Page 3 of His to Wed

But, whetherSignoreGreco’s flattery is sincere or not, it does funny things to my insides. His words make me feel warm and fuzzy. I consider his invitation and decide to take a risk.

“Very well,SignoreGreco, one drink.”

“One drink,” he agrees, “and call me Alessandro.”

Alessandro?It’s a strong, masculine name that suits him well. He releases his grip on me, but then drapes his arm around my shoulders in what feels like a proprietorial gesture. I should tell him it’s inappropriate for him to touch me like this, but I have to admit, I am enjoying the closeness.

He steers me back along the street to an intimate taverna. I’m uncomfortable with his choice since it’s run by a close friend of my grandfather. But, of course, it would be impossible to find somewhere in this town that doesn’t belong to an associate of his, sinceNonnoknows everyone.

The taverna is empty when we get there, apart from a couple of men in dark suits. Both tall and built like tanks, they could be someone’s bodyguards or, worse, they might be Mafia. Organized crime isn’t really a problem around here, but you never know. The two men hover inside the door as if to deter people from entering, but they nod to Alessandro as he strolls past. Are they with him?

Before I can ask Alessandro about them, he guides me into a seat in the corner. Giuseppe, the gray-haired owner of the taverna, hurries over with a bottle of wine. It’s a rare Tignanello, which goes for about six hundred euros a bottle. My grandfather has a case in his cellar, reserved for special occasions. Alessandro’s choice of wine is another indication he’s not the beach bum I first thought he was.

Giuseppe places the bottle of wine and two glasses on the table and walks off without greeting me. He spares me only the briefest of glances as he positions himself behind the bar. His behavior is odd since he’s usually so warm and friendly. I’m not sure if I’ve interpreted his hunched shoulders and lack of eye contact correctly, but it seemed to me he was afraid.

Behind me, the door clicks shut. I look back over my shoulder to see that the two men who were standing there are now gone. One is positioned outside, in front of the window. The other, presumably, is on the opposite side of the door. It’s a disconcerting thought that they’re guarding the place. Are theyhere to keep others out, or me in? Either way, their presence makes me uneasy.

“Giuseppe,” Alessandro says, without turning to look at him, “your presence is no longer required.”

My eyes widen as the older man nods respectfully and disappears through the door into the kitchen. I had my suspicions before, but now I know for sure that Alessandro Greco is not who I believed him to be. There’s something dangerous about him. I wish I’d sensed it before.

As he pours the wine, he keeps his gaze firmly fixed on me. His stare is so intense, it makes me uneasy. It’s not just fear I experience, though. There’s an altogether more alarming sensation, a warmth slowly spreading through my body. I’m attracted to this man. It isn’t safe for me to be alone with him. I may end up doing something stupid.

Deciding I need to get out of here, I push to my feet.

“Sit down, Emilia.” Alessandro’s command makes me freeze. “Sit down and don’t move until I say you can. Defy me and I will spank your ass raw.”

My stomach flips at the force he puts behind the threat. I’m not sure how I feel about it. Horror would be the proper response, but that’s not what takes hold of me. It’s curiosity. A part of me wants to push him, to see if he’ll actually do it.

After a few seconds, common sense kicks in and I sink back onto my chair. Alessandro slides a glass of wine across the table to me.

“Tell me what you think of it.” His tone is light, and he smiles as if he didn’t just threaten to spank me.

Eyeing him warily, I pick up my glass and take a sip. I get subtle hints of cherry, black currant, and a deeper oaky flavor.

“It’s good.”

Alessandro nods but says nothing. He just continues to study me carefully as I roll the stem of the glass between my fingers. Is he deliberately trying to unsettle me?

“So, you come from New York?” I ask when it becomes clear he isn’t going to speak.

“I do.”

“Have you always lived there?”

“Yes.”

I take a deep breath. This is like pulling teeth.

“You like living there?”

A slight smile drags the corner of his mouth upward and I get the sense my desperate attempt to make conversation is amusing him.

“Yes,” he responds.

I bite back a rude remark. Why the hell did he bring me here if he’s not even going to talk to me? I drink some more of the wine. As the renewed silence drags on, I stifle a yawn. I need to get out of here.

“You know, you really are beautiful,” Alessandro says eventually. “Fucking you will be no hardship.”

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