‘I was enjoying you tasting it.’
It’s out before I can stop it and it’s quickly followed by a sharp cough from Dante as his own wine catches the back of his throat.
Really, Faye? Really?
Thank God no one else seems to have overheard. I focus on taking up the wine. I throw it back and get far too big a sampling; I swirl it with far too much gusto and attempt a spit. Bollocks.
You’d think with the force of my response I’d have nailed getting it in the dump bucket. Instead, I end up with an unattractive river running off my chin. I hurry to grab a napkin, but Rafael beats me to it, and as our eyes lock together once more, his finger and thumb are on my chin, angling my head back as he dabs away the mess I’ve made. Oh, God.
‘Nice?’ he murmurs, his eyes falling to my lips.
Oh, yes. Too nice.
And I don’t mean the wine. I actually can’t speak. My throat is wedged shut again and the whole room is falling away. It’s just me and him and this connection that is determined to exist against all the odds. And the truth is, I have no idea about the wine, because everything tastes and feels good with him this close.
His eyes flick away and he releases me so quickly, I almost slip from my stool, but as I follow his eye line I realise why. Dani’s watching us, the speculation in her gaze enough to tell me exactly what she’s thinking.
I give her a big grin, gesture to the glass in my hand and throw a thumbs up. She’s slow to return my smile, but when she does it seems genuine enough.
Diego calls for our attention and we all look to him as he starts to go through the next wine. I fixate on him. I don’t let my eyes stray. I don’t look at Dante unless he speaks to me and I don’t look at Rafael even when he does speak.
It doesn’t stop us accidentally brushing against one another, be it our fingers reaching for our glasses, a movement on our stool or a graze of the knee. Every slight contact sets my body alight, making me want, making me need, making me wish we were anywhere but here.
And alone. Very much alone.
CHAPTER NINE
‘SIGNOR PEREZ, are you joining us?’
I turn from the view to see Diego looking at me, his eyes narrowed. And I can’t blame him. It seems I’ve zoned out long enough for the rest of the party to be halfway across the courtyard on their way to the rear of the castle where there is to be a hands-on, or rather feet-on, demonstration of the traditional grape-stomping. Something Dani insisted she wanted to experience, and the team were more than happy to oblige in their desire to please me, their new employer.
I know I look less than pleased now and, though my scowl is directed wholly at myself, poor Diego won’t know that.
‘Si.’ I force a grin as I gesture for him to lead the way.
I should be happy. Dani is happy. My mother and aunt are getting along well—a miracle in itself—and Giovanni, technically Aunt Netta’s plus-one, seems to be more than happy entertaining the two of them. Everyone’s smiling and laughing and I want to be too. I want to feel at ease but, every time I’ve felt at ease this week, I’ve let Faye in or exposed a part of me I’ve long kept buried...
Up ahead, Dante trails behind the rest of the group, and as I near he turns to me, his grin alive with teasing.
‘So, come on, tell me all...’ he urges, his swift Italian for my ears only.
I look back to the wedding party, to my niece and nephew chattering excitedly as they race through the vineyard, their faces aglow with the bronze of the sun bouncing off the vines and the earth.
‘I don’t know what you mean.’
‘No?’ He tosses his jacket over his shoulder, the same jacket that warmed Faye’s shoulders in the wine cellar, and I feel the same weirdly possessive surge. It’s ridiculous, but my body doesn’t seem to care. I wanted to be the one to warm her, to caress her gooseflesh until it returned to silk, to murmur all the things I wanted to do when that wine trailed down her chin.
‘Anyone ever tell you you’re a rubbish liar, cousin?’
My laugh is tight. ‘Si. You. Just now.’
‘If you’re trying to keep it subtle you need to rethink all this...’
He waves a hand up and down my length and I frown. ‘What on earth are you talking about?’
He cocks his head to the side and bats his lashes. ‘This.’
Heat courses through me. Another damn blush! ‘Don’t be ridiculous, Dante.’