Luscious (21 page)

Sean woke, unsure what had disturbed him. Olivia was tucked into the curve of his hips and his arm encircled her waist. Her hair tickled his nose and he smiled, inhaling her flowery scent. She felt so right beside him. He never wanted to leave this bed, never wanted to leave her side, never wanted to go home to New York without her, but he couldn’t deny she belonged here—and he didn’t. Dread stole through him, making him feel cold.

After their picnic yesterday, she had slipped on a chef coat, put her hair in a ponytail, and begun peeling apples like she’d been looking forward to it all day. He had stayed to watch her work, admiring the way she could carry on a conversation with Marco, half in Italian, half in English without once stopping the motion of her knife. When she had left the kitchen to talk to her mother, he had watched Marco and Alessandro cook, trading spaces at the stove and shifting to give each other more room when necessary. In contrast, Sean had moved farther out of the fray until he could no longer deny that he was in the way.

A muffled trill from the chair next to the bed made him realize what had awakened him. The phone sounded again and he sat up. He had rescued their clothes from the swamp in the bathroom last night but had forgotten to check his messages.

He slid his phone out of his pants pocket. Four texts? He tapped the screen. One from his mother and three from Colin. This couldn’t be good.

He checked Colin’s first.
No
matter
what
Mom
says, do not come home. I didn’t do it and it’s going to be fine.

Panic spread through him. He had lived in fear of this moment for years, worrying every time the phone rang that it was Colin, calling from a bar, a party, the emergency room at the hospital.

His mother’s message read:
I
think
Colin
got
arrested. Call me ASAP.

His brother’s other messages were variations on the first, but Sean didn’t believe him. Even if Colin hadn’t actually been charged, any little thing could jeopardize his release from probation. Even this late in the game, he could still be sent to jail.

God, what day was it? Tuesday already? The hearing was tomorrow. Shame chilled him as he realized how little he had thought of his brother since he’d been gone. He rolled to the side of the bed and punched Colin’s number into his phone.

“Is everything okay?” Olivia’s sleepy voice sounded worried.

“I don’t know.” He evaded her hand, reaching for his leg and went into the bathroom, closing the door. The phone rang and rang. What was he going to say when it went to voice mail? He didn’t have to decide because voice mail never picked up. He switched to texting and paused. What did he want to know?
Are
you
OK?
That was a good start.

He called his mother, but she didn’t answer either.

Selfish. He’d been selfish to leave New York before Colin’s hearing. He should have known the kid couldn’t hold it together without him. He strode back into the bedroom and grabbed his clothes from the chair. Even if he got on a plane immediately, he was at least sixteen hours away from New York. Could he get home in time to help Colin? Damned if he wasn’t going to try. He found his leather attaché case next to the desk, swiftly repacking it with necessities. He didn’t want to waste time booking a flight and dealing with the language barrier. He’d just go to the airport and take the first and fastest flight back home.

Olivia rose from the bed. “What are you doing?”

“Colin’s in trouble. I have to go home.”

She reached his side and wrapped her arms around him. “I’ll go with you.”

He looked down at her. She was willing to go back to Norton, to all the things that had made her miserable, just to support him? Now he really loved her.

He brushed her bangs out of her eyes and dropped a grateful kiss on her lips. She truly was the most amazing woman, but he couldn’t allow her to come back to New York with him. He wasn’t that selfish. He’d known it when he woke up this morning. She belonged here in Verona with her family. She’d come here to build a new life and she had blossomed, cooking great food and entertaining the guests with the cooking classes. Her happiness was a beautiful thing to see, and he would never forgive himself if he ruined her fresh start by dragging her back to Norton into misery and troubles. Selfishness had led him to leave Norton when Colin needed him most. He wouldn’t compound his sins by ripping Olivia away from Villa Farfalla just when she was settling in.

He hugged her tight, returning her embrace, savoring the feel of her sleep-warm skin against his own. He bent to inhale the flowers in her hair one last time and press his lips against the smooth skin where her neck met her shoulder. His arms tightened convulsively around her and his body hardened. She pressed closer, caressing him from shoulder to thigh in long strokes that made him long to be inside her again. He closed his eyes, embracing the fantasy of making her his forever.

Then he let it go.

He stepped back, putting necessary distance between them, and shook his head. “There’s no need for you to come with me. There’s probably nothing I can do, but I have to go. You should stay here.”

