Harlequin Romance April 2015 Box Set (37 page)

“You feeling all right?”

“Of course.” Frown lines creased Papa’s tanned face. “Am I that much of a workaholic that you think because I am out of the office something must be wrong?”

Since when did his father become so defensive?

Stefano shrugged, trying to take a neutral stance. “Is there anything around here that needs my immediate attention?”

His father rubbed
his jaw. Instead of the gray stubble that normally dotted it, it was clean shaven. “Not that I can think of. I’ve calculated the number of new barrels we’ll need for the fall harvest, and I’ve ordered the supplies. They should be here in a few weeks.”

“What about the email? Is it backed up? It always seems they come in faster than I can respond to them.”

“No, I just finished responding
to the last email. Things are pretty quiet right now. I was thinking that perhaps we should consider increasing the number of wine-tasting events we host. It’d be good for the business, and I think it’d be well received.”

Stefano nodded. “You know we have one coming up before the wedding.”

“I do. I just think that we can do more.”

It’d been one of those things that he’d been meaning
to get to, but there was always something else that needed his attention first. But it seemed his father was on top of everything. Good for him. Right now, Stefano was actually kind of enjoying this downtime.

“You headed out to the fields?” Stefano asked, feeling obligated to accompany him. “I can give you a hand.”

Papa’s bushy brows rose. “Um...no, that isn’t necessary. I’m going to
have some
caffè
first. Why don’t you take the day off?”

That was the problem; he didn’t want to slow down because then his thoughts would take over and that would do nothing but get him in trouble. He’d start remembering his past mistakes. Or worse yet, he’d start thinking about Jules in all the wrong ways. The last thing he needed to do was to start caring about her.

His father clapped
him on the shoulder. “It’s a beautiful day. Don’t spend all of it in here.”

After his father walked away, Stefano sat down at the desk. Out of the corner of his eye, he spied the coffeemaker. It was still on, and the pot was full.
What in the world?
Why was his father heading to the house for
caffè
when there was plenty here?

Stefano shook his head and gave up trying to figure out his
father. He turned on the computer and found the email was in fact under control. The office was in decent shape. And there was absolutely no business requiring his attention.
Good.
Now he had time to help Jules with the wedding. His fingers flew over the keypad.

A little later, he headed back to the house, excited to tell Jules what he’d ordered. His steps grew faster the more he thought
of her sitting on the floor in those short shorts with her bare legs showing and that contagious smile on her face. He didn’t know what it was about her that drew him in. She was unlike any other woman he’d ever known.

Maybe his problem was he spent too much time alone at this vineyard. But that was his punishment for what had happened to Gianna. He didn’t let himself go out and have a good
time. He didn’t let himself think about the future because she didn’t have one.

However, now, for the first time since his wife’s tragic death, he wanted to live again. He wanted to feel alive. And that’s how Jules made him feel—heart-poundingly, soul-stirringly alive.

It was a strange sensation after living so long in self-imposed exile. He’d cut himself off from most of the outside
world. He’d unknowingly followed in his father’s footsteps, even though he’d sworn that he would be different. Yet another thing he’d failed at, but he wouldn’t fail Jules. He’d do his best to help her make this wedding special.

As he drew close to the house, he saw someone exit the kitchen door. It was Maria, and she was laughing. In the past eleven or so years that she’d been tending to
the house, he didn’t recall ever hearing her laugh like that—unrestricted and joyous. What could have put her in such a good mood—

His father.

Papa’s deep chuckle drifted through the air. Stefano came to a halt. What in the world was going on?

Stefano watched in amazement as the two, not noticing him, started off toward the vines as though they were going for a stroll—together.
If he hadn’t seen it with his own eyes, he never would have believed his father was interested in Maria. How long had this been going on? And how had he missed it until now?

Did this explain the recent change in his father? The easiness Papa had taken on? The not working until all hours of the night? The added pep in his step?

Stefano raked his fingers through his hair as he tried to
come to terms with the fact his father was back among the living. There was a mixed ball of emotions churning in his gut. He truly wanted to be happy for his father, but it nagged at him that he and his brother had suffered through their childhoods with an emotionally detached father. If only his father had made this change long ago, he could have saved everyone so much misery.

When his father
and Maria were far enough off, Stefano made the rest of his way to the house. It seemed as though everyone was getting on with their lives—except him. But how did he do that? How did he forget what he’d done?

He didn’t have any answers, just more questions. The one thing he could do was get into the spirit of his brother’s wedding. Maybe Dante was right to roll the dice and see what life
handed him.

The thought of Jules making all those silly paper flowers alone tugged at his conscious. He was the best man. And since there was no other bridal party, it fell to him to help her. Whether he was any good at it or not, he could try his best.

Spending some time with Jules was not silly—not at all. Besides, it would keep his mind off the fact that his father was changing—right
before his very eyes. Suddenly Stefano felt as though he was standing still in life and soon he’d be left behind.

