“I told you, I like it.”
“But describing it as nice is what people say to be polite. I want to know what’s missing.” There, he’d said it. There was something missing and it was going to drive him crazy until he figured it out.
He looked around at the white walls. The modern artwork. The two pieces of sculpture. One of a stallion rearing up. The other of a gentle mare. They reminded him of home. When he turned around, he noticed Lizzie unzipping her boots and easing them off. Her pink-painted toes stretched and then pointed as though she were a ballerina as she worked out all of the muscles. When she murmured her pleasure at being free of the boots, he thought he was going to lose it. It took every bit of willpower to remain in his spot and not go to her.
He turned his back. He tried to think of something to do. Somethin
g to keep him from going to her. But there was nothing that needed straightening up. No dirty dishes in the sink. In fact, he spent very little time here. For the most part, he slept here and that was it. The rest of his time was spent either downstairs in the ristorante or at the vineyard, checking on his grandfather.
“You know what’s missing?” Her voice drew his attention.
He turned around and tried to ignore the way her short black skirt had ridden even higher on her thighs. “What would that be?”
“There are no pictures. I thought there’d be one of you with your grandfather.”
Dante glanced around, realizing she was right. He didn’t have a single picture of anyone. “I’m sorry. I don’t have any pictures here. They are all at my family’s home.”
“Do they live far from here?”
He shrugged. “It’s a bit of a drive. But not that far. I like to go home on the weekends.”
“But isn’t the restaurant open?”
“It’s open Saturday. But then we’re closed Sunday and Monday. So my weekend is not the traditional weekend.”
“I see. And your grandfather, is he with your family?”
Dante nodded. “He lives with my father and older brother.”
Her brows drew together but she didn’t say anything. He couldn’t help but be curious about her thoughts. Everything about this woman poked at his curiosity.
“What are you wondering?”
She shook her head. “Nothing.”
“Go ahead. Say what’s on your mind.”
“You mentioned a lot of men. Are there no women?”
“Afraid not. Unless you count my aunts, but they don’t live there even though they are around so much that it feels like they do.” He didn’t want to offer a detailed explanation of why there were no women living at the vineyard. He tried to avoid that subject at all costs. He took it for granted that the DeFiore men were to grow old alone. But that was a subject best left for another day.
“Sounds like you have a big family.”
“That’s the understatement of the century.” Anxious to end this line of conversation, he said, “We should get some sleep. Tomorrow will be here before we know it.”
“You’re sure you want me to stay here?” She stared directly at him.
Their gazes connected and held. Beyond the beauty of her eyes, there was something more that drew him to her—a vulnerability. In that moment, he longed to ride to her rescue and sweep her into his arms. He’d hold her close and kiss away her worries.
Lizzie glanced away, breaking the special moment.
Was she thinking the same thing as him? Did she feel the pull of attraction, too? Not that he was going to act on his thoughts. It wasn’t as though he couldn’t keep himself in check. He could and would be a gentleman.
“I’ll deal with it. After all, you said this is what my grandfather agreed to. There are a couple of guest rooms down the hallway.” He pointed to the right. And then for good measure he added, “And the master suite is in that direction.” His hand gestured to the left. “Plenty of room for both of us.”
“My luggage hasn’t arrived yet. I have nothing to sleep in.”
“I can loan you something.”