exaggerated sigh. “Good night, Genevieve.”

  As Marco escorted Genevieve out, she decided it was a good time to clean up. She put cannoli on a dessert plate, then went over to Marco’s wine confident she could select a dessert wine he’d approve of. She’d uncorked the wine and had poured them each a glass by the time he returned.

  “I think that went well.” Marco put some documents on the table. “She didn’t have much, but it’s a start. I can research the company for myself.”

  “I’m glad to see she actually had something to show. I honestly thought she was bluffing.” She sighed. “I hope I didn’t overstep. I know you have history, but she still should have been able to give you a portfolio on this group.”

  “Not at all. I liked your direct questions. You are one sharp cannoli.” He held up the pastry and took a bite.

  “T
hank you.” She laughed. “Hey. Do you think you’d have some time to show me around in the morning before I go? I made it as far as the bakery in town, but I’d love to see more.”

  “I would love to, but I have to get things settled down at the winery. Another employee is under the weather.”

  “Oh.” She bit her lip. It was a shame. She wanted to spend more time with him. “Well, it was a silly idea. I thought maybe I could take you to lunch or something as a thank you for putting up with me the past two days. You took time out of a hectic schedule to host me.”

  “It was my pleasure. And don’t forget, Giuseppe did most of the heavy lifting.” He grinned. “Don’t tell me you’ve forgotten about him already?”

  “Not a chance. He’s handsome, charming, and has a great sense of humor. Giuseppe is a triple threat.” She laughed.

  “I think I’m starting to miss him too.” Marco laughed too.

  “Still, I wish there was something I could do.”

  “Well.” He gripped the wineglass by the stem. “There is something you could do with me before you leave…”

  “What?” She swallowed hard.

  He flashed her an enigmatic smile and had a gleam in his eye. If this was an indecent proposal, she’d be hard-pressed to think about it. Counting to five Mississippi’s before leaping into his arms and kissing him passionately would be a respectable amount of time.

  He leaned in and took her hand. A warmth spread over her fingers as he caressed the spot between her thumb and index finger. “I’m a little short staffed with the newlyweds out of town. I have tastings, tours, and parties scheduled all week. Do you think you could stay tomorrow and help out?”

  “Oh.” She blinked, trying to temper her randy thoughts. Looked like her virtue was safe tonight. And he was apparently over that kiss. He hadn’t mentioned it once before Genevieve showed up. “I don’t know what I could do.”

  “Anything you want. What’s important is that you’re there,” he said in a seductive tone.

  “I could answer phones or stock the bar. I did some waitressing in college,” she said. “And it would help me get my mind off some things.”

  “The things that made you leave Los Angeles?”

  “Yes.”

  “How can I refuse that?” He moved closer to her.

  She’d stick around another day. It would be worth it to see why he had this effect on her. She hardly knew him, yet being here with him felt so intimate and familiar. “You will see that it can be beneficial having me around.”

  “I already know that. My day was much brighter when I woke up this morning.” He caressed her cheek.

  “Well, that settles that. I will call Alex and let him know.” She pulled her hand away and took a sip of the rich, flavorful port. “This is delicious. It complements the cannoli really well.”

  “It’s one of my favorites.” He picked up the glass and inspected the label. “It pleases the palette.”

  “Sounds good. Let’s clean up.” She picked up a plate.

  He stood too. “No. You go relax. I’m sure you have phone calls to return.”

  “I can’t let you do all the cleanup.”

  “Cleaning helps me think.” He tapped his temple.

  She turned to leave, but he encircled his fingers around her wrist.

  “Are we going to talk about what happened earlier by the Kissing Fountain?”

  “I was running interference. Those biddies had you in their crosshairs all morning, and I just couldn’t let that happen.”

  “You sound very strong in your convictions. Perhaps you were jealous of their designs on me?”

  She could hear the thudding of her heart in her ears. He was waiting for an answer, and she wasn’t sure what to say.

  She glanced at her watch and backed away. “Look at the time. I have to get to bed if I’m to report to work in the morning. What time should I be ready?”

  “I have to be there early. How does nine o’clock sound?”

  “OK. Buona notte.” She leaned in and kissed him on the cheek. “Did I say that right? That means goodnight, right?”

  “Yes, it does.” He smiled. “Buona notte, Katrina.”

  She smiled as she took the back staircase upstairs. She’d read an article earlier in the day on popular Italian words, and it had paid off. She knew learning a bit about his language was instrumental to knowing him better and that it would put a smile on his face.

  She’d kissed him at first to scare off the women, but as soon their lips connected, it became something else. She’d been sifting through that in anticipation for his arrival home when he came in talking about entertaining Genevieve. Which got her blood boiling even more. How many women circled around the vineyard hoping to snare him? If he was in such high demand, what chance did she have of getting to know him better? The last thing she wanted to be was some temporary fling for a playboy. No matter how gorgeous he might be. Now all she had to do was convince her heart that their toe-curling kiss meant nothing. That was going to be difficult because it was the most excited she’d been about a man in a long time.

