All she wants is a taste…

But can she resist wanting more?

Alessandra Baroni has had her fill of American men. So arrogant. Like handsome-as-the-devil Dante Donato, who’s determined to buy back the winery his family once owned—even if it means playing deliciously dirty! But Dante has met his match in Alessandra. Now the stakes are getting wicked…and with this much heat even the coldest of hearts is in danger of falling hard.

ALEXX ANDRIA is a USA TODAY bestselling romance author who writes about bad boys with a tough exterior but a soft, warm heart deep down. She loves sweet but dirty romance with lots of witty banter and, of course, sizzling scenes in the bedroom (or kitchen…or wherever they happen to end up) and a guaranteed HEA.

Decadent

Alexx Andria

www.millsandboon.co.uk

ISBN: 978-1-474-08688-2

DECADENT

© 2019 Kimberly Sheetz

Published in Great Britain 2019

by Mills & Boon, an imprint of HarperCollins Publishers 1 London Bridge Street, London, SE1 9GF

All rights reserved including the right of reproduction in whole or in part in any form. This edition is published by arrangement with Harlequin Books S.A.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, locations and incidents are purely fictional and bear no relationship to any real life individuals, living or dead, or to any actual places, business establishments, locations, events or incidents. Any resemblance is entirely coincidental.

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Version: 2020-03-02

MILLS & BOON

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My deepest gratitude and appreciation goes out to Pat and Lori Dodd, for their gracious help (and lovely hosting of our Italian dinner) in building the foundation behind my fictitious winery, Castello di Baroni. Your help and expertise in both the wine industry and the Italian way of life was invaluable in crafting this book. You provided a treasure trove of information that was tactile, tasty and educational that I will never forget.

Any mistakes are my own, and no reflection of the generous information shared.

Thank you so much!

Contents

Cover

Back Cover Text

About the Author

Title Page

Copyright

Dedication

Quote

CHAPTER ONE

CHAPTER TWO

CHAPTER THREE

CHAPTER FOUR

CHAPTER FIVE

CHAPTER SIX

CHAPTER SEVEN

CHAPTER EIGHT

CHAPTER NINE

CHAPTER TEN

CHAPTER ELEVEN

CHAPTER TWELVE

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

CHAPTER NINETEEN

CHAPTER TWENTY

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

EPILOGUE

About the Publisher

“Inside my soul a treasure is buried.

The key is mine and only mine.

How right you are, you drunken monster!

I know: the truth is in the wine.”

(“The Unknown Lady”)

—Alexander Blok

CHAPTER ONE
Dante

“YOU CAME A long way for nothing. As I told your father previously, Castello di Baroni isn’t for sale, nor will it ever be.” Alessandra Baroni, sole living heir to the centuries-old Tuscan winery, wasn’t pleased. But out of courtesy, she sat stiffly through my requested meeting.

“In my experience, everything and everyone has a price,” I returned, undeterred. I wouldn’t back down. I was leaving Italy with the deed to this historic winery, one way or another.

The green-eyed beauty narrowed her gaze. “Your presumption that my position might change with a face-to-face was a waste of both our time. I am a busy woman, Mr. Donato. I do not have the luxury of idle conversation.”

I took my time before saying, “For a winery steeped in tradition and generational heritage… I am surprised a woman is at the head of the business table.”

Her eyes flashed but whatever temper flared, she kept reined in. A slow smile followed, which seemed far more dangerous. “Careful, Mr. Donato…one might accuse you of being a misogynist.”

He’d been called worse.

Her Italian accent flavored her impeccable English, giving an otherwise sharp rebuke an exotic flair.

I smiled with amusement. Even with the influence of modern thinking, the wine business remained stubbornly patriarchal—particularly in Italy. The majority of wineries privileged enough to earn the right to place a Chianti Classico label on their vintage were controlled by men. That black rooster seal was an exclusive membership with rigid rules.

The fact that Alessandra had managed to find her footing among those in the Good Ol’ Boys Club was a feat not lost on me. In another time, I might’ve enjoyed watching Alessandra square off against the old men, pressing for change, but I didn’t have the luxury of such entertainment.

I came for business and a win.

“My father is a stubborn man and he’s set his sights on Castello di Baroni, not that I can blame him now that I’ve made the trip. The property and the working vineyard are exquisite.” Much like Alessandra herself. “You should be proud.”

“Flattery is a waste of your time, too. We are not selling.”

The woman was intractable. I liked it. A flare of excitement started in my gut. It’d been a long time since I’d had a worthy adversary. Boredom had a way of dulling the edge. I’d have to be on my game with Alessandra.

As stunning as she was—green eyes and dark hair always caught my attention—she neither flaunted nor flirted. She simply held her ground with quiet, if not annoyed, confidence.

Definitely a worthy opponent, even if she had no idea that Donatos played to win.

“I’m sure you’re aware my family built this very castle you call home,” I said, drawing on personal history, showing that I’d done my homework before arriving. I’d always known, in a peripheral manner, that my family’s roots were firmly planted in rich Italian soil and that at one time, we’d been premier winemakers before branching off into different fields. Since my father’s retirement, he’d been keen to return to his roots.

Thus, his interest in the winemaking business.

Of course, he wanted Castello di Baroni back in the family fold, seeing as this old castle had given birth to our legacy.

If only our ancestors hadn’t sold sometime in the seventeenth century.

“Yes, I am aware,” Alessandra said, her tone cool. “Many centuries ago. Much has happened between these old walls since your family was a part of its existence.”

“I’m sure you can understand how my family would feel that it rightfully belongs with the Donato name.”

“I do not.”

I smiled. “Although I feel it’s more than the property is worth, we are prepared to double our original offer.” I jotted an exorbitant number on a piece of paper and slid it toward her, chuckling as I said, “My father is very keen to have this property back.”

Alessandra didn’t even look at the offer as she slid the paper back toward me. “And as I already stated, numerous times, it is not for sale, no matter the amount you scribble on your little paper,” she said, her lip curling with subtle scorn. “Americans think that everything has a price—but what you have forgotten is that some things have no price. They are, indeed, priceless.”

I disagreed. “Nothing is priceless. Everything has a price. The question is, how far is one willing to go to find it?”

Her jade eyes darkened as her gaze narrowed. “You are an arrogant man.”

“Confident,” I corrected with a small smile.

