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“No,” he replied with a shrug. “Why deny the truth?” He had benefited from using Carlos’s land. Carlos would have wanted as much. “You chose to stay away, and I saw no sense in letting good land go to waste.”
“I didn’t choose, I...” Whatever she was going to say was swept aside by a deep breath. “Regardless, that doesn’t give you the right to do what you want. No matter how good you are at it,” she muttered into her cup.
“Good at vineyard management or doing what I want?” Her side eye gave him his answer. “Fine. You’re the owner. If you don’t want to recultivate, what would you like to do with your neglected vineyards?”
“I’ll let you know,” she said, jutting her chin for maximum haughtiness.
They both knew he would replant; she was being stubborn for stubbornness’ sake. He wondered if she knew how attractive she looked when she was being argumentative. Maybe that was why he enjoyed pushing her buttons. Like a person with a stick poking at a hornet’s nest and getting off on the risk, provoking her to annoyance had excitement curling low in his stomach. And damn if it wasn’t easy to push her buttons. Seemed as though all he had to do was breathe and her eyes were flashing.
Those eyes were flashing brightly at the moment. Reminding him of how she’d looked right after they kissed.
Ah. Clarity dawned.
“This isn’t really about recultivating, is it?” he asked, stepping closer. “This is about what happened at the wedding.”
She whipped around to face him. “I told you I didn’t want to talk about that.”
And yet the moment hung over them begging to be mentioned. “Come now, bella mia, don’t tell me you expect us to pretend it never happened?”
How could they possibly ignore such an amazing kiss? Surely he wasn’t the only one who lay awake at night remembering how perfectly their bodies fit together. The way her breath quickened when he’d stepped closer, told him he wasn’t.
“Don’t call me bella mia, and I’m not asking you to pretend about anything. It’s simply not worth talking about. We drank a little too much wine and let the romantic atmosphere get to us, that’s all.”
“Really?” He leaned in, angling his head near the curve of her neck. “That’s all it was? A drunken mistake? I’m not sure I believe you.” Especially when her skin flushed from his proximity.
“Why not?”
“Because...” Nico let his gaze take the path his fingers wanted to take. “For one thing, I wasn’t drunk.”
This time it was Louisa who closed the distance between them, her eyes ablaze from the confrontation. “Maybe you weren’t, but that doesn’t mean I wasn’t. Much as your ego would like to think otherwise.”
Oh, how his little hornet’s nest enjoyed poking him as much as he enjoyed poking her. “Trust me, bella mia,” he said, “my ego doesn’t need stroking. Go ahead and call it a drunken mistake if you have to. Same way you can tell yourself that you wouldn’t enjoy a repeat performance.”
Louisa’s lips parted with a gasp, like he knew they would. With a smile curling his own, Nico dipped his head to claim them.
Just as their mouths were about to touch, she turned her face. “Okay, fine, I admit it was a great kiss, but it can’t happen again.”
“Why not?” Again, he didn’t understand. Two people obviously attracted to one another; why shouldn’t they explore the possibilities?
“For a lot of reasons. To start with, I’m not looking to get involved in a serious relationship.”
All the better. “Neither am I.” Serious came with certain expectations, and as history had proven, he lacked the depth to meet them.
“And—” she dodged his outstretched hand “—we’re neighbors, plus we’ll be working on that committee Rafe is creating. We’ll be around each other all the time.”
“Perhaps I’m misunderstanding, but doesn’t that make things easier?”
“It will make things awkward.”
“Only as awkward as we let it be,” he replied.
Her sandals slapped softly against the floor as she returned to her breakfast table, a position, Nico noted, that put a barrier of glass and wrought iron between them.
Of course, she already knew that, or else her hands wouldn’t be gripping the chair back so tightly. Nico knew the cues; she was working up to another reason. “Look, right now I can’t be involved with anyone seriously or casually. I need to concentrate on taking care of myself. Do you understand?”
“Si.” Better than she realized. The last woman who’d said those words to him had been suffering from a broken heart. Was that Louisa’s secret? Had she come to Monte Calanetti because some bastard had let her down?
