agreed. “Absolutely. Ideally, we want events or attractions that highlight our traditions and Old World charm. That’s what the tourists want. Maybe there’s something we can do around the Madonna and Child painting in the chapel. Something historical.”
“I read the other day that Santo Majorca is building a spa around its underground springs. Too bad we can’t unearth a spring here.”
“Wouldn’t that be nice?”
“Ow!” Louisa jumped as pain shot up from her shin. Damn it, but Dani wore pointy shoes. That kick would leave a bruise.
The two men turned to look at her. “Everything all right?” Nico asked.
“Fine,” she said, rubbing her leg. Beneath her index finger she could feel a small divot. There was definitely going to be a bruise.
Across the table, her friend didn’t even have the decency to look apologetic. She was too busy gesturing with her eyebrows for Louisa to say something. Louisa replied with a shake of her head.
Why not? Dani mouthed.
Because of a zillion reasons. The concept was still too vague and unformed, for one. She wasn’t ready for people to start poking holes in her idea. Or take it over, she thought, sliding a look in Nico’s direction. She wasn’t sure she was ready period.
“Did I miss something?” Nico asked.
Of course he would say something. Those sharp brown eyes didn’t miss a thing, not that either she or Dani were being very subtle.
“Louisa’s been working on a terrific idea,” Dani said.
“Really?” He turned to face her. “What is it? If it’s something that will help, by all means tell us.”
“It’s still at the very beginning stages. I haven’t worked out all the details yet.”
“But the general idea is brilliant. She wants to turn the palazzo into a hotel.”
Some of Nico’s enthusiasm faded in favor of concern. “What kind of hotel? You’re not planning to alter the property, are you?”
“Nothing drastic, I assure you,” she said as she shot a narrow-eyed look in Dani’s direction. Why couldn’t she have found an unenthusiastic best friend? “I was thinking of something more like a high-end boutique hotel.”
“Isn’t that a great idea?” Dani piped in, clearly unfazed by Louisa’s glare. “People love to stay in historic buildings. Remember that couple last month who told us they were staying at Palazzo St. Rosa? They couldn’t stop raving about the place.”
“She’s right, they couldn’t,” Rafe said. “No matter how hard I tried to make them.”
“They showed us the photos, and the place can’t hold a candle to Louisa’s.”
“That’s because Palazzo di Comparino is special.” Intended as both a compliment and a warning, Nico’s comment made Louisa bristle. It’d been nine months since she’d moved in and he still acted as though the palazzo was his responsibility. And Dani wondered why she didn’t want to talk about her plans.
“Special, yes,” she replied, “but it’s also very large and expensive for one person to keep up.” Especially if said person had no other source of income. “Opening it to the public is one way to cover some of the expenses.” As well as help her stay independent. Being in charge, having total control of her life again, seemed almost too good to be true.
Maybe she could finally put the past behind her.
No sooner did the thought form than her old friend insecurity came rushing in to take its place. “Of course, the building needs a lot more upgrading before I can do much of anything, and I still have to secure financing. Who knows how long it’ll take before anything happens.”
“Well, I agree with Dani—I like the idea. A high-end hotel is exactly what Monte Calanetti needs,” Rafe said as he warmed both her and Dani’s coffee. “If you need anything, let us know. Nico and I will be glad to help. Isn’t that right, Nico?”
“Absolutely.” The vineyard owner slid his empty cup across the table for a refill, which Rafe immediately provided, remembering Nico preferred espresso. There was a roguish gleam in his eyes as he smiled. “As the two of us have proven, we make a good team, do we not?”
A good team. In a flash, Louisa’s mind traveled back in time...
The Royal Wedding
“Ask and you shall receive. Your cake, signorina.” Nico’s exaggerated bow as he handed her a slice of cake made Louisa laugh. The wedding had brought out the lightheartedness in everyone, even her. It felt good, laughing. She’d faked happiness for so long that she was afraid she’d forgotten how to truly enjoy herself.
“Grazie,” she replied with her best regal nod before noticing he’d returned with only one plate. “No slice for you? Don’t tell me there isn’t enough.” She saw the cake; it was large enough to feed all of Italy.
“Ah, but it’s more fun to share, don’t you think?” From his breast pocket, he produced two forks. “To commemorate our successful partnership. We make a good team, do we not?”
“Surprisingly, yes.” If anyone had told her that one day she and the vineyard owner would be civil to one another, let alone work together, she would have told them they were crazy. But the two of them had organized the massive village cleanup in preparation for today’s wedding. As a result, the palazzo and the plaza had never looked lovelier—a pretty big achievement considering the village had started out picture-perfect.
And now, here they were enjoying each other’s company at the wedding reception, as well. Things between them had definitely thawed since Louisa’s first day in town when he’d demanded to see her ownership papers. Or maybe she was the one who was starting to thaw?
It certainly felt as though something inside her was shifting.
She focused her attention to the cake Nico was sliding toward her.
“If we’re toasting, shouldn’t we be raising a glass?” she asked, taking one of the forks.
“We’ve been raising our glasses all day. I thought we could use a change of pace.” He moved his chair so that they were sitting side by side, close enough that his elbow nudged hers. Cutting off a bite of cake, he raised it in the air like a glass. “To teamwork.”
“To teamwork.”
Louisa moved to cut her own piece of cake, intending to salute him back, only to have him press the cake to her lips before she could. “The lady should always have the first bite,” he said, his low voice.
A warm tightness moved through her as the fork slid between her teeth. Chocolate and raspberry melted on her tongue.
“Good?” he asked.
“Amazing.” She ran a tongue over her lower lip, chasing the hint of frosting that had been left behind. “Try some.”
With what could only be called a wicked smile, he did, and when the