CHAPTER TEN

J
ULES
RAN
THE
brush through her damp hair, pulling the dark strands back in a single ponytail. The cool shower felt rejuvenating. She’d just sat down on the bedroom floor to make some more flowers when there was a knock at the door.

Her chest tightened. She wasn’t expecting anyone to come looking for her. She thought everyone was out and about doing their own thing.

She scrambled to her feet. The door was locked, so it wasn’t like anyone would just come walking in on her.

“Jules, are you in there?” Stefano’s deep tones vibrated through the door.

“Did you need something?”

“I have news. You know, it’s easier to talk when there isn’t a piece of wood standing between us.”

Jules pressed her hands to her cheeks. She hadn’t had a chance to
do her makeup yet. She couldn’t have him seeing her like this—with her scars exposed. Her heart beat rapidly. She didn’t think she could stand to have him turn away in repulsion.

She stepped closer to the door. “Could we talk at lunch?”

There was a slight pause. “Is everything okay?”

What could be so important? She didn’t have a clue. She had to admit that she was quite curious
to know what was so urgent.

“Jules?” The doorknob jiggled. “Jules, what’s going on? Why is your door locked?”

She sighed. He wasn’t going to just give up and go away. She’d already witnessed his stubborn streak at the florist. This time he might just break down the door to see for himself that she was okay.

This might be just what she needed to end the silly crush she had on him.
Once he saw the scars on her face, he’d turn tail and run.

“Jules, come on. You’re starting to worry me.”

She sucked in a steadying breath, leveled her shoulders and released the lock on the door. With a twist of the knob, she pulled it open. Stefano stood there, all six-plus feet of him, with his forehead wrinkled with worry lines. He stepped into the room, and she backed up so he could
enter the whole way.

“See, nothing to worry about.” She felt a little off center that he was actually worried about her. Aside from Lizzie, no one worried about her.

His gaze slid over her fuzzy black robe with purple polka dots. She suddenly wished it was a little longer. As it was, it barely reached midthigh, and the only thing beneath it was a lacy black bra and matching undies. Though
she was modestly covered, she still felt fully exposed. She lowered her head, staring at her purple toenails.

“You aren’t dressed yet?”

She shrugged. “I’ve been busy.”

“I noticed. That’s what I wanted to talk to you about—”

“If this is about hiring help, I told you to forget it.”

“Actually, what I wanted to say is I know in the beginning I wasn’t a fan of helping with
this wedding, but I want to help now. I want to do whatever it is that you need. Just give me a task, and I’ll get it done. Or at least I’ll try my best.”

Jules crossed her arms. “Do you mind if I ask what brought about this change of heart?”

He paused and stared at her. Was it her scars? Did he at last see her defects? That crescent moon scar that wrapped around the side of her left
eye and the long scar that trailed down her jaw. They were so ugly.

She couldn’t stand him staring any longer. She felt as though she were under a spotlight. Pretending to be intent on picking up some of her flower-making supplies from the floor, she kept her back to him.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to stare.”

“I should have put on my makeup, but I didn’t get to it yet.”

“Don’t.”
When she turned a questioning look his way, he added, “Don’t put the makeup on.”

She straightened and turned to him. “You’ve got to be kidding.”

“No, I think you look beautiful without all of that stuff.”

He couldn’t be serious. There was no way someone could find her scarred face beautiful. She shook her head. “Don’t lie.”

“I’m not.” He stepped closer to her. When she wouldn’t
meet his gaze, his thumb moved beneath her chin and raised her face until she was looking directly at him. “You are beautiful.”

“But...but what about my scars?”

“The one by your eye is hardly noticeable. It’s your green eyes that draw my attention. The gold flecks in them catch the light just right. And your pert nose is just perfect. And then there’s your lips—they are quite fascinating.
They look as though they are just ripe for kissing.”

The breath hitched in her throat. He was seducing her with his words. No one had ever done that before, and all she wanted him to do now was put some action behind his compliments.

Then in the next breath his hand pulled away from her chin, and he stepped back. “If that’s the only reason you wear all of that makeup, then don’t. You
are much more beautiful without it. Trust me. I wouldn’t lie to you.”

Maybe he wouldn’t. He’d just lead her on and then leave her wanting a kiss that wasn’t coming. How in the world was she ever going to concentrate on anything but him?

“I’ll consider it.” She’d been wearing makeup since she was a teen, hiding her scars.

“Are you still making flowers?” He glanced around at the array
of papers on the floor.

“The shower gave me renewed energy, and I thought I might make some more before lunch.”

“I see your helper faded away.”

“Apricot wore herself out chasing the paper and then sliding across the floor. When she got bored of that I rolled a piece into a ball. She batted it everywhere until at last it went under the bed. Instead of going after it, she clawed her
way up the bedspread and laid down.”

