Saved by the CEO (7 page)

He stalked back to the bookshelf. Grabbing a clean glass from the bar, he poured two more glasses of fernet and walked back to her. “Here,” he said, holding one of the glasses out. “Drink. Maybe you’ll start thinking more clearly.” Maybe he would, too.

“I don’t need to think clearly,” she replied. Nonetheless, she took the drink. “I need to leave town.”

“And go where?”

“I don’t know. Africa. New Zealand. Someplace where they can’t find me. I’ll figure something out. I just know I have to leave.

“No, damn it!” he said, slamming the bottle on the shelf. “You can’t!”

The air between them crackled with tension. Nico looked at Louisa cradling her glass with trembling hands and grew ashamed. Since when did he yell and slam objects?

Taking a deep breath, he began again, this time making sure his voice remained low and level. “Leaving town is the worst thing you can do.”

“How can you say that?”

Again, Nico wasn’t entirely sure. Several answers came to mind, but none of them felt completely whole or honest. The true, complete answer remained stuck in the shadows, unformed.

“Because the town needs you,” he said, grabbing the first reason that made sense. “You’ve become an important part of our community. Whether you believe in them or not—” she turned away at his pointed dig “—the people here believe in you.”

“Besides,” he added in a voice that was even lower than before, “if you run away, the press win. People will believe what’s written—the stories will start to sound true. Is that what you want? To give Luscious Louisa life?”

“No.”

“Then stay, and show the world you’ve got nothing to hide. That what the press is saying is nothing more than gossip.”

He let his reasoning wash over her. For several minutes, she said nothing, all her concentration focused on an invisible spot inside her drink. When she finally spoke, the words were barely a whisper. “What if you’re wrong?”

“I’m not.” It hurt to hear the doubt in her voice. Damn her ex for killing her trust. “Whatever happens, you already have three people on your side.”

“But last time...” She shook her head.

“Last time there was a trial, no? This time it is only gossip. In a few days the press will have moved on to a new scandal and forgotten all about Luscious Louisa. Then you go back to your life. Surely, you can handle a few days of whispers, can’t you?”

“You have no idea how many whispers I’ve handled in my lifetime,” she replied, looking up at last.

Finally, there was a spark. A bit of the fire he’d come to expect. “Good. Then, it’s settled. You’re staying here, where you belong.”

Louisa had opened her mouth to reply but stopped abruptly. He heard the sound of rustling outside on the terrace. She’d heard it, too, because the fingers holding her glass grew white with tension.

For the third time in less than an hour Nico could feel his temper rise. At this rate he would need an entire case of fernet to keep him from murdering the entire Italian media corps.

“Wait here,” he mouthed, then held an index finger to his lips. Moving as softly as possible, he headed toward the terrace door, which they’d accidentally left propped open, and peered around the corner. There was another rustle, followed by a flutter before a lark flew past his face. Nico started at the sudden movement, his cheeks turning hot. “Just a bird,” he said unnecessarily.

“This time,” Louisa replied.

She was right. This time. Sooner or later the paparazzi would get their shot. “Maybe you should stay with Dani and Rafe,” he said.

“I thought you didn’t want me running away.”

“I don’t, but I also want you safe.” He didn’t say it, but it wasn’t only the paparazzi he was worried about. There were also those unhinged few who would want to see if Luscious Linda was as sexy as the gossip pages implied. Until the story died down, trespassers were a real threat.

“I don’t know...”

Surely they were past her insecurity at this point, weren’t they? “What’s the problem? As long as you are staying with them, you won’t have to worry about the paparazzi. Rafe will make sure no one bothers you.” Nico would make sure he did.

“Rafe and Dani have a business to run. I’m not going to ask them to waste their time babysitting me.”

“No one is babysitting anyone.”

“Aren’t they? If they have to spend their time protecting me from all the paparazzi in town then it’s babysitting,” Louisa replied. “I’m better off grabbing the bus.” She took a sip of her drink and grimaced. “What is this stuff?”

“Fernet-Branca.”

