The Italian's Unexpected Heir

Frustration balled up in her stomach. She didn’t want to wait. What exactly did he have planned? With Enzo it could be anything. But she’d never been so excited for anything in her life.

She placed her hand over her tiny baby bump. “We’re going to see your daddy today, little one. I don’t know how it’ll work out, but I promise, no matter what, we’re both going to love you with all of our hearts.”

* * *

He wasn’t sure this was going to work.

He wasn’t even sure she would show up.

Enzo straightened his tie for the fourth or fifth time. Maybe he should have invited her to dinner in person. But he’d hoped to capture her attention with the notes. But did it work? Would she show up?

He’d been working nonstop on this surprise since he’d arrive in Florence a week ago. Gia had phoned a few times to ask his input on the renovations at the villa. They were growing closer once more. It sounded like she already had a line on some workers to launch the project. With the villa safely in his sister’s hands, he could focus on his own work.

He’d paid double-time to have a crew work round the clock on his surprise for Sylvie. It wasn’t complete, but it was far enough along that she would get the idea.

He moved to the table in the middle of the room with the white tablecloth and two red taper candles. He’d already lit them. Maybe that was a mistake. What if she was late? The candles would melt down and not look nice. But he’d wanted to have the mood set for when she arrived—if she arrived.

“Mr. Bartolini—” the head of a string quartet approached him with a violin in hand “—would you like us to begin playing?”

“Not yet. You can start just as soon as—” What did he call her? His girlfriend? The mother of his baby? “—as soon as my guest arrives.”

If she shows up...

He had caterers in the back keeping food warm to serve an elegant, hopefully long dinner. He’d tried to pull out all of the stops tonight, but to be honest, he’d never planned an evening like this so he wasn’t sure if he was missing anything or not.

He started to pace. He yanked at his buttoned collar. It felt too tight. He wasn’t sure about any of this, including his suit. Maybe he should—

Tinkle. Tinkle.

The bell above the front door alerted him that someone had arrived.

Please let it be Sylvie.

He turned and in the dimmed light, he made out her very familiar petite form. Boy, had he missed her. He’d missed everything about her. But tonight wasn’t about him; it was about her. And showing her that he was the right man for her.

* * *

She’d checked the address three times.

It was a storefront. And it didn’t look occupied. Though the soft glow of light shone through the white curtains over the windows.

Certain she had the right place, Sylvie opened the door. A little bell rang out her arrival. She stepped inside. The overhead lights were dimmed and a violin started playing. What in the world...?

Her gaze moved to the single table in the middle of the room. There were two table settings and candles. In the center of the table was a bud vase with a single long-stem red rose. Her heart swooned. Had Enzo set all of this up for her? And where was he?

It was then that he stepped out of the shadows and approached her. He smiled but it didn’t quite reach his eyes. Was he as nervous as she was?

“Thank you for coming,” he said.

“Enzo, what is all of this?”

“This is my new store, Barto Wines.”

“You’re opening a wine store?”

He nodded. “It’s something that I’d been planning to mention to my father when he had his accident. I abandoned the idea while trying to navigate the aftermath of my parents’ deaths. But now seemed to be the right time to move to Florence—”

“You’re moving here?” That was something she hadn’t expected. Not at all. “But why not France, like you’d talked about?”