She shrugged. “Semantics. Whereas you self-evaluate and come up with confidence, I see arrogance.” Alessandra took a moment to carefully pour a glass of wine from her Riserva vintage. “You see, Mr. Donato, you are not the first businessman to approach Castello di Baroni with an offer to purchase and you won’t be the last. We have survived lean years and we have thrived in fat years, but always we prevail. The quality of our wine is unsurpassed. Our wines have graced the tables of royalty and dignitaries. We are not quick to boast but our success speaks for itself. While others might be flattered by your persistence, I am irritated by your refusal to listen. The answer is an emphatic no.”

I carefully lifted the wineglass to my lips to savor the full-bodied red, rolling it around on my tongue for a brief second before agreeing that the wine was superb. However, I said, “You think highly of your product but perhaps you overestimate its appeal. While Castello di Baroni may have been a favorite of the royals for a time, it is my understanding that Antinori Tignanello has been the most recent royal favorite as of late.”

She laughed. “You imply that we have fallen out of favor? Nonsense. Our labels remain on the aristocratic preferred list. Truly, is that your big play? To prey upon our vanity?” Alessandra tsked as if disappointed. “I had thought that someone of your business acumen would bring more of a challenge. I see I was wrong.” She rose, looking the picture of fire and grace in all of her petite stature. “Please enjoy your glass. Before you leave, perhaps you’d like to visit our gift shop to bring home a lovely bottle for your beloved father as he loves our wine so much.”

Alessandra left me in the great hall of the historic castle to attend to business more pressing than mine. Not by accident, I was given a knuckle-biting view of her near-perfect heart-shaped ass as she exited the room. The woman was sharp and cunning, which was an intriguing and welcome surprise.

Clearly, my father had underestimated Alessandra Baroni when he’d sent me to a castle in the middle of Tuscany to retrieve his latest interest.

I took the time to enjoy the wine while I surveyed the rough-hewn yet solid craftsmanship of the great room, silently appreciating that it’d stood the test of time this long.

The financial burden of the castle’s and vineyard’s upkeep was probably substantial. It didn’t seem as if the Baroni family was struggling to keep the lights on. The keep was well-maintained and there didn’t seem any overt signs of financial distress, which would explain why Alessandra hadn’t blinked an eye at the ridiculous sum of money my father was prepared to offer for this place.

So, if money wasn’t the carrot I needed to dangle in front of her…what bait could I use to entice her to take the offer?

I needed to do more research. I’d broken my own cardinal rule: never come to a negotiation without knowing everything about your opponent.

I’d wrongly assumed that I could persuade Alessandra with a little charm and a lot of money.

I rubbed my chin. A man would have to be blind to miss how stunning she was but I saw no ring on her finger. Even the prettiest face and hottest body was no match for a sharp-tongued woman. My interest in being nagged at for the rest of my life was dimmer than a dying bulb, but most men weren’t as smart as me. My brothers, for example, had already lost the battle when they’d married, ceding defeat with smiles on their faces. That wasn’t going to be my fate. But I did find it interesting that Alessandra remained unspoken for in a country that still observed a definite edge in favor of the men. The battles she must face on an everyday basis… I mused with reluctant fascination.

Which is likely why she shut me down so quickly and without batting an eye. I grinned in spite of my embarrassing fail. Talk about an inglorious smackdown of epic proportions.

No worries. I welcomed the challenge. It’d been a long time since I’d felt useful or needed. My older brother, Luca, had the family business, Donato Inc., well in hand, which left me to trot after him, suffocating in his shadow.

Father had given me this opportunity to bring home something of great personal value to the Donato family and I wouldn’t fail.

Alessandra…get ready to see what tangling with the Donato family will get you.

I chuckled as I exited the great hall.

She was going to wish she’d taken the offer.

CHAPTER TWO
Alessandra

THE NERVE OF AMERICANS.

Dante Donato reeked of arrogance like a smoking jacket smelled of cigar smoke. Of all the offers thrown our way to purchase the winery and its operations, none had been as condescending as Donato’s.

He thought he could walk into my house, smugly throw down a wad of cash and walk away with my family’s legacy as easily as shipping a case of wine.

I smirked at the raw audacity. He had balls, I would give him that.

Handsome as the devil, too. Hair as dark as sin and eyes that sparkled like the ocean after a hard rain, he was built with all the thick swagger of his Italian ancestors but he carried the height of a Viking. Although I stood only to his chest level, he did not intimidate me. I’d faced off with worse than Donato men and I was still here.

It was too bad Dante was such a prick. I think I would have enjoyed him in my bed. It’d been a while since I’d taken a lover and by the looks of him, Dante could satisfy the appetite growling inside me. I sighed with disappointment and a little frustration as I headed for the business office.

In the past I’d invited Como to my bed but I’d stopped when I realized he had difficulties separating feelings from simply satisfying each other’s needs.

And we worked together, so that further complicated matters that I didn’t need right now. So much was riding on our newest Chianti, Uva Persa, that I didn’t have time to entertain distractions of any kind.

Made from tenerone grapes, a lost variety that had only recently been brought back from oblivion, lovingly and carefully cultivated from ancient vineyards, Uva Persa was my baby, my triumph, and I couldn’t allow anything to stand in the way of my success.

I was funneling every dime I personally had into the launch of this wine but it was much more than simply a new venture. I was taking a huge chance, risking not only my personal finances but also my family’s reputation as classic vintners with a name that went back for generations.

Our wines remained under the Chianti Classico label, adhering to the strict criteria that 80 percent of the blend was from Sangiovese grapes—though I was one of the more vocal advocates for expanding the criteria—but sales were static and barely holding steady.

That would all change as soon as I launched Uva Persa.

But innovation came slowly, particularly with the old guard. When I’d first broached the subject of purchasing land to plant the tenerone grapes, my father, Sergio, had shut the idea down quickly.

“It’s a risk we don’t need to take,” he’d said, rubbing chopped garlic on his bread before dipping it in the fragrant olive oil. “There’s no need. The Classico Riserva remains strong. We should stick to what we know, safer that way. Why take risks when we don’t have to?”

“But, Papa, the future is in the lost grapes. Resurrecting the ancient varietals will give us that edge we need in the coming market,” I’d insisted, frustrated by my father’s lack of vision. “Please, one small investment is all I’m asking for. The Castello di Baroni brand can withstand the hit but we need to make the leap now. I have the opportunity to purchase—”

“No.”

“Papa! You are being stubborn and pigheaded! I’m looking toward the future of Castello di Baroni and you’re content to live day to day. That’s not how to sustain a business in this new market. It’s not like it was when you were young. Please trust me in this and let me make the purchase.”

My father dusted his hands on the linen napkin, shaking his head, not willing to budge.