  CHAPTER SIX

  Marco stopped strolling down the pathway to pluck a grape off the vine. It was a beautiful sunny day, and it seemed like a good idea to take a walk to the top of the sloping mountain behind the winery. From there he could see all the Paloma vines as well as the lush greenery of the surrounding properties. He’d gazed at the idyllic scenery a thousand times before, but today, for some reason, he felt even more grateful for the view.

  The grapes were looking good this year, and he was confident by the time of the harvest they would yield a good profit. These were good things, but instead of being happy about the crops, his thoughts were on Trina. It had been two days since she’d been helping out at the winery, and although she was a great help to the staff, she was a huge distraction to him. She was eager to learn, and she seemed to be enjoying herself. When the end of the day came, he’d asked her to stay again, for the sake of the keeping the winery workflow even of course, and she agreed. But in his heart, he knew he just wanted more time with her.

  He knew she’d be fine, as he’d witnessed with her handling of Genevieve the other night. She was voracious and stayed on topic, something Genevieve definitely didn’t like. He’d fallen victim to Genevieve mixing business with pleasure in the past, but the other night she was forced to remain as professional as she could or look like someone trying to use her charms to evade not being well-versed about her new clients. Genevieve could be quite alluring, and it was delightful at times, but it was also the same thing that turned him off. He couldn’t trust that the flirting was truly genuine. He’d decided eons ago it was just safer to stay away.

  Trina, on the other hand, was a whole different story. It had been a long time since he’d gotten lost in his thoughts about a woman. Trina didn’t think it was ridiculous that he lived with his mother—she said it was sweet. She knew the value of family. He’d seen the same trait exhibited in all the members of her extended family. She was obviously close to her sisters, cousins, and she loved her Grandma Reed to pieces. It was refreshing to meet someone who didn’t think it was clingy to have close relations with loved ones.

  But now there was a sense of urgency growing within him. He desired her and had spent his nights awake thinking about her sleeping right down the hall. He loved the way she hummed in the house and enjoyed their conversations while they prepared dinner together. Her presence was becoming familiar, and he enjoyed it.

  When he returned to the tasting room, Trina was with Portia, who was wrapping up another tour. He went inside but stood in the back watching as she helped Portia keep a steady flow as they filled glasses and talked with the guests. She was bubbly, chatty, and had just the right personality for the job.

  She looked up at him and waved. He smiled and waved back. As the guests filtered out, he picked up the cocktail napkins and plates that were strewn about.

  “Hey, Marco.” Portia beamed.


  “Ladies. How did the training go today?”

  “Portia is a dynamo. She’s great at wrangling a crowd and quite informative.” Trina put the tasting bottles back behind the bar. “There’s so much to learn.”

  “Portia’s one of my best workers, and she’s a second-generation expert sommelier.” He winked at Portia. “Her mom worked here too for a long time before she retired a few years ago.”

  Portia laughed. “Mom passed the torch to me. I knew the difference between a Zinfandel and a Merlot before I knew my ABC’s.”

  “Wow. That’s impressive,” Trina replied. “You’ve lived in the area all your life?”

  Portia nodded. “A lot of people who work here live in the area. We just kind of stick around.”

  “I can imagine. It’s peaceful here. Who’d want to leave?” Trina smiled.

  “Well, it’s not quiet on Thursdays. We have live music in the evening. It’s a blast.”

  “Trina’s a singer,” Marco blurted out. “She has a CD releasing soon.”

  “Really?” Portia exclaimed. “What type of music?”

  “Rhythm and blues. But I like to sing other genres like gospel, pop, and jazz. I started out in my church’s choir.”

  “Trina is a wonderful singer,” Marco said. “She has the voice of an angel. I have no doubt she’ll get another shot. Timing is everything.” He winked at her.

  “I can’t believe we have a celebrity here,” Portia gushed.

  “No celebrity.” Trina held up her hands. “I was lucky enough to get a contract. Time will tell how far I am able to go with it.”

  “She’s just being modest,” Marco replied. He wasn’t going to let her sell herself short.

  Trina turned to him. “We have a break. Would you mind running an errand with me?”

  “Anything for you.”

  “I was thinking. Maybe I should return that rental car. It seems silly to keep it this long, and I’m just a stone’s throw away from your house. There’s a return center in town.”

  “I’ll follow you to the car rental company.”

  They drove the few miles to the rental car company and turned in the convertible. She was a little sad to see it go, but driving around in Marco’s Range Rover would be a nice consolation. As she nestled into the bucket seat of his Ferrari and fastened her seat belt, she instinctively reached for the radio dial.