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“You’ve spoiled me with picnics and breakfast in bed. Would tonight’s installment have anything to do with the commotion I noticed at the boathouse?”
He mimicked zipping his lips, but his observant wife wasn’t far off the mark.
When Aria had asked him to keep the Italy trip a surprise, he wasn’t sure if it was a good idea. But watching tears stream down his wife’s cheeks when his niece dropped the whole Likert scale business solidified what he already knew in his heart.
His niece was crazy about the woman, and he was, too.
No, he was more than crazy about her, and so was Aria. It was the real thing—and tonight, he’d let her know the extent of his devotion.
“Ancora un minuto, gente.One more minute, people,” the head of his villa security, a stout meaty man, called to the press.
And yes, he had security.
A skeleton crew maintained his Italian residence while he was in the US. But when he was here, he needed help protecting his privacy.
The camera flashes intensified as the photographers got in their final shots.
Harper gazed at the wall of media and squinted. “We’ve done this a few times since we’ve arrived. You’d think I’d get used to it. But this is quite a circus. This is really your life?”
He couldn’t tell if she was asking a question or making a statement.
He glanced at the wall of media. “It’s our life—at least, while we’re in Italy. Years ago, I tried ignoring the press here, but it was a disaster. Mitzi and I decided to schedule these pop-in photo ops to keep the paparazzi from scaling the walls and hiding behind deck chairs to get a shot of me.”
“It blows my mind to think stuff like that really happens to celebrities,” she mused and tossed another look at the media circus. “It’s like we’re fish in a bowl.”
“It’s part of the job,” he answered and tried to get a read on her.
The celebrity existence wasn’t for the faint of heart. The highs were high, but the lows were low.
“It’s not usually this raucous. They’re really champing at the bit over this visit,” he remarked.
“Because of little old me?” she crooned with a sexy twist of a smirk.
“Because of little old you,” he echoed, then tipped her chin and pressed a whisper-soft kiss to her lips, and the photographers went wild. Lit in bursts of white light, he hummed against her mouth, savoring her touch, so grateful to have her with him.
Tonight, Bess and Tomás had renewed their vows at his villa on the lake, with northern Italy’s mountainous greenery as the backdrop. It had been a beautiful, intimate gathering of the five of them. He sure as hell didn’t want to discover a wayward paparazzi hiding in the bushes during the ceremony. And with news of his marriage to Harper, the Italian press had clamored for pictures of his new wife from the moment they stepped off his private jet.
But he shouldn’t have expected any less.
He’d been lifted to mega-star status in the country shortly after Heartthrob Warfare exploded onto the music scene. His sister used to give him grief about it, and Trey had jokingly dubbed him Mr. I-Pop, playing off K-Pop. But the people of Italy had rallied around him with a fervor akin to Norma Rae and her cross-stitch pillows. Not to mention, the amount of money he’d made from endorsements and commercials in the country had allowed him to purchase a private jet at the tender age of twenty-two. Italy loved him, and he loved Italy. From the food to the people to the open and welcoming culture, he felt a connection to this place. Once he had the cash, it made sense to buy a vacation home here.
Butvacation homemight not be the best way to describe the ten-bedroom mansion built into the hillside overlooking a lake.
When Tomás and Bess mentioned they wanted to renew their vows in Italy, he offered the villa. Truth be told, he’d offered to buy his foster parents a place of their own, but they’d declined like they always declined when he offered to shower them with his wealth.
The last five nights, they’d feasted as a family on dinners prepared by local chefs and indulged in the region’s wines. Mother Nature had gifted them with mild weather for early October. While Bess and Tomás strolled through the village, he and Harper had spent their days with Aria, riding bikes, sailing on the lake, and playing tag on the pebbled beaches.
Life was good.
And if tonight went the way he hoped, it might end up being one of the best evenings of his life.
“Signore Paige, there was a call. I have a message for you,” one of the villa butlers called from a side door.
Harper frowned. “What could that be about?”
He didn’t have a clue.
He turned to the press. “That’s all for tonight. Thank you for coming out.” He nodded to his head of security. The man strode to the center of the courtyard as a trio of guards escorted the paparazzi off the property.