We argued for hours but he’d only dug his heels in harder. I wasn’t going to convince Sergio Baroni to change his mind, and at the time I couldn’t make the purchase without my father’s approval.

If it hadn’t been for my nonno, I might not have taken the chance.

With my grandfather’s help, I’d made that small investment but it’d taken everything I had. If I failed… I not only risked my father’s respect after going against his wishes and making a decision he’d been dead set against, but I could lose my seat as Castello di Baroni’s CEO.

I swallowed the sudden lump in my throat and smoothed the nervous jitter in my stomach.

Dante had touched on a small truth. Baroni wines hadn’t been selected for any recent dinners with heads of state and country, but these things were fluid and at any given moment we could be back in the most prestigious cellars. I tried not to worry that my predictions for our brand had come to fruition, but my fears added to my heightened anxiety. Donato showing up with his frivolous offer was an irritant to my already raw nerves.

I rounded the corner to find Como scowling behind his desk. “Is he gone?” he asked.

I didn’t pretend ignorance. “I left him in the great hall. I have no idea if he has left the premises. I have work to do. I cannot spend all my time sparring with an arrogant American.”

“Is it true his family built these walls?”

I shrugged. “So he says.”

“And why now? Why is he sniffing around right when we are about to launch our biggest accomplishment? Perhaps he is a spy for another winery.”

I laughed at Como’s suspicion. “He is no spy. He is an entitled American who feels he can throw money at any problem or challenge. I disabused him of this notion.”

“I do not trust him. He has shifty eyes.”

I disagreed. Dante’s eyes were magnificent—they smoldered with cool heat. The stormy blue was mesmerizing but I didn’t share my observation with Como. The last thing I needed was Como getting jealous. “How are we on production?” I asked, going straight to business.

“We are on track,” Como said, but he was still grousing about the American. “You don’t take this threat seriously. I sense he is not one to give up easily. You should’ve thrown him from the property to send a stronger message that he is not welcome.”

What Como found most threatening was that where Como was long and lanky in build with a strong hawk nose, Dante was built like a soldier, molded with muscle and brawn. Even that designer suit couldn’t hide that hard form. I smothered a shiver. I was willing to bet that in bed, Dante was an animal. Just the kind of lover I craved. I returned my attention to Como, snapping my fingers with irritation. “Stay on task, Como. Just because we operate out of a castle does not mean we keep medieval ways. We don’t toss the distasteful from the ramparts. We send them on their way with our compliments. Better for business.”

Como nodded, grudgingly admitting I was right. “You do your family proud. You are so smart and wise. And beautiful.” Como’s gaze warmed and I exhaled with a slight shake of my head.

His last comment only cemented my decision to keep things professional between us. Como had been a competent lover but mostly convenient. In spite of ending our sexual relationship more than a year ago, he still held out hope that I would change my mind about wanting more—which I wouldn’t—and he followed me like a puppy.

Bad judgment and sexual frustration make for terrible bedfellows. Como’s endless unrequited-love sorrow was annoying, but out of deference for our long friendship and business relationship, I tolerated his overtures while avoiding any physical contact.

However, my patience was at its end. I turned to face him, my expression stern. “Como, we are no longer lovers,” I reminded him. “We agreed that we were better as friends.”

“No, I never agreed,” he said with a frown. “You made a decision and expected me to simply fall in line. I understood your reasoning, and with the strain of Uva Persa hanging on your shoulders, I realized it was better to go along with your decision. But soon we launch and the stress will no longer weigh you down, freeing you to see that you and I are a perfect team. I am a patient man and you are worth waiting for.”

My stomach knotted, not for the first time, at Como’s self-assuredness of his belief, which was wrong on so many levels. I glared with frustration. “You are not patient. You are stubborn.”

“You will come around,” Como said with a cockiness I found unattractive on him. “No one knows you as I do.”

“You do not know me as well as you think if you believe I enjoy being patronized,” I said coolly, and Como stiffened at the rebuke. “You are a valuable member of my staff and I appreciate your talents on a business level but do not mistake me. If you continue to pursue this dangerous line of thinking it will not only ruin our friendship but our working relationship, as well.”

“You would fire me?” Como asked, surprised.

“If you continued to force my hand.”

Como held my gaze as if trying to ascertain whether I was serious or bluffing. If he knew me as well as he claimed, he would know I didn’t bluff. The fact that we were having this conversation, after I’d already settled the matter, created no small amount of heartburn. He was right in that Uva Persa was weighing on my shoulders with all the unwieldy grace of an elephant, but the day would never come that I invited Como back into my bed. I never made the same mistake twice.

“No one will ever love you the way I do,” Como said, his lips disappearing as his frown deepened into a scowl. “No one will understand your burdens as I do.”

Como truly believed his own conviction and because he was a good man, I softened a little. “Perhaps,” I conceded for the sake of his ego. “But I am not the woman for you. I would only bring you misery. Please, let us put this tiresome argument to rest and return to what we are truly good at together.”

I would never beg but I didn’t want to lose Como as a friend or as a trusted business ally. He’d been my right hand for so many years and I didn’t want to lose him over something as stupid as misplaced affections.

After a long tense moment, Como jerked a short nod to indicate we could move on and I breathed a secret sigh of relief. Hopefully, this conversation was well and truly done. Moving quickly to business, I tapped the desk, saying, “I need to go over the contracts for the campaign. Would you please have them sent to my office?”

“Of course.”

Grateful to be back on course, I left Como and headed for the grounds. I liked to be visible in all areas of production, from the business side to the agricultural. But when I walked the grounds, the fresh air tickling my nose, the cypress trees swaying in the breeze, I felt closest to Enzo.

My twin brother, my touchstone, was the one who’d been enamored with the winemaking business. He’d had so many plans, so many hopes and dreams.

It was Enzo who had first mentioned the legacy of the lost grapes. At the time, I’d listened to him talk about the possibility of resurrecting ancient varietals but it’d seemed a fantasy, something to dream about. Enzo had been sure that it was a possibility and he was going to try to make it happen when he was old enough.

But my brother never got the chance. When he died in an auto accident at sixteen, a part of me died with him. Twins share a bond that is hard to explain.

Enzo would’ve been a premier winemaker—his love for the business had been unparalleled. I was but Enzo’s weak imitation, but I swore to his memory that I would never let Baroni wines fail. They would thrive in his honor.

Uva Persa would be our crowning achievement. Only Nonno knew what I’d been through to cultivate my secret vineyard, and he kept my secret, but the pressure to succeed was nearly crushing me.

