Page 42 of Where We Met

Mr. Mancini's thick Italian accent is exactly how I had imagined it to sound.

"Thank you so much for having me," I tell him. "I'm so looking forward to our stay."

"This is my son, Giovanni. Please let either of us know if you require anything to make your stay more comfortable."

His son steps forward and grabs my hand then leans in and kisses both cheeks. I'm not going to lie, his son is fine as hell.

"Ciao, bella," he says to me.

Okay, I know that meanshello, beautiful.If an American said that to me upon meeting for the first time, I'd think he was a creep. But coming out of Giovanni's mouth, it just sounds downright sexy.

I turn to smile over at Luke, but instead, I notice his brows drawn together in an angry frown. I'm not sure what that's all about, but I turn back to Giovanni.

"Ciao. Thank you for having me."

"We take your bags," Mr. Mancini says as he and Giovanni grab our luggage from us. "Come, we show you your rooms."

The front door of the villa is made entirely of dark wood while the front porch is covered in pots filled with colorful flowers. When he opens the door, it's like we step into the past. The large room is mostly made of old stone and travertine tiles. The exposed wood columns on the ceiling are still in good condition but obviously date back to the origins of the villa.

There is a large brick fireplace in the back of the large room with a crackling fire giving off a warm and cozy ambiance. Chandeliers hang from the huge cathedral ceilings. The furniture looks relatively new but still in keeping with the era of the villa. It's all wood-framed, with cloths of different colors and textures covering the surfaces.

“Wow! Signor Mancini, this place is just incredible. Bellissimo,” I say, attempting some of the Italian words I memorized.

“Ah. Grazie, signorina. Just this way,” he says as him and Giovanni lead us up the tiled stairs.

I take in the pictures that cover the walls. Most are in black and white, clearly dating far back. Tons of them look like they were taken right here on the farm, picking grapes and smiling bright into the camera.

We get to the third floor, and they stop. There's a door to the left and one to the right.

"Signorina, you will be here. Signor just across the hall. We will let you two get settled for a bit, then we can take a tour of the grounds," Giovanni says as he and his father turn to head back down the stairs.

"Luke and Savannah will do," Luke says. "No need for all this formality."

Giovanni smiles. "Luke and Savannah. Please call us Giovanni and Giorgio."

"Why don't you go ahead and freshen up. I'll meet you by the fireplace in an hour?" Luke says to me once they're gone. "I'm going to take a quick shower."

I nod my head, agreeing that a shower sounds amazing right now. "Me too. I'll see you down there."

The room is huge. The same tiled floor remains throughout, while the wallpaper is a mixture of cream and tan colors. The dark wood beams are exposed in here as well. The king-sized bed looks plush and comfortable with a white down comforter. I walk over to the old wooden windows and push them open, immediately gasping at the view.

The Tuscan hills go on for miles, and they're right outside my window. Montepulciano is in view from here, and I make a note to ask Luke if we can explore. I walk over to a near dark curtain and pull it back, revealing a door leading out to a terrace. Baskets of flowers hang off the railing, with a small wrought-iron table and two chairs sit there waiting for me to have coffee while enjoying the view.

Magic. That's what it feels like.

I don't want to waste any time. I practically run to my suitcase and pull everything out. I'm not going to get my hair wet in the shower—something only woman with long, thick hair could possibly understand. Drying and styling my hair alone is a forty-minute process. I don't have time for that shit right now. I have a freakin' Tuscan farm to tour.

Chapter Fifteen

Luke

Onmywaydownthe stairs, I check myself in the old mirror hanging on the wall, blowing out a breath as I try to get ahold of myself. I keep reminding myself that there’s no need to be nervous, this is just another business trip. I'm going to tour the farm with my future client and my student.

My white button-down shirt and khaki pants blend in with the feel of the vineyard. I’m wearing my expensive brown leather watch, giving the look a bit more sophistication. The cologne that I sprayed was purely habit, it has nothing to do with the woman I'm here with.

Keep telling yourself that, you idiot.

Ugh, I really hate my inner critic sometimes. Shut the fuck up.

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