The Italian's Unexpected Heir

He turned his head to look at her and then turned away. “Not about this.”

She stifled a sigh. Had they really come full circle? “Is this about Paris?”

“Yes. And no.”

She normally considered herself a patient person. After all, to be a good wedding planner, you needed to remain calm at all times, even when the bride was having an utter meltdown and blaming the whole world. Right now Sylvie would give anything to be dealing with a nervous bride and not a stubborn Enzo.

Sylvie straightened her shoulders. She wasn’t backing off. “You need to tell me what’s on your mind because this guessing game isn’t working for me. If you’re mad about me being a virgin—”

“No. It’s not that. And I wasn’t mad that you were a virgin. I was mad that I didn’t know.” He turned to her. Pain evident in his eyes. “If I had known, I would have...” He paused. “I would have backed away.”

“Why? Do you have a thing against virgins?”

“No. Of course not.” He shook his head. “But you should have shared that moment with someone special—someone you love.”

“Oh.” This time she was the one who glanced away. Heat licked at her cheeks.

CHAPTER TWO

HE WAS MUCKING up this conversation. Royally.

And worst of all, he was hurting Sylvie.

Enzo inwardly groaned. She had a heart of gold and deserved someone better than him. She should have a man who had it all together. Someone who could look at her like she’d hung the stars.

That was why he’d been keeping his distance. He’d suspected before they flew to Paris that she might have some feelings for him, but other times he was certain he was just reading more into their friendship than was there.

And then she’d kissed him in front of the Eiffel Tower. Was it awful of him to admit that he hadn’t seen it coming? Not at all.

Of course, that might have been because he’d just had one of the most important conversations of his life. There had been an offer to buy Barto Vineyard as well as the entire estate.

Now, of course, this hadn’t been the first offer for the estate. Over the years, his father had had plenty of inquiries. All of which his father had immediately dismissed. To his father, this place—this land—it was in his soul. He needed it as much as he needed his next breath.

However, Enzo now saw the estate in a much different view. This may be where his family had started, but it was also where that family had splintered apart. The secrets that were kept within the stone walls of the villa all these years were like poison, killing the family that he’d once known.

Now one sister lived in Patazonia and was renouncing her Italian citizenship in order to become a princess. And his other sister had left the mainland to live on a Mediterranean island—far from home. It was though his sisters couldn’t wait to get as far away from this place as they could. And maybe they were right.

Maybe it was time for him to move on—time for him to forge a new life somewhere far from Tuscany and all the memories tied up in this place.

And that was why he hadn’t immediately dismissed the offer to buy the estate. But he hadn’t accepted the offer, either. He’d needed time to think it over. And that was what he’d been doing ever since they’d returned from Paris. Thinking. And thinking. And thinking some more.

And at last, he’d come to a decision.

Not an easy decision. Not that he’d expect something this big, this profound, to be made easily. But now that he solely owned the estate by default—as both of his sisters had found their happiness elsewhere—the decision was solely his to make.

And now it was time to share the news with Sylvie.

He glanced over at her, knowing how this was going to crush her. His chest tightened. “Sylvie, there’s something I need to tell you.”

The color leeched from her face. “What is it?”

She was so pale now that he was worried about her. “Do you feel all right?”

“The news. What is it?”

He hesitated. “Maybe we should sit down.”

“No. I’m fine right here. What is it you wanted to tell me?”