Even after carefully selecting the property to grow the tenerone—testing the soil, checking for acidity and appropriate climate, tending to the vineyard as it finally yielded fruit—it’d taken three years for the wine to mature and it was finally ready for its debut.

So when Donato came around making offers, what he didn’t know was that there was no amount I would ever accept. I would never shame Enzo’s dream by selling—much less selling to an American.

Donato would just have to find another winery to purchase for his collection.

Castello di Baroni would never be for sale.

CHAPTER THREE
Dante

ALESSANDRA EXPECTED ME to leave the grounds. Given her curt refusal to entertain my substantial offer, it wasn’t surprising that she gave me little thought after leaving me in the great hall.

But I wasn’t ready to leave.

Maybe I’d play tourist and check out the gift shop. I needed to poke around, get a more accurate idea of what I was dealing with. I couldn’t think of a better way to get information than playing the part of a tourist within Castello di Baroni walls.

With a final appreciative glance around the great hall—my father would dig the whole king of the castle vibe the room gave off—I headed for the gift shop.

It was easy enough to find, and I stepped inside with a friendly smile and a disarming disposition for the attractive woman manning the counter. Unlike my brothers, I wasn’t one to use the Donato charm to get what I wanted, but I liked to win and I wasn’t above using whatever tools I had at my disposal.

“Welcome to Castello di Baroni,” she said with a sweet Italian accent and a welcoming smile. “My name is Mia. May I interest you in a sample today?”

“Pleasure to meet you, Mia. I’m Dante. What are you pouring?” I asked, feigning curiosity.

“Well, Dante, you’re in for a treat,” Mia said, retrieving a small tasting glass. “Today we have a bottle of Castello di Baroni’s Chianti Classico. Our wines have been served on royal tables since the seventeenth century.”

“That’s quite a claim,” I said.

“And completely verifiable,” she said, eyes sparkling. “But once you taste our wines, you’ll understand why Castello di Baroni is a premier choice for discerning palates.”

I accepted the glass and swirled the dark burgundy before burying my nose to appreciate the notes rising from the glass. With a short smile, I took a sip. It was good. Not quite as good as the Riserva Alessandra had shared earlier but still quite good. It was easy to see why Castello di Baroni was a solid label.

My father would enjoy having the label in his collection.

But first, I had to bring it home. “Excellent,” I said, smiling as I pretended to be in awe of the grounds.

“We offer shipping to anywhere around the world,” Mia said, fishing for a sale. “Having a Baroni wine on the table is a guaranteed conversation starter.”

“I can imagine,” I mused, savoring the wine. I took a moment to peruse the shop, making sure my gaze returned to the large open window with the gorgeous view of the grounds. “Incredible. The history within these walls… I’m overwhelmed by everything.”

She nodded, pleased that I was impressed. “Is this your first trip to Italy?”

“Actually, yes,” I answered, stretching the truth a bit. I’d been to Italy for business but I’d never played the tourist. Most of my time in Italy had been spent in boardrooms or hotel bars. I’d spent precious little time enjoying the visual treats the country was known for. “I’m so glad I stumbled on this place. It’s simply stunning. A working winery with such deep roots…pretty amazing.”

Mia was happy to chirp on about her employers’ origins, which I eagerly encouraged. The more I knew about my opponent, the better.

“Castello di Baroni has the distinction of being the largest winery in the Chianti Classico area as well as being one of the oldest working wineries in the region. Did you know that the original castle was built in the late thirteen hundreds?”

“Very impressive. All that history…if only these walls could talk, eh?”

Mia giggled. “Much intrigue and bloodshed. The Medicis were frequent guests and where they went, scandal followed.”

I laughed along with Mia. “You should put that on the brochure.”

“Oh, goodness,” she said with a flirty smile. “Alessandra would never do that.”

“And who is Alessandra?” I asked, feigning ignorance.

“Alessandra di Baroni. She is the winery’s CEO and the only living Baroni heir.”

“And does this Alessandra have no sense of adventure? I think playing up the Medici angle would be a sensational tourist trap. You’d sell more wine that way.”

“We do things differently here at Castello di Baroni. It’s not always about the sale,” Mia said, politely chastising me for such a crass suggestion. I probably came off as typically American. I’d done enough traveling throughout Europe to know that Americans were often disdained for our lack of tradition or sense of ritual.

“I agree, the way you’re doing things is better. Obviously, when you’ve been around since the thirteen hundreds, you’ve got a firm handle on how to succeed.” I winked to show that I was capable of listening to subtle cues. She rewarded me with an approving smile. I sensed a deep appreciation for Alessandra, which was interesting. While Alessandra may seem the hardnose, she must truly value her staff as Mia wasn’t about to say anything that threw her boss under the bus.

There was no one I would consider loyal in our employ. I had no doubt that any of the executives who sat in the boardroom at Donato Inc. would sell their own grandmother if it meant getting ahead. That was just the nature of business. I didn’t hold it against them, but I wondered what it would be like to be the recipient of Mia’s brand of loyalty. A world without fake smiles, ass-kissing and backstabbing as the norm.

Right, like that place existed. Appearances were deceiving. For all I knew sweet Mia could be sleeping with Alessandra’s father behind closed doors or embezzling from the company.

“Tell me more about the castle,” I prompted, steering the conversation to ground where Mia felt more comfortable. “I find it all so fascinating.”

“Oh, it truly is. The castle survived the devastation of World War II without so much as losing a pebble in her foundation, whereas other castles in the area weren’t as lucky. Some say the castle is blessed.”

“And here I thought castles were supposed to be haunted. Surely there are a few ghosts rattling around the stones. Please don’t ruin all my European castle stereotypes.”

“Perhaps one or two,” she said with a conspiratorial wink. “There is a story about an old groundskeeper who can be seen walking the vines from time to time, but he seems to be the helpful sort of ghost, not the scary kind.”

“No wailing lady in white to be found?” I asked.

“Not that I’ve heard but you’d have to ask Alessandra. She grew up in the castle and if there’s anything ghostly, she’d know.”

I let that information sink in for a moment. “Grew up in the castle? Wow, that’s not something you hear every day. The only people I’ve ever heard of living in a castle are the Windsors.”

“Well, Windsor Castle is older than Castello di Baroni and impressive as well. Have you been?”

“Not much of a touristy traveler,” I admitted. “But I see now that I’ve been missing out. I think I need to start seeing the world through a different lens, which definitely includes a few castle tours. I’m bound to find at least one with a wailing lady in white, right?”