“I hate peppermint,” she replied, and set the glass on the coffee table.

“It is an acquired taste.” Her change of topic wasn’t going to work. She could complain about the drink all she wanted, he wasn’t going to let her leave Monte Calanetti.

Tossing back his own drink, he slapped the glass down before the liquor even started cooling his insides. “If you don’t want to stay with Rafe and Dani,” he said, “then you’ll just have to stay with me.”

“Excuse me?”

If the situation weren’t so serious, he’d laugh at the shock on her face. It was the perfect solution, though. “You will be able to avoid the paparazzi in the village, plus you’ll be close enough to keep an eye on the palazzo. Can you think of a better location?”

“Hell. When it freezes over.”

This time he did laugh. Here was the feisty Louisa he was used to.

“I’m serious,” she said. “If I don’t want Rafe and Dani playing babysitter, I sure as hell don’t want you doing it.

She was being stubborn again. It wouldn’t work any more than trying to change the subject had. “Fine. If it makes you feel better, you can work while you are staying with me.”

“Work?”

“Yes. I told you, since the wedding, we’ve been inundated with orders for Amatucci Red. I can barely keep up as it is, and with the harvest and the festival coming up, I’m going to need as much help as I can get. Unless you don’t think you can handle filing invoices and processing orders.”

“You—you’d trust me to do that?”

“Why wouldn’t I?”

“What about Luscious Louisa?”

God, how it hurt to see her looking so vulnerable. Tears rimming her eyes and her lower lip trembling. Silently, he damned Steven Clark for dragging her down with him.

He might have promised to keep his distance, but at this moment, he couldn’t stop himself from closing the space between them. He brushed his thumb across her quivering lip.

“Like I told you before, anyone who has spent time with you knows you’re not the icy seductress the press makes you out to be.”

“Thank you.” A tear slipped out the corner of her eye and he fanned it away with his hand. So vulnerable and so beautiful. It shocked him how badly he suddenly needed to keep her safe. But then, this afternoon had been full of shocking reactions he’d never experienced before.

There was one reaction he recognized, though. The stirring in his jeans as he breathed in her scent. He brushed the hair from her face, the strands reminding him of corn silk. Promise be damned. He wanted to kiss her. Quickly, he stepped away before he could take action. Now was not the time to push his luck. “Go pack a bag,” he told her. “We’ll leave before the paparazzi realize you’re gone.”

* * *

You made the right decision
, Louisa reminded herself on the way upstairs. Hiding out
was
better than running away, and Amatucci Vineyards did make the ideal hiding place. Plus she would be earning her keep. It wasn’t as though she was going to become Nico’s kept woman. She’d insist on the entire arrangement being professional and platonic.

Why, then, was her stomach in knots? Maybe, she thought as her eyes fell on the suitcase in the corner, because she’d gone from leaving town to working for Nico in less than an hour without knowing how she made the journey.

Or maybe it was because saying yes had become a whole lot easier once Nico had brushed her cheek.

CHAPTER FOUR

L
USCIOUS
L
OUISA
’
S
L
ATEST
C
ONQUEST
?

“T
OO
BAD
THEY
couldn’t find a proper synonym.
Conquest
spoils the alliteration.” Nico said, turning the newspaper over.

Louisa didn’t share his sense of humor. The headline screamed across the front page along with a photograph of her and Nico cropped from one of the official wedding shots. Apparently the photographer Nico kicked off her balcony had done some research following the altercation. The article described how the “enraged” vintner had come to her rescue and implied the two of them had been an item for weeks. Or, as the article put it, she’d managed to charm the richest man in town.

This was exactly what she didn’t need after a restless night. There was still a large part of her dying to grab the first bus to Florence. Screaming loudly, in fact. She couldn’t stop thinking how easily she had agreed to Nico’s idea. Sure, he had a point about staying and proving the press wrong, but to put herself in his care like this? It reminded her of how things had begun with Steven. He’d liked to swoop in and take care of everything when they were dating, too.
Only you’re not dating Nico
, she reminded herself, staring down at her breakfast pastry.