She looked at him in bewilderment. “And what? You’ll see me later?”

He didn’t say anything.

“Sean? I thought—”

He saw doubt in her eyes and felt like he’d been punched in the gut. He forced himself to continue packing. “It’s not your problem, Olivia. Stay here with your family.” He heard her take a sharp breath and then silence. He risked a glance to the side and saw that she was picking up her clothes.

When she was dressed, she raised her face to his. Her eyes were a dangerous green, darker than he’d ever seen them. “I understand you need to help your brother, Sean, I really do. Of course he’s important to you. Your protective instinct is part of what I love about you, but I’m not getting an
I’ll call you when I get home
or
I’ll come back as soon as I can
vibe from you.”

Sean said nothing, helplessly watching her come to her own conclusion. Her expression gave nothing away, but he knew from the tense set of her shoulders and the clench of her jaw that he had hurt her. “You’re not going to call me when you get home, are you?”

“I think it’s better if I don’t.” Better for her to start her new life unencumbered.

Her cheeks flooded with color. “I feel like such an idiot. You felt sorry for me, didn’t you? Poor, frigid Olivia needs some good loving to fix her right up.”

“No.” At least in this he could be honest. “I’m just a selfish bastard. I wanted you. I’ve wanted you for years, Olivia.”

“And now that you’ve had me, you’re done. Wasn’t good enough for you, huh? Couldn’t hold your interest for more than a week? The story of my life. I just wish you hadn’t pretended to enjoy yourself so much.”

The bitterness in her voice froze him to the core. He couldn’t leave her thinking that. Some good had to come out of this sacrifice. “You are incredible.” He grasped her arms. “You exceeded my wildest fantasies.”

“Don’t mention fantasies to me.” She shrugged his hands away from her body and bent to pick up her shoes. “We’ve known each other for too long to play that game any longer. It was never just a fantasy for me. Now that I see how easy it is for you to leave, I’m sorry I thought it could be anything more. God, you’re the cold one, Sean.” He saw tears rise in her eyes, but she blinked them away. “I hope you can help your brother. I wish…” She paused. “Never mind. The number for the taxi service is printed on the phone. Good luck.”

The door shut quietly behind her. He didn’t blame her for making
good
luck
sound like
fuck
you
, but it took him a minute to shake off his grief. He’d done the right thing. Colin needed him and Olivia didn’t, but he still felt like he was making a mistake as he reached for the telephone.

Olivia ignored the knock at her door and the voices calling her name. She stayed in bed, glad her door was locked. She wasn’t ready for kitchen duty yet. Her food would probably kill someone à la
Like
Water
for
Chocolate
.

Sean was gone. Thinking about last night felt like fingering a bad bruise, sharp pain and then a sick, drifting sense in her middle. He had never wanted a relationship, just a quick fling, easily abandoned. She sighed and heaved herself out of bed, feeling heavy inside, as if someone had carved out her chest and replaced it with rocks. She stood under scalding water in the shower for a long time.

Getting dressed seemed to take forever. Finally, she made it to the stairs but she couldn’t force herself to go into the kitchen. She looped around the staircase and walked out the back door toward the vineyard. The guests were going in to the village again today, shopping and having lunch at a
trattoria
. This afternoon, they would tour a cheese shop and learn how the local varieties were made. When they left, then she would go to the kitchen and begin prep for
la
Sagra
. The thought made her want to go back to bed.

She sat down on the soft ground cover in between two rows of vines. Looking up at the fat grapes, she thought her father must be pleased, although she knew size and sugar content didn’t always equate. She would have to ask him when the harvest would begin. Now that was something she could handle. Mindlessly picking grapes for hours on end was just her speed. She’d beg for a spot on the crew. She shivered, but the chill in the morning air wasn’t enough to drive her back inside. She wrapped her arms around herself and raised her face to the sun.

A shadow passed over her eyelids. “Your mother is looking for you.” Her father’s voice was amused.

“What else is new? Do you think she’ll find me?”

“Not out here. You’re safe.”

“Good.” She shaded her eyes and looked up at him. “Sean is gone,” she ventured slowly.

He nodded and thankfully said nothing.

“I don’t want to go back to Norton.”

Her father shrugged and plopped down next to her. “So don’t.”