“The odds are in your favor,” she said, laughing. “Actually, you seem like someone who might be interested in a special event the winery holds each year to celebrate the harvest,” she said, reaching beneath the counter to produce a five-by-seven invitation printed on thick card stock with gold filigree. “A man of your tastes might find tonight’s event worth your while.”

The woman was good. Without being obvious, she’d sized me up quickly and determined I had the pocketbook required for such an event.

I accepted the invite, flipping it over to read the details of the black-tie event. “Una Notte Magica,” I murmured, and I knew I’d been given an excellent chance to learn more about Alessandra even if she didn’t welcome me with open arms. “Will the Baroni family be in attendance? I’d love to meet the people behind such an esteemed winery,” I said.

“Oh yes, it’s a big event for the family. They take great pride in their annual event. It’s a Baroni tradition and they are very approachable, very generous with their time.”

Perfect. “Forgive my ignorance but…how does one family run this operation so seamlessly?” I asked, pandering to the woman’s pride in her employer. “I’m surprised Castello di Baroni hasn’t been snapped up by a corporation by this point.”

“Oh no, signor, the Baronis are very close, very dedicated to keeping the business going privately and family operated as it always has been. Tradition is everything to them. They treat their employees like family, unlike those operations owned by bigger entities. We are very proud to be Baroni employees.”

Ah, that explained the loyalty.

“That’s amazing. American business could take a lesson in Baroni employment retention tenets,” I said, playing along. “So, Alessandra is the sole heir? She handles all of this on her own? No other family to help?”

“No, sadly, it is only Alessandra Baroni running things. Enzo, her twin brother, died when he was young, and everything fell to Alessandra. But she has more than risen to the occasion, wouldn’t you say?”

“Absolutely,” I said, seeming impressed. “She must be a powerhouse. A real modern woman.”

The woman giggled. “Oh yes, Alessandra is all that and more. She is bringing Baroni into the future even if her father is a little more reluctant to be so progressive. The wine industry is slow to change but Alessandra is a force of nature. She does not need anyone’s approval to make the big decisions. We are all so proud of her and what she’s doing.”

Realizing she may have said too much, the woman straightened with a quick smile. “I talk of things that are of no interest to you. My apologies, signor.”

“Not at all. I love hearing about the winery’s history,” I said, putting her fears to rest. I’d have to stop giving my younger brother shit for always using the Donato charm to get his way. I had to admit Nico was right, it was efficient. I smiled for Mia’s benefit, adding, “Will you be at the event?”

She blushed and shook her head. “Not this time. I have other plans, unfortunately.”

“More’s the pity,” I said, letting the innuendo drop between us before drawing a regretful breath and pocketing the invite. “Do you work on commission?”

Her cheeks pinked a little. “I receive a small bonus for sales,” she admitted.

I grinned and tossed down my black Amex card. “Then, I’ll need to buy a case of your Riserva. I know my father will go nuts over it.”

She flushed with pleasure and nodded as she prepared the paperwork to finish the sale. I had the case shipped to my father with the simple message, “A preview of your newest obsession,” and then with a smile left the gift shop with a plan forming.

I needed to get closer to Alessandra and this event tonight was just the venue I needed to make my move.

There were certain things in life that were irrefutable:

1) In spite of the recent spate of flat-earthers squawking to the contrary, the earth was, in fact, round.

2) No matter race, religious background or gender, everyone had a price.

And finally…

3) Women couldn’t resist a Donato in a tuxedo.

I chuckled at my private wisdom and headed for my hotel room.

CHAPTER FOUR
Alessandra

UNA NOTTE MAGICA was an event my family held every year to celebrate a successful harvest. We spent a lot of money to ensure the attendees remembered the Baroni name. It was advertising at its most obscene. I tolerated it because business was more than just making sure your product was superior, it was also about making connections within your community and circle of influence.

It just so happened my circle of influence comprised old white men stuck in their ways, and suffering a night of their condescending snobbery was a waste of my precious time.

However, I wasn’t so foolish as to believe that I didn’t need their influence, particularly with the launch of Uva Persa around the corner, so I would play the game a bit longer.

My best friend, Sophia Russo, zipped my dress as I held my hair up. “Suck it in,” she advised with a laugh as she shrink-wrapped me into the black formfitting gown. I squeaked a little as the final stretch of zipper found its home and I slowly let out my breath as I turned to face Sophia. Her smile was radiant, if not a little sardonic. She quipped, “I hope you didn’t plan to eat tonight because not much else could fit in that dress.”

“Of course not, I’m too on edge to eat anyway,” I said, turning to put the finishing touches on my makeup. My thoughts should’ve been on tonight but my brain kept stubbornly throwing Donato into my mental theater, which was a fresh irritant to my already taut nerves. “If Alberico is there and tries to pressure me to dance with him, I’ll grind my heel into his insole.”

“His family expects you to marry him,” Sophia said. “Your pedigrees match up. It’s not a terrible idea, you know. He’s not ugly and he stands to inherit a sizable fortune. Plus, his family descends from the House of Medici so he has royalty in his blood.”

“Well, perhaps if the Italian monarchy hadn’t ended in the forties that might be something to crow about. Today, it’s simply colorful conversation and it means nothing. Besides, I’m not looking for a man to lend his influence. I’ve had enough of that nonsense and it’s time to make a change.”

Sophia sighed, shaking her head. “Always trying to change the world,” she said. “Enzo would be proud.”

Enzo had been Sophia’s one true love. His death had brought Sophia and me closer and we’d been thick as thieves ever since. She was the one I could trust with anything. If things had turned out differently, it might’ve been Enzo and Sophia making this historic leap into new pastures for Castello di Baroni, but fate had played a cruel game, taking Enzo and leaving me to push for change.

“I hope so,” I said, trying not to tear up and ruin my makeup. Enzo was my soft spot. I dabbed at my eyes. “Everything I do, I do with Enzo in mind.”

“I know you do but this is your accomplishment,” Sophia reminded me. “You push so hard in his memory that you overshadow your own talent. I’ve seen you do things that I’m not sure Enzo would’ve been able to handle.”

“What do you mean?” I asked. “Enzo loved this business.”

“Yes, and he was a dreamer. He loved the romance of the wine industry, not the business side of it. Sometimes I think because we lost him so soon we’ve idealized him. We can be honest about who he was without diminishing his character.”

Enzo’s memory was precious. Maybe Sophia was right. I did have a tendency to protect his legacy with a ferocity usually reserved for mothers and their children.

