Page 37 of Saved by the CEO

Still, the last time a man had made her feel special, she’d wound up making the biggest mistake of her life, and while she might be older and wiser, she was also a woman with desires that had been neglected for a long time. The idea of giving herself over to Nico’s care left a warm fluttery sensation in the pit of her stomach—a dangerous feeling, to say the least. Thank goodness she managed to keep her head.

Thank goodness, too, that Nico understood. In fact, seeing his relaxed expression, she’d say he’d managed to brush the moment aside without problem.

Louisa was glad for that. Truly.

Nico’s “lab” was located at the rear of the building a stone’s throw from where the grapes were stored after being picked. Now that harvesting had begun, the rolling door that led to the loading dock was left permanently open so that the forklifts could transport the containers of grapes from the field trucks to the washing area. Louisa breathed deep, taking in as much of the sweet aroma as she could.

“Do you mind if I close the door?” Nico hollered. “It’ll be easier to hear each other.”

She shook her head. Out here the sound was much louder than by her office, where the machines were still dormant.

There was a click and the decibel level was suddenly reduced by half. “Much better,” Nico said.

Better was relative. In addition to being small, the room was stuffed with equipment making the close space tighter still. Standing near the door, Louisa found herself less than a yard away from Nico’s desk, and even closer to Nico himself. He smelled like grapes. To her chagrin, the aroma made her stomach flip-flop again.

Trying to look casual, she leaned against the door, arms folded across her midsection. “What is it you needed to talk about?” she asked him.

“Not talk. Taste.”

He pointed to the equipment on his worktable. “I need a second opinion regarding this year’s blend.”

“This year’s blend?” She knew that super Tuscans were wines made by combining different varieties of grape, but she assumed that once the formula was created, the blend stayed the same.

“Every harvest is different,” Nico replied. “Sometimes only subtly, but enough that the formula should be tweaked. Mario and I have been playing with percentages all day, but we’re not quite sure we’ve achieved the right balance.”

“I see.” Speaking of the university student, she didn’t see him.

Nico must have seen her looking around because he said, “Mario has gone home. He was a little too enthusiastic a taster.”

“You mean he got a little tipsy.”

“Don’t be silly. He needed a break, is all.” He’d gotten tipsy. “Anyway, I think I’m close, but I could use a fresh palate.”

“Wouldn’t you be better off asking someone else? I’m not much of a wine connoisseur.” If he wanted to know about finish and undertones, she couldn’t help him.

“You don’t have to be,” he told her. “You just have to know what you like.”

Stepping to the worktable, he retrieved two beakers containing purple liquid and a pair of wineglasses. “Fancy bottle,” Louisa joked.

“Good things come in odd glass containers,” he joked back. He poured the contents from each into its own glass and set them on the edge of his desk. “Tell me which one of these wines you like better.”

“That’s it?”

“That’s it.”

Simple enough. Picking up the first glass, she paused. “Am I supposed to smell it before I drink?”

“Only if you want to.”

Louisa didn’t. Things like that were better left to someone like Nico who actually understood what they were looking for. “And do I spit or swallow?” She vaguely remembered there was supposed to be some kind of protocol.

“Drink like you would a regular glass of wine. If you normally spit...”

She returned his smirk. “Fine. I get the point.”

The contents of the first glass tasted amazing. Sweet but not overly so with just enough tang to make it stay on your tongue. Delicious. “Mmm,” she said, licking her lips.

She was about to declare the choice easy until she tasted the second glass and found it equally delicious. “You’re kidding,” she said, setting the glass down. “There’s supposed to be a difference?”

“Don’t focus on finding the difference. Tell me which one you like better.”

She tasted each one again, this time with her eyes closed in order to really focus. Took a couple of sips, but in the end, the first glass won out. “This one,” she said, finishing the glass with a satisfied sigh. “Definitely this one.”

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