“Vitticio?” she gasped.
“Yes, Zia. Catarina is working for Valentini, and we’re visiting some of the other wineries’ tasting rooms.”
“But Vitticio?” her aunt asked. “Paolo è cattivo,” she muttered under her breath.
“Zia, you exaggerate.”
The woman shook her head.
“Do you understand what she said?” I whispered.
“She said that Paolo is wicked, evil. Cattivo means the same thing,” Tara whispered back.
“Maybe we should skip Vitticio,” I mumbled, although not quietly enough.
“Sì,” said Pia’s aunt. “We will eat instead.”
10
Tara
“No, Zia. We cannot stay. If we don’t go to Vitticio, we’ll visit another winery,” said Pia, hugging her aunt.
I wasn’t sure why we couldn’t stay, but I knew that even if we did, I
wouldn’t be able to eat another meal like I had the night before. I lost count of how many courses we’d gone through as well as how many bottles of wine.
My breath caught when Ben stepped closer, and his hand brushed mine. Earlier, if Pia hadn’t interrupted us, I was sure he was going to kiss me. I was so disappointed when he took a step back. When I felt another brush of his hand, I looked down and then up into his eyes. I knew neither time had been accidental when he moved his hand again, took mine in his, and pulled our clasped hands behind his back. He stroked my thumb with his.
Pia was speaking to her aunt, but I was so focused on Ben, I couldn’t hear anything she was saying.
He squeezed my hand and let go, stepping forward to say goodbye to Zia Renata.
“Are you okay?” Pia asked.
“Yes. Why do you ask?”
“You are so flushed. Do you have a fever?”
“I don’t think so. Perhaps some water would be a good idea.” I walked over to where I’d noticed a pitcher early and poured a glass.
“Everything all right?” Ben asked, standing close enough behind me that I could feel his warmth.
I couldn’t stop myself. I leaned just slightly, so I could feel the muscles of his chest against my back. He moved his hand to my waist.
“That isn’t helping,” I whispered.
He leaned closer, so his mouth was next to my ear. “Are you sure?”
“I’m positive.”
I turned my head just slightly, hoping Pia was still preoccupied with her conversation. She wasn’t. She was looking right at us. Smiling.
“I have some business to take care of before we go to the next winery, and don’t forget we need to go to Sienna to pick up your things from the pensione.”
I’d completely forgotten about that, but Pia was right. It was something I had to do this afternoon.
“I could take Catarina to Sienna.”