Love in the Vineyard (The Tavonesi Series Book 7) (14 page)

He smiled. “Tell me something I don’t know.”

Right. They’d already established that she loved plants. It was a love they shared.

“I like to paint. I’m not very good and I don’t have much time for it, but I do love to paint. Landscapes and flowers.”

“My sister Zoe paints.”

She’d seen Zoe Tavonesi’s paintings in the Casa del Sole gift shop; they were breathtaking. “She has amazing talent,” Natasha said before she thought.

“You’ve seen her work? I thought she had only a few pieces in our gift shop. Unless you saw her exhibition in Rome?”

Oh God. She simply wasn’t ready for a big reveal. Not tonight.

“I saw something in the paper about her.”

“I’ll have to speak with our marketing consultant. He’s supposed to forward articles about the family to me. I like to post them on the website.”

The lights dimmed, the orchestra stopped their tuning and a hush fell over the audience.

Adrian leaned close and whispered, “One for one, Natasha. Although you now know much more about me than I do you. The next secret is yours to tell.”

To Natasha’s surprise, he reached over and twined his fingers in hers. She wasn’t sure if she breathed at all during the entire first act. A deep sadness wrapped around her heart, like vines covering an old building until you couldn’t see what was under them.

When the music swelled and the lovers pledged their love with their bodies and their powerful, graceful movements, Adrian stroked his thumb along her palm and touched his head to hers.

Her heart picked up its pace and stoked the dwindling fire of hope that she should never have built in the first place. Even in the face of facts, of reality, she found one tiny ember of hope she couldn’t douse. She’d had a taste of love and found she wanted more.

Chapter Ten

A FOUL MOOD GRIPPED ADRIAN THE NEXT morning and wouldn’t let go. Though he and Natasha had spent a wonderful evening together, she’d been reserved, more quiet than usual on the trip back to Sonoma.

He should’ve known that he’d run into people who knew him in LA. But that was the trouble, he hadn’t thought. He’d gotten carried away with the details of the surprise date he’d cooked up with Coco’s help.

Well, apparently his surprise had backfired.

Maybe Natasha didn’t like wine. Maybe she thought vintners were a bunch of hick farmers. Maybe she thought he was a rich snob showing off. As if he’d intended for board members to fawn all over him.

Natasha
.

It was a truly beautiful name. For a beautiful woman. A woman who had stolen into his heart. Spending time with her had introduced him to feelings he’d never known. It struck him as strange that he’d heard about the feeling of falling in love—who hadn’t? God knew his sisters talked enough about it. And the media played it to the hilt.

But until he’d met Natasha he’d never
known
the feeling.

He’d only felt anything similar when playing hard in the flow of a hot polo match or when he’d made a great business deal.

But the flame Natasha ignited made all of those move one step down. One very, very big step down. And the feelings he had when around her didn’t feel like a flow. He felt captured. A web of energy had spun around him, into him, and he didn’t know where he ended and the energy began. He felt arrested, as though a hole had been punched into the fabric of reality and he’d fallen into a world that was just as crazy-making as people in love had reported. He’d never believed the reports. But for the past week he hadn’t been able to think straight. He’d flubbed the numbers for the irrigation order. He’d never done anything like that. He’d made a wrong turn off the freeway and ended up on a back road.

He didn’t make wrong turns.

Yet it was more than infatuation. He knew
that
feeling. What he felt for Natasha ran deep. Shook him. Made him think about his life differently. Hell, he imagined having a family with Natasha. Imagined what their children would look like.

And yet he hadn’t even slept with her.

If her behavior the previous night was any indication, he never would. They’d kissed once, when he’d dropped her at that damned café. After that, after she all but shooed him away, he’d considered following her to learn where she lived, to make sure he could find her again if she didn’t answer his calls. But she’d waited to see him go off in the limo, and he couldn’t tell the driver to circle back and follow her. He’d be stalking her. And the fact that he’d
considered
stalking her was a horrifying revelation.

He downed a quick espresso in his still-unfinished kitchen. Maybe he’d grab breakfast on the road before heading to the vineyard. Maybe he’d—

His phone chimed. He glanced at the screen.

Blair.

What the hell was Blair doing calling him? He hadn’t seen her since the polo match in the Hamptons.

“I’m on my way,” she said cheerily.

“Pardon me?”

“To Casa del Sole. Didn’t Coco tell you?”

“No.”

“Well, I am. Zoe’s determined for me to play in the match tomorrow and Coco wants my opinion of her calendar boys. And I want
you
to give me a proper tour of your new vineyard. Who knows, maybe I’ll buy one up there. I’m loving the country feel of this county.”

Blair.

An unstoppable force if ever there was one. He’d dated her for a while when she’d lived in Rome. Their families were sure they were perfect for each other.

But his mother had known otherwise.

Before she’d died she’d told Adrian to wait for
the one
. But when he’d asked how he’d know, his mother had only said he would.

Clearly the one wasn’t Blair. If his feelings for Natasha told him anything, it was that he’d made the right decision cutting things off with Blair. She’d moved on, he’d heard. She was dating a member of the royalty in Monaco. But if she was thinking of moving to Sonoma, maybe that affair had ended. Maybe she had some idea that he and she could start up again.

He checked the time. “I can take you around this morning.”

