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To distract himself from the desire to haul her down the hall and back into his bed, he pretended to check the messages on his phone. Comprehension was difficult, what with his beautiful American standing a few feet away clad only in jeans and a bra.
“You should move your clothes into the closet,” he said as he watched her taking a shirt from her suitcase. This long under his roof, and she hadn’t unpacked? They would need to remedy that.
“Actually,” Louisa said, “I was thinking it might be time for me to move back to the palazzo.”
What? He sat a little straighter. “So soon?”
“It’s hardly soon, Nico. I’ve been here two and a half weeks. This was only supposed to be until the press died down, remember?”
He remembered. He didn’t want her to go. Her decision felt too much like her deciding to leave Monte Calanetti. How could she want to leave when they were only just were discovering their feelings.
It took all his effort to keep his voice light and not spoil the moment with his panic. “I suppose,” he said, heaving the most dramatic sigh he could muster, “if you prefer to sleep alone in a cold palazzo than in my warm bed...”
“I never said I preferred the cold palazzo.” She mocked his exaggerated voice with one of her own. “But I will have to go back eventually.”
“I know. Not tonight, though?”
“Well...” He could tell from the sparkle in her eyes that she was only pretending to hesitate. “Okay, not tonight. But soon.”
“Soon,” he said, with a smile. He was surprised at how strongly he wanted her to stay. This new passionate self was going to take some getting used to.
Returning his attention to his phone, he noticed a message from Rafe. Agenda Items for Next Tuesday, the subject line read.
“Did Dani say any more about what Rafe wanted to talk about at this meeting?” he asked Louisa.
“Just that he wanted to get plans rolling on some type of event to attract visitors now that the harvest is wrapping up.” She was buttoning the same silk blouse she’d worn when moving in. “He was thinking maybe something in February,” she said. Around Valentine’s Day.”
“A holiday that will attract couples to his restaurant. Why am I not surprised?”
“Well, it is a romantic time of year. What could be more romantic than candlelit dinners with fine wine?”
“True.” No sooner did she say the words than the image of the two of them nestled together in a corner table came to mind. “Very romantic indeed,” he murmured.
“You could relabel one of your wines for the occasion. The winery must have something bubbly. A prosecco maybe?”
She was on to something. The winery had a very nice prosecco they produced on a limited basis. He could easily convince the local businesses to incorporate it into any plans they came up with.
Tossing his phone aside, he got up and, giving in partially to his desire, wrapped his arms around her waist. “Beautiful and brilliant,” he said, kissing her neck. “You are definitely a prize worth keeping.”
“Glad you think so.”
Was it his imagination or did she tense slightly before breaking the embrace. She had a smile on her face, so he must have.
“Isn’t Valentine’s Day when you were hoping to open the palazzo to guests?” Since she obviously wasn’t going to leave Monte Calanetti now, she could put her project back into motion.
To his surprise, she answered his question with a very sarcastic laugh. “I’m pretty sure those plans bit the dust when Dominic Merloni canceled our appointment.”
Dominic Merloni. That shortsighted idiot. “He is not the only financier in Italy. There are other banks. Other sources of funding,” he reminded her.
Louisa set down the hairbrush she was using to look at him. “Who’s going to lend Luscious Louisa money? It was naive of me to think I could slide by on my maiden name. Too much of my past financial history is tied to Steven’s.”
“There is still the investor route. I’m sure there are plenty of people who would be interested. I’ve already said I would—”
“No.” Her refusal was sharp and sudden, cutting him off. The reaction must have shown on his face, because her voice immediately softened. “We’ve already had this conversation Nico. I can’t take money from you.”
“Yes, but...” But that was before they became lovers. Surely, the situation had changed. Why not let him help?
“The whole idea of the hotel was to create something of my own,” she said, cutting off his protest. “If I take money from you, then it won’t feel that way. Especially now. The papers claim I’m dating you for your money,” she added, picking up her brush.
