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When the sun had risen high in the sky, they took a break for lunch in the winery. Matteo and his master winemaker took her through the complex techniques they used to produce some of the world’s most exquisite wines. Then it was back on horseback to explore the other side of the mountain where the prize Brunellos and Chiantis were cultivated.
They finished the tour high up on the mountain as the sun was setting, a fiery red ball sinking behind the hills. Quinn pulled her mare to a halt behind Anteros, so glad she had taken the challenge and gone on horseback. The view would not have been nearly the same in a Jeep. Would not have allowed her to truly appreciate the beauty and scale of the massive historic vineyard.
She leaned over and patted the mare’s silky neck, feeling rather victorious at conquering her fear. The sun and fresh air had cleared the throb in her head and chased away her jet lag.
“You really are lovely,” she murmured. The mare’s ears pricked up as if to say, yes, I know.
Matteo dismounted, tethered his horse and came to stand beside her. A smile curved his lips. “Feeling braver?”
She shrugged. “You were right. She’s wonderful.”
“She is.”
She slid her feet out of the stirrups. Her legs felt like limp spaghetti, her butt so numb she couldn’t feel it anymore. “Walking might be an issue,” she murmured.
“Why do you think I’m standing here?” He held out his hands. “Come.”
Why that command made her heartbeat increase by about ten beats per second was beyond her. She swung her leg over the saddle and let him lift her down. He kept his hands around her waist as he had last night to steady her, except this time she hadn’t consumed a bottle of wine and she had her wits about her. Not that that seemed to help. His earthy, male scent was even more intoxicating than the aftershave he’d had on the night before. The hard strength of his arms around her equally so. Maybe it was just the general Matteo effect, she admitted, pulling in a steadying breath. Because he was more male than any man she’d met in her life. Hands down.
She stepped back and made herself busy spreading the blanket he handed her on the grass. If she didn’t look at all the maleness and certainly if she didn’t touch it, she could keep this under control.
Right?
Matteo took a bottle of De Campo’s prizewinning champagne out of the saddlebags, along with glasses and a Swiss Army knife. Quinn gave him a wry glance as she eased her sore body down on the blanket. “Not too much for me.”
“You can’t enjoy this view without at least a taste.” He handed her the glasses and deftly opened the bottle. “It’s a tradition.”
The sparkling liquid he poured into their glasses was the palest of golden yellows. The blanket seemed to shrink to miniscule proportions as he folded himself down beside her and handed her a glass. She eased toward the opposite edge in a subtle movement. The corners of Matteo’s mouth lifted. “I’m hogging,” she offered in an offhand tone.
“Mmm,” he nodded. “You and your huge surface mass.”
She couldn’t help her smile. She unleashed it so infrequently these days it felt good to get it out. “Thank you for today,” she said, tipping her glass toward him. “I’m glad you convinced me to do it on horseback. It was amazing.”
“Prego.” He lifted his glass. “Salute.”
She tipped the liquid into her mouth. The tiny bubbles exploded on her tongue like the most potent ambrosia. Wow. She wasn’t normally a huge fan of champagne or any sparkling wine for that matter, but this was dry and tart and perfectly balanced.
Matteo sat back on his elbows. “So tell me about our trip to St. Lucia. What are we going to see?”
She drew her knees up to her chest and wrapped her arms around them, letting her glass dangle from her fingers. “We have two hotels on the island. They’ll allow you to see the two sides of Luxe, one of our jewels, and one of our properties that needs a lot of work. Paradis Entre les Montagnes near the island’s famous twin volcanoes has been ranked one of the world’s top five luxury hotels. Our chef there is top-notch, the menu ready to go for the wine pairings. Le Belle Bleu, on the north end of the island, is about to reopen after an extensive renovation. It’s a work in progress. The menus haven’t been finalized yet. But all the more reason for you to meet with the chef and develop the pairings from the ground up.”
He plied her with questions as they drank their champagne. Lifted the bottle in question when she finished her half glass.
“No...thank you,” she murmured dryly. “But I am sold. On all of it.” She waved her hand at the vineyard and castello spread out in front of them in all its magnificence. “You must be so proud to be part of such history.”
He nodded. “I’m incredibly privileged to be a De Campo. Absolutely.”
She heard a hesitation in his voice. “But?”
He shrugged and looked down at the castello, sparkling like golden fire in the dying rays of the sun. “Being a De Campo can be a challenge.”
“Your father is difficult.” Which was putting Antonio De Campo’s legendary reputation mildly.
His mouth twisted. “He’s a titan. I’m sure you can relate.”
“Ah yes. I wonder what would happen if we put Antonio and Warren in the ring together? Who would win?”
His smile deepened. “I’d be fascinated to see.”
“Did you all choose the family business or was it expected of you?”
“There was no choice. We are De Campos.”
Sounded familiar. “Didn’t Riccardo race cars for a while?”
“Si.” He took a long swallow of his wine. “My father made it hell for him when he came back.”
“Why did he come back?”
“Antonio was ill. He wanted Riccardo to take the reins.”
She threw him a curious look. “What would you have been if you hadn’t been a De Campo then? If you could have chosen?”
He arched a dark brow at her. “Is this an attempt to peer into my psyche? Part of your partner personality analysis?”
She smiled. “Answer the question.”
“I would have been a concert pianist.”
Her jaw dropped. “Seriously?”
He lifted a shoulder. “I’m not half bad. I minored in music at Oxford.”
Those hands. Her gaze slid to their elegant length. She yanked it back with effort. Oh, no, you don’t, Quinn. Don’t you dare start getting fascinated.
“And you?” He waved a hand at her. “What would you have been if not a high-ranking executive?”
“I don’t know,” she said honestly. “I’ve never stopped to think about it. From the minute Warren saw me make scads of money with a lemonade stand, there was never any question of my path.”
His mouth tipped up at the corner. “How did Thea end up, of all things, a veterinarian?”
“She was hopeless with numbers. It was just never going to happen. Warren gave up.”
“And you filled the gap.” He slid her a sideways look. “You seem very different, you two.”
She lifted her shoulders. “I’m adopted. Not surprising.”
“How did my intelligence miss that?”
“It’s not something we talk about publicly. Warren and Sile adopted me when I was less than a year old.”
“Do you know who your birth parents are?”
She nodded. “They live in Mississippi. They weren’t able to keep me.”
Something in her voice must have alerted him to the wealth of emotion beneath the surface. His gaze rested on her, but he didn’t push. “You and Thea seem close despite the differences.”
“We are.” She smiled. “Thea is the one who believes in fairy tales. I’m the cynic always waiting for the penny to drop. We balance each other out.”
“Does the penny always drop?”
She stared down at the glowing castello. “Sometimes it does.”
He studied her for a long moment. “My brothers and I are very different too. But close as well. Riccardo likes to rule the world. Gabriele is obsessed with his wine.”
“And you?”
“I’m not sure I want a label. Care to give me one?”
Undeniably sexy. Broodily magnetic? There were just so many. She shook her head. Safer that way.
“Do you play the piano for others?”
“Not usually no.”
“Do you take requests to do so?”
“Are you asking?”
“Maybe.” Dammit, yes she was curious, so curious to see how those beautiful hands worked a piano.
It was better than imagining them carrying out the slow and easy seduction of a woman. Something she was definitely, absolutely never going to experience.
His gaze turned an incendiary gray. “How about I play for you when De Campo wins the pitch?”
Her heart tripped over itself. “Gambling again...”