It was the last thing he needed, but she was a long-time friend of his sister’s, so he couldn’t be rude. Better for her to get a sense of the particulars of the wine business before she had her people phone the nearest real estate agent and get her a roster of vineyards for sale.

“Fabulous. I’m
dying
to see you.”

“But, Blair—”

“I know, you don’t have to say it. But I’m glad we can be friends. You’ll always be special to me, Adrian. I’ll see you in half an hour.”

She didn’t wait for his response before ending the call.

“I
love
this kitchen,” Blair exclaimed. “It’s like an old Italian farmhouse only with all the conveniences of modern life. I’ll never understand why you didn’t just continue living here. But then, I haven’t seen your new place.”

“You try living under the same roof with a parent,” Adrian said dryly.

Blair laughed. “Point taken.”

She opened the double doors of the Sub-Zero refrigerator and sighed. “Do you have
any
idea what it has taken for me to renovate the place my grandfather left me?”

Adrian shook his head and couldn’t help but smile. Projects that required that one keep track of details were not Blair’s strong suit.

“No, you wouldn’t.
Nightmare
. A raging and complete nightmare. We had to take out walls to put in plumbing and heating.” She closed the stainless steel doors and spun toward him. “But the old house looks marvelous, even if it has been a headache.” She waved her arm through the air, and the diamonds on her bracelets caught the sun. “I’m dying to see this garden Coco told me about.”

He had trouble imagining Blair as a farmer. As a vintner. It was likely a fancy that would pass soon enough.

He held the door to the garden for her. “Right this way.”

“My goodness—it’s huge!”

She slipped on the tile on the back terrace, and he caught her arm. He tried to talk her out of touring the vineyard in spiked sandals, but that warning fell flat.

As he looked up, he caught sight of a woman kneeling at the edge of one of the framed garden boxes. She looked remarkably like Natasha. He blinked.
Remarkably
like her. He steered Blair down the path toward the woman. He had to have a closer look. Just then the woman looked up.

It
was
Natasha.

Her eyes went wide.

His heart pinged in his chest.

“You actually
eat
out of the garden?” Blair asked without letting go of his arm.

“The staff does.” He pulled his arm away from Blair’s grasp. “I haven’t had much time for cooking lately up at my place.”

He walked over to where Natasha knelt beside the wooden grow box.

“Hello,” he said. “What are you doing here?”

She pushed her hair back from her face with the back of her gloved hand. “Putting in your pollinator garden. The starts. The larger plants will go in baskets over there.” She pointed with a spade.

“What a lovely gift. And a surprise. I’ll have to be careful what I mention to you in the future.”

“Pollinator garden?” Blair asked, ignoring Natasha.

“For butterflies and bees,” Adrian said, not taking his eyes off Natasha’s face. He knelt down. “You really shouldn’t have. But it’s one of the nicest gifts—and surprises—I can ever remember having received. But I’ll have to chastise my staff who helped you keep it a secret. I should’ve helped you with all this.”

The door to the kitchen banged open and Tammy, his staff supervisor, bounded out. She always had such excess energy, he should ask her what she ate.

“I see you’ve finally met our newest find,” Tammy said as she approached him. “Natasha knows plants better than Ilona ever did.” She turned to Natasha. “I meant to tell you, the paychecks are ready in the gift shop. Don’t forget to pick yours up before you head home tonight.”

Adrian watched color creep into Natasha’s face. Natasha
worked
for him? No wonder she’d behaved oddly last night. Right now all he wanted was to take her someplace private to talk. To explain. To… to what?

“Bees and butterflies,” Blair said in her sweet bell-like voice. She fingered the plant Natasha had been spading into the box. “How wonderful! I envy you,” she said to Natasha. “I know nothing about plants. If I buy a place here, maybe you can help me too. I
love
the idea of lots and lots of butterflies.”

“No poaching the help,” Tammy said good-naturedly, unaware of the private drama ricocheting all around her.

But Adrian was riveted to Natasha. Watching for any sign that she wanted to speak to him, that she wanted anything to do with him.

“If Mr. Tavonesi can spare me, perhaps I can show you the basics,” Natasha said.

He heard the tremble in her voice, but her words sent a clear message: he wasn’t invited in. Not now and maybe never again.

“I’d love that!” Blair said. “But, Adrian, darling, we’d better head off or we’ll be late. And your sisters will blame me as they
always
do.” She shot one of her red-carpet smiles over her shoulder. “Nice meeting you both.”

Natasha watched Adrian and the gorgeous woman walk out of the garden. The woman leaned on his arm. She wore ridiculously high-heeled shoes and a very, very short skirt. Her legs had muscles, though. She wasn’t the fashion-model type.

He hadn’t made introductions.

Of course he hadn’t—what would he say? Hi, this is the woman that I at first thought was a Renaissance countess and then considered an equal, but who I now find works in my kitchen garden?

She should’ve told him last night. Could’ve spared them both the embarrassment. Or maybe she was the only one embarrassed. But he’d appeared thrown. Shocked.

“Don’t mind him,” Tammy said. “He’s usually much friendlier than that. But he has so much on his mind this week what with the vintner’s meeting and all the new systems going in. And the polo match. Oh God, I forgot. I need to tell the caterer that we need seventeen more settings for the luncheon after. Adrian wants the team and their grooms to eat with the guests.”