The Prince and the Wedding Planner
Her gaze moved to meet his. “How did you know?”
“Know what?”
“That this is my favorite wine.”
“I didn’t. But I recalled you drinking it after the wedding at the villa.”
“You’re a very observant man.”
“I try. I hope you’re equally as impressed with the dinner.”
“It certainly smells good.” She reached for her tablet. “Before we eat—”
“No work before dinner. It’ll ruin your appetite.”
“But we have so much to go over and not much time until the wedding.”
“There will be time tonight. I promise. But first, we eat.”
He led her to a private balcony. The view of the lush manicured lawn stretched out before her. This place, it was amazing. It was like something written in a storybook. And yet it was real. She wondered what it must have been like to grow up in a place like this.
“This is beautiful. I just love what I’ve seen of Patazonia.”
Leo stepped up next to her. “I get so busy that I rarely stop to appreciate the view.”
Was he saying that he didn’t regularly have romantic dinners here? The thought of him sharing this kind of moment with another woman soured her mood. She gave herself a mental shake. Where had that thought come from? It wasn’t like she had a claim on him.
When she went to turn, she realized just how close he was standing. Her heart pounded in her chest. When she inhaled, she breathed in the light scent of his spicy aftershave mingled with his manly scent. It was quite an intoxicating combination.
He didn’t move. He stood there right in front of her. All she had to do in that moment was to lift up on her tiptoes. Her gaze dipped to his mouth—his very kissable mouth. And then she could press her lips to his.
The temptation was more than she could take. After all, he was the one to set up this very intimate dinner. Surely, he expected more to happen than business. Right?
With him staring into her eyes, she lifted up on her tiptoes. The common sense in her head was drowned out by the pounding of her heart. His hands reached out to her, wrapping around her waist, drawing her closer.
She leaned forward—
Beep. Beep. Beep.
As though the spell had been lifted, Bianca pulled back.
Beep. Beep. Beep.
Leo inhaled an unsteady breath. “Sorry. It’s the kitchen timer.”
He turned and headed inside. Bianca paused on the balcony, trying to slow the pounding of her heart. What in the world had gotten into her?
Well, he was amazingly handsome. He was available—sort of. He was, after all, a prince. And she didn’t have a drop of royal blood—at least not that she knew of. And then the memory of her mother’s journal entry came rushing back to her.
The uncertainty cast over her and her siblings brought her feet back to the ground. What was she going to do if she wasn’t a blood Bartolini? Would her siblings look at her differently?
She pushed the troubling thoughts to the back of her mind. There was nothing she could do about her siblings and the fallout from their parents’ deaths now. The only thing she could control was giving Giselle the very best wedding and growing her business as a result.
This meal was going to be a challenge. How was she supposed to sit there as the last rays of the sun disappeared and the stars twinkled overhead and stare across the table at the most handsome man and keep her thoughts focused on work?
She walked to the galley kitchen. “Can I help?”
“Would you mind grabbing that basket of bread?”