Sophia slipped her hand into mine. “But I do know that he would’ve been so extra proud of you for everything you’ve accomplished thus far. You’re the reason Castello di Baroni remains top tier, not because the wine sells itself. Even if your father does not see this… I do.”

I paused for a minute to gaze at Sophia with love. “You’re too good to me, Sophia,” I said.

She shook her head. “No, I only speak what I know to be true.”

Sophia would never lie to me nor would she fill my head with flattery simply to play to my ego. “I wish Enzo had lived so you could be my true sister instead of simply the sister of my heart.”

Sophia’s smile warmed with love. “That’s all I need.” She released my hand and stepped back to give my dress a final perusal with a critical eye. Satisfied, she nodded, proclaiming, “Absolutely exquisite. It simply isn’t fair to every man whose heart will explode upon seeing you.”

I chuckled, my cheeks heating, but I quickly pointed out, “I’m not the only one who will turn heads. That white dress on you is nearly a crime. Perhaps Alberico will notice you instead of me.”

Sophia’s white gown was in stark contrast to mine but she wore it with grace and elegance. Whereas I was blessed with an overabundant bosom that made everything I wore nearly obscene, she was lithe and lean like a willow tree.

Sophia blushed, pushing a lock of her burgundy hair behind her ear, pink staining her cheeks. “You are a sweet talker. You’re the one who steals the air in the room. No one will notice me the minute they see you.”

“Nonsense. You’re so beautiful. Enzo is surely smiling down at us both, but you in particular. I am sure he’s staring hard enough to leave a bruise.”

Sophia’s breath caught as her smile deepened with soul-deep longing, and my heart hurt that Sophia would forever reserve that special place for Enzo. She was too young to willingly put herself on the shelf but Sophia was as stubborn as she was beautiful.

If soul mates existed, Enzo had been Sophia’s.

But Enzo died so young. It wasn’t fair.

Sophia was like a hothouse flower, stunning and fragile. She was incredibly beautiful but she lacked the fire that burned in my belly. Whereas I was loud and determined, she was quiet and kind, preferring a book and a glass of wine over a party. “Your Prince Charming is out there but you’re not going to meet him in your sitting room,” I playfully admonished. “You have to actually get out there and meet people.”

“What am I doing tonight?” she teased. “Is this not going out?”

“Once a year doesn’t count,” I said. “And none of these old men are anyone I’d want you falling in love with. They are fossils—you need someone with spirit.”

She laughed. “Maybe I’d like a fossil. Seems very peaceful. You’re the one who craves adventure, not me. We both know that Enzo was wild enough for the both of us.”

I pursed my lips. “Enzo would’ve wanted you to find someone, not pine after him for the rest of your life.”

This was a conversation we’d had many times and just as before, Sophia shut me down quickly but sweetly. “We are not playing matchmaker tonight. You need to focus on what’s important. Uva Persa is your crowning achievement and you need to make sure nothing stands in the way of its success, which means you need to play nice with the old cronies who run this industry.”

Solid advice even if I wanted to argue the point. “Still, you’re too young to be closed off like you are. It worries me.”

She laughed softly, her brown eyes full of love. “You worry about all the wrong things. I’m happy just the way things are. Why would I want to risk upsetting the balance I have now? Some people are not meant to be paired up and that’s okay. I’m happy.”

Was I worrying too much over something that wasn’t true? “I know how much you loved Enzo…” I said, my voice trailing, not sure why I was pursuing this topic when it wasn’t the time or place. Maybe I was nervous and talking about someone else’s problems took the focus from mine. Yes, that was it, and it wasn’t fair to Sophia to draw the focus unnecessarily. “I’m sorry. You’re right. I shouldn’t try to force you into anything you’re not ready for or interested in.”

Again, Donato popped into my head. He would try again, I could feel it. He wasn’t the kind of man who gave up easily. He was accustomed to getting his way and losing was a foreign concept to him. His arrogance was the last thing I needed to deal with right now. I double-checked my profile, twisting and turning in the full-length gown, assuring myself that I looked impeccable as befitting my place within Castello di Baroni.

“You’re exquisite,” Sophia assured me as if privy to my internal dialogue. I graced her with a grateful smile and knew it was time to leave. I had a small apartment in Siena, the closest city to the family estate, but I also had living quarters inside the manor. Tonight, for expediency, I chose to stay in the manor so our walk downstairs to the grounds was easy, even in heels.

Sophia clutched my arm and inhaled sharply as the grounds came into view. We pulled out all the stops for this event. Catering to an old-world guard, stately elegance was the key. We hired a catering company to transform a section of the grounds into a magical place with fairy lights winding through the cypress trees and a full orchestra playing classics from various Italian composers.

“You always outdo yourself,” Sophia said, awed. “Truly magical, my friend.”

I smiled, appreciative of her praise, but I was already in work mode. My father broke apart from his cluster of friends to kiss me on both cheeks. “You are a vision,” he said, beaming. “Your mother would be proud.”

Mama had passed several years ago, leaving me as the sole female in the Baroni family. My father would never remarry but I wished he would so he would have something to focus on other than what I was doing with the business.

I loved him deeply but he was steeped in the old ways and resistant to anything that rocked the boat, which caused friction between us.

Mama had always been the buffer that kept Papa and me from ruining each other with our stubborn natures. I missed her so much. It seemed unfair that our family had suffered so much loss, but I wasn’t one to cry about things I couldn’t change.

I couldn’t help but wonder, if it were Enzo coming to him with the idea of cultivating the lost varietals, would my father have jumped on the idea, calling it innovative and brave? But because it’d been me to make the suggestion, he’d considered the idea brash and foolish.

“Thank you, Papa,” I murmured. “Everything came together well for tonight. I’m pleased you’re happy.”

“Very happy indeed,” he said, his barrel chest puffing up with pride. “My daughter knows how to put on a beautiful event.”

I smiled through my irritation. I did far more than put on a good party. I was single-handedly dragging Castello di Baroni back into the limelight, but I wasn’t going to mention that. As Sophia said, my father liked to believe that Baroni wines sold themselves, that our reputation was all that was needed to push sales, but he was wrong.

Maybe at one time…but times had changed and the competition was far fiercer than ever before. If left to my father’s plan, Baroni wines would’ve become irrelevant long ago.

“My…who is that?”

Sophia’s sharp intake of breath drew my attention straight to Dante Donato walking into my party as if he’d been invited. Instant irritation warred with a grudging appreciation for the form he cut through a crowd. If he’d been stunning in a business suit, he was downright criminal in a tuxedo. I could fairly hear the ladies in attendance fluttering their lashes and staring hard enough to be considered lewd.