“But Mamma is going to kill me. I don’t want to run the restaurant anymore. Now that Joe and Marlene are both there, there is nothing for me to do. My day is a joke. I’m useless.”

“That’s my favorite girl you are talking about,” he chided her. His eyebrows rose, two sharp arcs. “Did I ever tell you why we left New York so suddenly after your wedding?”

“Nonna wanted to come to Verona?”

He shook his head. “Your mother was lost without the restaurant.”

“But she insisted on giving it to me!”

“She wanted you to have it, but it had been her life for so long, she didn’t know what to do. She was so proud of you, so happy you loved the work, but she felt useless too.”

Olivia scowled at him.

He grinned. “How else could she feel when you came home from that fancy cooking school and started telling her how to make pasta? When you insisted we needed to change the menu to keep up with the times? When you were right? Your mamma couldn’t get away fast enough, but she was so proud of you. She just needed to find her place again. Just like you. We came to Verona at Nonna’s insistence, but your mamma was the one who needed to find a new home, a new passion.”

Olivia’s heart began to beat faster. Her throat felt thick with the beginning of understanding. “I want to sell the restaurant to Marlene and Joe.”

He shrugged. “So do it.”

It wasn’t that simple. It couldn’t be…could it?

He chuckled. “Ah, my girls. So much alike. Stubborn to the core, the both of you.”

Olivia felt a void yawn wide inside her. “It can’t be as easy as you make it sound.”

He smiled kindly. “No, probably not, but you should talk to your mamma. Ask her about how she felt when she left Norton. She’s probably recovered enough to talk about it by now. Possibly.”

Olivia shook her head. “No way.”

“Talk to her,
cara
. Give her a chance to understand. Tell her how you feel.”

“I can’t, Papà. She doesn’t get it. She just tells me what to do, and she doesn’t ever listen. And then I do what she wants because I hate to disappoint her.”

“You don’t disappoint her,
cara
. She thinks the sun rises and sets on her girl. You should hear her in the market. My daughter this, Chameleon that—”

“That’s just what I mean, Papà. I can’t run Chameleon and now she expects me to help at the villa too. I can’t do it anymore. I don’t want to do it, and I don’t know how to tell her.”

He shrugged philosophically. “Well, you didn’t come here not to tell her, did you?”

He had her there.

She rested her head against his shoulder. “Can I work in the vineyard instead of the kitchen?”

He put his arm around her. “You’re going to have to face her sometime.”

“I know. I will, but not yet. I need a plan first.”

“You and your plans. Ever since you were a little girl you never took a step unless you were sure of how your foot would land.” He leaned over to kiss her forehead. “Of course you can work in the vineyard.”

He pushed himself to his feet. “There’s a lot we need to do to get ready for the harvest. I’m off to pick up some barrels this morning, but I can keep you busy this afternoon.”

“The busier the better.” She wanted to work until she couldn’t think.

Her father’s grin was a sharp slash across his tan face. “This is the year,
cara
. This is the year of the next La Farfalla.”

“I hope there is something good about this year.”

He pulled her to her feet and hugged her tightly. “I’m sorry about your man,
cara
. I was starting to like him.”

She nodded, feeling the prick of tears again. She eased out of his arms and headed toward the villa, deciding she would cook after all. She needed something to keep her mind off Sean until her father got back. She pulled open the door of the lower kitchen.

Hearing raised voices, she climbed the stairs.

Alessandro stood near the dish room with two men she didn’t recognize and one she did—Vincenzo.

“Am I interrupting something?” she asked.

“No.” Alessandro’s smile was strained. “They were just leaving.”

Olivia held out her hand to Vincenzo. “I’m Olivia Marconi.”

He tucked an envelope into his jacket pocket before he shook her hand. “Vincenzo Ferrari.” The press of his palm against hers was cool and brief. The other two men stepped back slightly as if they didn’t want or expect to be introduced. All three men were dressed in the sharp fashion Italian men had perfected. Olivia barely controlled a shudder. Vincenzo was definitely a player. He might be ten or fifteen years older than her ex-husband, but he had the same slick charm, the same air of entitlement, and the same atrocious effect on her nerves. Why did her wonderful cousin have such terrible taste in men?

“Are you here to see Gia?” she asked.

He nodded casually. “We have a brunch date, but I thought I would say hello to my old friend Alessandro Bellin first.”

“I didn’t realize you were acquainted.” The back of her neck prickled.

