Page 98 of Sinful Temptations

They made a handsome couple. An Italian version of Ken and Barbie. She was the right height for him. The right age for him. She was even from the right country for him.

God damn, hit the buzzer, we’ve found his perfect match.

Mario clapped his hands to get everyone’s attention and the sharp sound bounced off the stone walls and shot straight into my head. My hearing was in fucking overdrive.

“Signore e signori. It is time for you all to come down to see our beautiful wine cellar. But first, we fill your glasses.” Mario started with me, offering a fresh wine glass. “For you,mia bella,Daisy, which wine would you like?”

“Oh, goodie.” My lips felt really weird and unsure if any words had actually escaped them, I pointed at the sticky wine. Mario winked at me and topped up my glass, doubling the size of the sample shots he’d been pouring me.

Clutching the stem, I sipped the sweet perfection with one eye on Mario as he worked his way along the counter, pouring a fresh glass of wine for everyone, and my other eye on Roman and the first woman to match his perfection.

Let me introduce Mr. and Mrs. Italy.

They burst out laughing, and for one horrific second, I thought I’d said it out loud.

But nope. They only had eyes for each other. And smiles. And they touched each other non-stop . . . her hand on his forearm, bicep, shoulder. She must be an arm woman. His hand was on the small of her back. But that was where itremained. His hands didn’t wander like hers did. She giggled at everything he said, all cute and perfect.

I know he’s funny, but really, she’s overdoing it a tad.

“Okay, ladies and gentlemen.” Mario clapped his hands again and it was so loud I thought he was right beside me. He wasn’t. “We take you now. Follow me.”

Clutching the stem of my glass, I eased off the counter and forced my legs to move. Roman indicated for me to go in front of him, behind Lydia.

So, wedged between the hottie behind me, and the hottie in front, we followed the rest of the group down the narrow stairs to the wine cellar. We were a boisterous bunch and the tiny passage and stone-lined walls served to amplify our voices to the point where it hurt.

At the bottom, we spread out, forming a semicircle around Mario. Lydia did a swifty and managed to slot in next to Roman when I wasn’t looking. Other than Roman, everyone was holding a wine glass. Collectively, we sipped our drinks as Mario explained their processes to produce their award-winning wine.

Behind Mario were giant wooden barrels that had been built down here centuries ago. The room had that perfect smell of musky wood and ancient stone and I felt more at home here than I did in my dinky London flat.

The wine barrels alone were older than my home country.

Now that was a sobering thought. It was a brutal reminder that one of my greatest passions—my love of history—was going to be dramatically stifled once I left Europe. Stifled . . . it was going to be stomped to death.

As Mario told animated tales of his wine-making family, I studied my group. They were all younger than me—full of life, exploring the world.

Maybe that was what I could do. Take off and just driftto wherever the breeze took me. I had enough money saved and I was naturally frugal. Nothing was tying me down. Not one thing. No assets. No family. No lover. I could probably travel for a whole decade and not need to earn an income. Toying with that idea, my gaze fell on Roman and Lydia.

The two of them were giving out I-want-to-fuck-you vibes like they were popping candy.

It suddenly hit me—Roman didn’t need me at all.

My legs buckled beneath me and I tipped sideways. “Oh shit!”

Roman swooped in and just before my wine and I went sprawling, he somehow managed to catch me.

“Whoopsie.” Embarrassment blazed up my neck like an inferno. I had to get out of there. “I’m just gonna . . .” I huffed out a breath. “Fresh air.” My damn sentences were playing hide and seek.

Roman wrapped his arm around my back, tugging me to his side. “Carry on, Mario. I’ll take Daisy outside for some fresh air.”

A hiccup burst from my throat, and it was so loud it was like I’d swallowed a megaphone. Some of my group giggled, and I was torn between moaning at my clumsiness and bursting out laughing. I think I did a combination of both.

With Roman squishing me against him, guiding me, we made it up the stairs and out the front door. He led me toward a patch of lush grass and eased me down. My mind flashed to that moment in Amsterdam where he’d flopped on top of me as we’d fallen off the bench seat. That already seemed like years ago.

I sat with my legs sprawled out in front of me like a rag doll, and my hands out to my sides holding me up. My vantage point allowed me to peer right through the middle of two rows of overflowing grapevines.

Roman knelt at my side, resting his hand on my knee. “I’ll be back in a sec, okay?”

I responded with a hiccup and a giggle, then watched his sexy toned butt all the way until he disappeared inside the cellar door.

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