“Sophia, would you mind keeping my father company while I greet our new guest?” I said from between gritted teeth. I didn’t wait for Sophia’s answer, too annoyed to care that I was frowning as I approached Donato.

“I don’t recall your name being on the guest list,” I said coolly as I met Dante beneath the twinkling arbor. “Why are you here?”

His gaze caught mine and for a moment I swore my heart skipped an extra beat. There was something intense about the way his gaze held mine that I couldn’t quite tear my eyes away. Normally, I was the one arresting people with my stare.

Sexuality was a weapon I freely used and made no apologies for, but suddenly I felt like the hunted instead of the other way around. I lifted my chin, ignoring my body’s sudden warming, and gave him a pointed look. “I could have you thrown out,” I told him.

“You could but that would be very ill-mannered of you,” he said, a slow, sensual smile forming on his lips. “I was invited.” He produced a gilded invitation and handed it to me as proof.

It was indeed an actual invitation. I frowned. “How did you get this?” I asked with genuine confusion.

“Is the how that important? I am here and I’m an invited guest so to throw me out would be incredibly poor form on your part.”

He was right. I couldn’t throw him out with an invitation in his hand and he was already attracting attention. Forcing a smile, I looped my arm through his and said, “Well, then, let me be the first to welcome you to Castello di Baroni’s Una Notte Magica.”

The minute our bodies touched I knew I should’ve thrown him out—because the immediate sparks between us were dangerous.

“Magical indeed,” he murmured, a sexy half smile playing with his lips. “Let me guess, you created this masterful entertainment for this evening?”

“It is one of my many duties,” I said, careful to keep my voice even and controlled, smiling as if I were pleased as punch to have him crashing my party. “Truly, I’m curious how you received an invitation. This is black-tie, invitation-only and I approve the guest list.”

“Not my style,” he said with amusement in his tone. “Suffice to say, I’m here and I look forward to an entertaining evening spent with good company.”

I didn’t like mysteries, much less mysteries perpetrated beneath my nose. My intuition tingled and I guessed, “Was it Mia?”

“And if it were? I would not have you punish her,” he said, his voice firming in a way that sent shivers dancing down my back. “She is a dedicated and loyal employee.”

“I wouldn’t punish her,” I said, annoyed that he thought I would do something so terrible for a small lapse in judgment. Mia had done no harm and probably thought she was helping in some way. “Let me guess, you charmed your way into gaining her ticket.”

“Charm is something that comes to me naturally, but I can promise you it wasn’t my intention to get invited. I didn’t even know about tonight until she produced a ticket. However, I was happy to accept.”

“And why is that?”

We paused, and he turned to regard me with open interest as he answered smooth as cream, “Because I couldn’t think of a better way to spend my time in Italy than to spend it with you.”

It could be a line but he didn’t have a practiced way about him, and that caused my breath to quicken in the same organic way.

“I have no time for games, Mr. Donato.”

Was that a slight catch in my voice, a subtle quaver that gave away the liquid heat building in my belly? God, I hoped not.

The chemistry between us prickled with intensity and I felt myself losing my edge, which was as dangerous as it was alluring.

I never lost my edge.

Until now.

“I really should’ve had you thrown out,” I murmured as his head dipped toward mine.

“Probably,” he chuckled, seconds before his lips closed over mine.

CHAPTER FIVE
Dante

KISSING HER HADN’T been the plan but I took opportunity where I found it.

But in all honesty, I’m not even sure when game play had dropped from my brain and my primal instincts took over.

I’ve never been struck by a woman’s beauty, losing all sense of reason over a hot body and pretty face, but for a heartbeat, the only word I could muster to describe how I was feeling was—struck.

Struck by lightning.

Struck by lust.

Struck by awe.

And it was disconcerting as fuck.

That dress, clinging to every hill and valley of her lush body, her breasts high and practically spilling out like candy from a crystal bowl, did crazy things to my head—and other places.

Too many times I’d watched with scorn as men slobbered and made fools of themselves over beautiful women. I never imagined I might fall into the same trap, but in that wild moment I probably would’ve done anything to feel those luscious lips on mine for just a heartbeat.

The kiss ignited something deep inside me but somehow by the grace of God, I pulled myself back to reality and broke away.

This woman—lovely as she might be—stood in the way of my goal. Strategy was in order.

“Before you judge Mia too harshly, she did manage to sell me an entire case of your Riserva, which I had shipped home to my father in New York. I’d say she’s a pretty good saleswoman.”

Cheeks flushed, Alessandra smoothed her dress and nodded, as if trying to regain her mental footing. Her scent still lingered in my nose, citrus and a tease of musk that did terrible things to my ability to focus. She exuded sexuality without trying, moving with effortless grace, yet the roll and sway of her hips were a moving violation.

“Mia’s job is not in jeopardy,” Alessandra assured me, but she was still struggling to put what’d happened into perspective. Our kiss had rattled her. Good—because it’d rattled me, too, but I was better at hiding it.

Every woman I’d ever spent time with paled before Alessandra and I found my tongue sticking uncharacteristically to the roof of my mouth.

“I’m sure kissing me wasn’t your sole intention for this evening. Why did you come here?” she asked.

Straight to the point, she pulled no punches, which I found invigorating. Hell, everything about her excited me right now but I had my game face on. “As I mentioned, I’ve come to enjoy fine wine and finer company. To that end, the evening has already started off well.” We were surrounded by people but it felt as if we were the only two in the courtyard. “Una Notte Magica…a fitting name. There is something magical in the air. Hard to believe how quickly you transformed the grounds from this afternoon into this wonderland.”

“I wear many hats here at Castello di Baroni, the least of which is party planner.” She stopped short and disengaged from my arm, turning to face me, all business. “I know what you’re doing.”

Hot boss lady. I like it. My brow rose with interest. “Oh? Pray tell. Please enlighten me.”

“You’ve crashed my party for a reason. You’re seeking some kind of leverage to use because you think our negotiations are ongoing, which they are not.”

I shrugged. “Maybe I’ve lost interest in the winery entirely and I’m simply looking to enjoy a nice evening.”

“I find that highly unlikely.”

“And why is that?”

She lifted her chin, assessing me without apology. “Because you’re the kind of man who doesn’t take no for an answer. Defeat isn’t in your vocabulary. Your arrogance—”

“Confidence,” I corrected.