The door from the dining room swung open and Gia entered the kitchen, making a beeline for Vincenzo. “I thought that was your car. You’re early!” She leaned up to kiss his cheek.

Vincenzo put his arm around Gia. “It was nice to meet you, Olivia. I’m looking forward to
la
Sagra
dell’Uva
. Villa Farfalla’s hospitality is legendary.”

She forced herself to return his smile. Of course Gia had invited him. Everyone in the village would be at the party. “Nice to meet you too,” she said.

Her cousin hung back as Vincenzo moved toward the door, trailed by his silent entourage.

“Olivia!” Her cousin’s sharp whisper drew her attention away from the door. Gia clapped a hand to her chest. “I’m so thoughtless to desert you when your heart must be broken. I just heard about Sean. I’m so sorry.”

“What happened to Sean?” Alessandro asked.

Gia smacked his arm.

Olivia felt her cheeks burn. “Nothing. I do not want to talk about it. I don’t even want to think about it.” She faced Alessandro. “Let’s just cook.” Anything was better than thinking. Pain pricked her memory.

Marco poked his head around the divider. “I’ll put you to work, Chef Olivia,” he said. “And you too, Bella Giovanna.” He’d been so quiet she hadn’t realized he was in the dish room.

Gia groaned. “Zia already roped me into kitchen duty for the rest of the week. There goes my manicure.”

Olivia gave her a gentle push toward the door. “Go while you can, then. I’ll see you tomorrow.” She didn’t want her cousin forcing sympathy on her right now.

Alessandro followed Gia out of the kitchen, probably to get the scoop on Olivia and Sean. Gossip traveled fast along the grapevines in Verona.

She gave Marco a warning look. “Just give me a list.”

***

Sean stared at the woman behind the airport counter. “What?”

“I’m sorry, sir, but your credit card has been declined. Do you have another one?”

He shook his head. No, he didn’t have another one. He had just brought the one, thinking it would be easier to keep track of his expenses. Now he saw the flaw in that logic. “I used this card to purchase my ticket and I have identification.” He kept his voice calm and reasonable. “I don’t want to buy a new ticket. I just want to make some changes to my itinerary. Can you call my credit card company? The number is right here on the card.”

“Sir, I’m sorry, but I need a valid card to make the changes.” Her voice was firm. She glanced over his shoulder at the next customer in the line.

He stepped sideways into her line of vision. “This is a valid card. It’s mine and I pay the bill in full every month. A simple phone call, please. There must be some mistake. I need to get home as quickly as possible.” Desperation bled into his voice.

She reached for the telephone and dialed, either moved by his plea or deciding it was the quickest way to get rid of him. Sean didn’t care as long as it got him on the second flight. There were only two flights that would get him out of here in time to make Colin’s hearing, and he’d already missed the earlier one. He watched her punch numbers into the phone and waited.

After a few moments, she nodded and relief made him take a deep breath. “You see, it was all a mistake,” he said as she hung up the telephone.

“No mistake. This card is expired.” She opened a drawer and pulled out a pair of scissors.

Sean snatched the card out of her hand. He pointed at the expiration date. “It doesn’t expire for two weeks!”

“According to your credit card company, this card has been deactivated. Did you get a new one recently and forget to destroy the old one?”

“I’ve been using this credit card for years.” He put the card in his wallet and backed away from the desk, hoping she wouldn’t call security. He walked down the concourse until he felt calm enough to call his credit card company himself. They gave him the same information, plus more. Yes, he did have a new card. It had been activated from his home phone, and there was no way for him to use his old card. At least they offered to overnight a card to Verona, but that would be too late. Sean was determined to find a way out of Verona on the ten thirty flight, so he could get home and kill the only person who could be responsible for the mix-up. Colin.

He ended the call and stared at his phone for a moment, refusing to allow rage and frustration to overpower logic. He didn’t need a credit card. He needed money, but every person he knew in Italy was at Villa Farfalla and probably hated him by now. He closed his eyes, trying to think, but all he could see was Olivia’s face as she blinked away tears. Her eyes had held disappointment but not surprise, reminding him of the way Mrs. Russo had looked when he appeared in her hotel with the divorce papers. He had done the right thing for Olivia, so why did it sting so much? He felt himself sink a little lower as he realized there was one person at the villa who might help him.

He called up the contacts in his phone, selected Russo, and dialed.