Page 29 of Perfect Match
How could this surprise adventure get much better? I wonder, and in no time at all, we’re zipping through the Tuscan countryside, the wind whistling around us.
I tip my head back on the headrest, close my eyes, and enjoy the ride.
Chapter thirteen
Gio
“Where are you?” Ant demands over the car speaker. It’s nine o’clock and therefore not surprising that my brother has called to question why I’m not in the office. He could have asked my assistant, but as I’m always there, it’s never been necessary to do so in the past.
We’ve turned off thestrada stataleand are starting to meander our way through thestrada provincial. These local roads are narrow and sometimes windy, and I’d forgotten how much fun it is driving along them in a powerful sports car.
“Ciao, Antonio. I’m on my way to the winery.” I look across at Tori in the seat beside me, the wind catching strands of dark hair that have been tugged from her ponytail and whipping them around her face in a wild halo. A smile brighter than the sun that beats down on us stretches her sweet lips wide, and the vision pulls my attention from the road for longer than it should.
“Who gave you the day off?” Ant’s voice booms above the roar of the engine as I accelerate out of a corner onto an isolated straight that cuts between two fields of sunflowers.
“My boss—me.”
Beside me, Tori’s soft involuntary gasp of the word “beautiful” as we pass through the sea of yellow confirms that my decision to escape the city was right.
Antonio is still talking. “Nice. That means there are benefits to being the boss other than having to take the blame for other people’s messes,” he complains, and not for the first time.
Poor Ant. Being CEO of Barbieri Foods is proving to be a challenge, given the state of the subsidiary when my great-uncle handed the reins over to him with little more than a one-week transition period. But already, the results for his first month in charge are looking better. I’ve absolute faith that once the audit has uncovered more poor accounting practices, my brother will turn the business around completely within the year. Us Barbieri men enjoy a challenge and are fiercely competitive.
“I can recommend taking a break. It feels good, bro,” I admit, and this time when I glance at Tori, I give her a wink. She rolls her eyes, which makes me laugh.
“And who are you with?” Ant persists. Of course he’d know I’m unlikely to skip work and take off alone; especially when he saw me with Tori last night.
“A friend,” I admit, turning again to catch Tori’s eye. Her brow is lifted, but the megawatt smile is still in place.
“Would it be the gorgeous brunette you were with last night?”
My laugh is snatched away with the wind whizzing past. “Her name is Tori, and just so you know, I’m in the car and this call is on speaker, so be careful what you say.” There’s a warning in my tone that I’m sure will pique Ant’s curiosity.
“Hi, Tori. I’m sorry we didn’t get to introductions last night. My brother can be rude like that,” Ant teases.
“Hi, Antonio. It was a shame. But Gio and I were in a bit of a rush.”
He chuckles. “I could see that there was something important that you needed to get to.” Innuendo drips from his words.
“I had my hands full,” Tori adds, and I’m not sure who is laughing harder, Ant or me. This girl is something else with her wicked sense of humor.
“I like her, G,” Ant says when he can speak again.
“Okay, so this has been fun, but again, Tori and I are busy.”
“In the car … while you’re driving. That can’t be safe,” he teases, and I need to shut this conversation down now.
“I’m ignoring that, and I’ll see you early tomorrow morning for our meeting.” I disconnect the call while his laughter still rings through the speaker and before he can make any further comment.
This time, I keep my eyes focused on the road ahead, not daring to look sideways because when my brother said he liked her, I wanted to addso do I. But I can’t because this isn’t what we’re doing here.
***
“All of this is part of your family winery?” Tori asks from where she’s standing on the terrace of my family’s seventeenth-century villa, overlooking the neat rows of vines that roll over the hills below.
“Yes, and fourteen other vineyards, but they’re not all in this region. This villa and vineyard is the ancestral home of the Barbieri family, and where it all began. My cousin now runs this property, but he’s away with his family at the moment.”
She looks so beautiful standing there. Her dark-brown hair flowing freely down her back, and her loose blue paisley top translucent with the sun behind her, so every delicious curve ofher body is visible. I stroll over to stand beside her and shove my hands deep into my pockets. As much as I want to wrap my arms around her, kiss her senseless, and do so much more, I don’t. That’s what you’d do in a real relationship, not one that will end in a couple of days. The sexual chemistry between us is spectacular, but it needs to stay in the bedroom, not seep out into little gestures of affection that will be difficult to come back from when we inevitably have to say goodbye.