And unlike with Steven, this time she had age and hindsight in her favor. She may have agreed to stay here, but she would keep her bags packed. That way if the situation changed and the walls started closing in, she could be out of here in a flash.

Meanwhile, her breakfast partner was enjoying his pastry as though he didn’t have a care in the world.

“I don’t know how you can be so cavalier,” she said watching him chew his pastry. Anyone would think he liked being dragged through the tabloid mud.

Nico shrugged. “How am I supposed to act?”

Indignant, perhaps? Angry? Some
show
of emotion. He’d practically exploded when he discovered the paparazzo yesterday, and that had nothing to do with him. These headlines were personal. “The article makes you sound like a lovesick fool.”

“Which anyone who knows me will immediately recognize as a complete fabrication. I’m not and have never been the lovesick type.”

A fact that should comfort her, seeing as how she was now sleeping under his roof. It didn’t, though. Instead, she felt a dull ache in the pit of her stomach.

“So what was yesterday? An anomaly?”

He looked away. “Yesterday I caught a man breaking into your home. I was upset for your safety. This,” he said as he waved his cup over the tabloid “is entirely different.”

“How? It’s still an invasion of privacy. And the things they wrote about us...” As though Nico were some kind of fly trapped in her web. She shivered. “Surely you care what people think.”

“I already told you, anyone who knows me will recognize it for the garbage it is.”

“Why is that?” Not that she wasn’t glad, but she wanted to know why he was so certain.

A strange shadow appeared behind his eyes, turning them darker than usual. “Like I said, I’m not the lovesick kind,” he replied. “Now, the fact they referred to me as the ‘royal vintner’? That is something I hope people
will
believe. You cannot buy better publicity.”

“Glad you’re happy.” One of them should be.

She took a look around the surroundings that were to be her home away from home for the next few days. Worn out and uncomfortable last night, she’d insisted on being shown straight to her room. Nico’s rust-and-green kitchen was warm but dated, like the kitchen of a man who didn’t spend too many meals at home. Did that mean he didn’t entertain much either? Would people notice he had company?

A sudden, horrifying thought struck her. Now that Nico had been identified, the press would start stalking him, too. For all they knew, a telephoto lens could be trained on them right now. Reflexively, she looked over her shoulder at the kitchen window.

“Relax,” Nico told her. “I drew the curtains when we got home last night. No one can see you.”

Sure, they couldn’t see her now. But eventually... “This was a mistake. I’m better off just going to Florence.”

“No one is going anywhere except to the winery.” Nico’s hand reached across the table and grabbed her wrist, preventing her from standing. “Trust me, everything is going to be fine. In a few days, another scandal will erupt and the press will forget all about you.”

Louisa looked down at the bronzed hand gently encircling her arm. His thumb brushing her pulse point, the tiny movement as soothing as a caress. That his slightest touch could calm her was disturbing in itself.

Slipping free, Louisa reached for the newspaper and flipped it back over. The picture on the front page showed the two of them with their heads together in quiet conversation. Arm slung casually over the back of her chair, he was leaning forward as she spoke in his ear, her hand resting lightly on his forearm. She remembered the moment. The orchestra had started playing, and she’d moved closer so she could comment on the song selection. Thanks to the angle, they looked more like a couple who had eyes only for each other.

A second photo greeted her when she turned the page. The two of them dancing. No need to mess with the angle this time. Their gazes were locked; their bodies pressed together like lovers’. Must have been taken only moments before Nico had kissed her.

What if there was a photo of them kissing? Louisa’s stomach dropped. The blogosphere would have a field day. Her horror must have shown on her face, because when she looked up, Nico was watching her. “If they had a photo, they would have used it,” he said, reading her mind.

He was right, Louisa thought, letting out her breath. “The one they used is bad enough. Did we really look like that?” Like they couldn’t get close enough.

“Considering what followed, I would have to say yes.”

That’s what she was afraid of. Louisa dropped her head on her arms with a groan. “It’s only a couple of photographs,” he said, patting the back of her head. “We’ll survive.”