Alessandra narrowed her gaze. “Arrogance clings to you like that tuxedo. You couldn’t hide or disguise it if you tried. It’s part of your DNA. Even if I told you a million times that you were wasting your time, that we would never sell, you’d still try to win.”

Astute observation. I smiled, pausing to accept two flutes of champagne from a passing attendant, handing her a glass before saying, “The invitation was a bonus. Mia took pity on me for being new to Italy and gave me her invitation. Perhaps she thought I’d make a new friend or two.” Knowing this would hit a chord, I made a point to gesture discreetly to the redheaded woman Alessandra had been standing with. “Perhaps with your friend…she’s quite beautiful.”

I wasn’t disappointed. Alessandra’s eyes flashed and she stiffened as she retorted, “She’s not your type.”

“How would you know my type?” I chided, amused. “You don’t know me.”

“You cannot kiss me and then make eyes at my best friend. Even for an American, that’s low.” Alessandra was quickly becoming my type but the game was afoot and it wouldn’t work to show my hand too early. “Your purchase offer isn’t welcome at Castello di Baroni and your attention isn’t welcome with my friend Sophia. Please don’t make things awkward by making me throw you out.”

That hot-blooded protectiveness was alluring as fuck. My breath quickened as a slow smile followed. “Are you always this delightful to guests?”

“You are not my guest,” she pointed out, sipping her champagne, smiling gracefully to a passerby as we moved through the courtyard to end in a slightly darker section where there were less people. “You are an interloper trying to poach on my property for your own gain.”

I wasn’t going to gain any ground this way. If Alessandra had her guard up every time I was around, I’d certainly lose. I needed a new tactic. “I think we got off on the wrong foot. May we start over?” I asked.

She hesitated, wary. “You assume that I am interested in starting over.”

“I respect your position as the head of a historic winery in an industry that is predominantly male-dominated. If I’m being honest, I’m a little in awe of how well you’ve managed to carve a place for yourself in this business. I came with an offer from my father, but to be honest, I really could not care less about purchasing your winery. My father is old and bored. Purchasing wineries is his new pastime. I agreed to make the offer but I find you far more intriguing than a bunch of grapes.”

Alessandra opened her mouth as if to fire back a retort but thought better of it. “So you’re not going to press me for more negotiations?” she asked.

“You gave me your answer.”

“And you accept it?” she asked, openly disbelieving me. “Just like that. You give up.”

“You want me to keep trying? I’m getting a mixed message,” I said, biting back a smile. “There are easier ways to get me to call than to lead me on a wild-goose chase. I’d be happy to take you to dinner.”

She blinked, her adorable mouth popping open again before she snapped it shut and narrowed her gaze. “Good. Then I won’t expect to see you again, crashing my parties or skulking around my winery.”

“I’ve never skulked in my life,” I said, affronted. “I’m not even sure I’m capable of skulking.”

That cracked a tiny smile from her. I wasn’t used to being the jokester—I left that to Nico—but I enjoyed sparring with Alessandra. There was something satisfying about matching wits and finding myself challenged. “Perhaps not but the meaning remains the same. I’m not selling.”

“You’ve said that, and I’ve heard you.” I waited a moment before asking, “Out of curiosity…what drives your passion to hold on to the winery? Surely, there are less stressful careers out there. From what I’ve seen, Italy is still staunchly patriarchal when it comes to the wine business.”

I expected her to shut me down but she surprised me with an answer. “It was my twin brother’s passion. I honor him by keeping Castello di Baroni alive. In some small way, it’s like having him here still.”

The genuine emotion in her statement left no room for quips or jokes. Mia had given me accurate information but hearing it from Alessandra’s lips further validated my gut instinct. Sentiment was difficult to negotiate around. Not impossible but it definitely raised the stakes.

I digested her answer, giving it the weight it deserved, then said, “So, now that we have settled our business disagreement, what do you say about dinner?”

It was a bold move but I was ready to put the chess pieces in play. All I needed was the queen to make her move.

Alessandra regarded me with interest, something in her beautiful eyes flickering in a way that made my groin tighten. I wanted her to say yes so badly that I felt myself holding my breath in anticipation.

“Dinner…”

The fact that she was considering it gave me a sudden thrill. “You know the best places in town, I’m assuming, and basically I’m a tourist in your country. Seems smartest to have a well-connected local to show me the hot spots.”

She laughed. “You want me to play tour guide? I don’t have time for that.”

“I could make it worth your while. What if I paid you for your time?”

Alessandra’s brow furrowed as she pursed her lips. “There you go throwing money around again. If I choose to show you around, it won’t be because you’ve paid me.”

“So you’re considering it?” I asked, grinning.

“Of course not,” she answered with a smile. “But I will consider dinner.”

Yes! Success. I kept my triumphant smile to a minimum. “I’ll put that in the win column.”

“Don’t count it yet. First, a few questions…”

“Like a job interview? I haven’t had one of those in a while.”

“Are you married or have a girlfriend at home? I don’t want to deal with a jealous woman showing up on my doorstep.”

“Over dinner?” I teased. “This better be the most amazing food ever made.”

“I’m serious. It’s happened before and I don’t have the time for drama.”

If she knew me better, she wouldn’t have had to ask. I didn’t keep entanglements. I preferred to remain unfettered by emotional attachments. My two brothers were shackled and I had no interest in following in their footsteps.

But I was happy to allay her fears. I took a bold step forward, entering her personal space. She didn’t pull back. The blood roared in my ears as she met my gaze with a boldness of her own. I hungered for another taste of her kiss on my lips. The first kiss had been a shock to us both, a reaction to the magnetism between us. This time, I was going to make it happen with all the finesse I was known for.

I knuckled her chin, noting the soft, firm skin of her jawline. “I promise you, I am very single and I am not interested in changing that status—no matter how enticing the vision before me.”

Her slow smile tickled me in private places. “Good. Then you may take me to dinner.” Yes! I took the invitation her parted lips offered, sliding my mouth across hers, tasting that exotic flavor of Italian spice I knew I’d always remember, and thrilled at the bold dart of her tongue against mine.

Heat kindled between us as if the ember had always been there, waiting for the right spark to start a fire. Even if the kiss lasted only a moment, it left me aching for more.

She pulled away, her cheeks flushed slightly, saying with a devilish smile as she walked away, “Dinner only.”

I remained rooted to the spot she left me. My lips tingled from her touch.

My cock surged to life, nearly splitting the zipper as every primal need known to man came knocking on my door, urging me to toss her over my shoulder and carry her off like a Viking.

“Dinner it is,” I murmured, staring after her like a hungry wolf. “At least to start…”

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