There in the middle of her bed, in a pink fuzzy blanket Jules had bundled up into a circle with a divot in the middle, was Apricot—belly up and sound asleep. The kitten was so sweet. She didn’t know how she’d ever leave her behind.

“Seems as if she couldn’t be happier.” He turned back to Jules. “You’re really good with her. Someday you’ll make a great
mother.”

“It’s not going to happen.”

She waited, but he didn’t say anything else on the matter.

Deep inside she wanted to believe him. She wanted to believe that she could someday be a mom. Lizzie wasn’t the only one who’d dreamed of having her own family. But knowing she wasn’t cut out to raise children, Jules had turned her focus to social work. She thought she could care for
the kids from a distance. Until she’d found out that she was unable to maintain a professional distance. Frustration knotted her stomach.

Stefano made himself comfortable on the floor and started to gather a stack of papers. “So how do you do this?”

“You really want to make a flower?” She surely hadn’t heard him correctly. There was nothing about this jean-clad, muscle-bound businessman
that said he had a crafty bone in his body.

“Of course I do. I told you that I would do everything I could to help with this wedding. Speaking of which, I ordered those wedding favors.”

“You did?”

He nodded. “You wouldn’t believe all of the party favors they offer. I hope you don’t mind, but I ordered a few other things. Of course, you get final approval.”

Impressed with his
new attitude toward the wedding, she sat down next to him. “Thank you. I can’t wait to see them.”

She went on to instruct him about making flowers by taking eight sheets of tissue paper and aligning them with the round paper cutter. For a while she gave him her undivided attention, but he was a quick learner. His flower wasn’t perfect, but it impressed her—he impressed her. It wasn’t just
his flair for crafts, but his ability to put aside his misgivings about the wedding for his brother’s happiness.

“Not exactly like your flowers,” he said, surveying his rather limp effort.

“But not bad for your first try.” She gave him some pointers, and he tried again.

“That’s better.”

“Yes, it is.”

He turned to her. “Now that I have this flower stuff figured out, how
about you tell me more about your decision not to have a family? I see the motherly instincts come out in you every time you gather that little bundle of fur in your hands.”

But Apricot was so easy. She wasn’t stressful. Jules didn’t have to worry about messing her up for the rest of her life.

Jules punched another set of papers. “You don’t want to hear this.”

“Yes, I do. If you’ll
tell me.” He sat there holding a stack of deep purple papers in his hand, staring at her with such compassion in his eyes.

What did it matter now if she told him the bitter truth? He knew the answers already; he just hadn’t put it all together. But delving into those deep, dark memories made her heart pinch. It was a subject that she didn’t share with anyone. She’d learned how to push those
painful memories to the far recesses of her mind.

So why did she feel the temptation to open up to Stefano? Why did she want him to understand her?

“It’s okay.” His voice was gentle and filled with understanding. “If it’s too painful, you don’t have to say anything. I won’t mention it again.”

He was letting her off the hook just like that, with no probing questions about her scars—no
judgments. Stefano was a complex man. She had the feeling he had his own ghosts hanging in the closet.

Maybe he would understand her story.

Her mouth grew dry as she struggled to swallow. “My mother, she...she tried her best. But she was a very unhappy soul. When I was little, my father left us. She did her best to find work, but without much education, her choices were limited and minimum
wage doesn’t pay for much. It was a tough life, and she took her frustrations out on me.”

The memories of her childhood came to her in snippets. Flashes of her mother crying. The sense of insecurity. Her stomach growling when she went to bed. Over the years, Jules had tried to forget the details, but some refused to fade away.

Still she’d promised herself that she wouldn’t end up like
her mother. She wouldn’t trust her future to a man, only to have him pull the rug out from under her. She wouldn’t take her anger and frustration out on her child. And she wouldn’t just quit on life.

“I’d been removed from my mother’s care a few times. But I was always returned. Each time she promised that she’d get it right. But the last time...” Her voice drifted away as those dark memories
resurfaced. “The last time she did this to me.” Jules pointed to her scars.

She couldn’t say any more. She didn’t want to dissolve into a tearful mess. Perhaps she’d kept the memories locked up for too long. Stefano’s presence had her letting down her defenses, leaving her vulnerable to the pain she’d neatly tucked away in the back of her heart.

She swallowed down the lump of emotions.
“We should get these flowers done.”

Before she could reach for the papers, Stefano moved to her side. His hands reached out, cupping her shoulders. “I’m so sorry that happened to you. No child should ever go through what you did.”

She glanced away, not wanting to see the sympathy in his eyes. “It was a long time ago.”

“But it still hurts. I know.”

Their gazes collided, sending
her heart beating out of control. “You truly get it, don’t you?”

He nodded. “We didn’t have the same sort of childhood, but I know what it’s like to lose a parent and hope they’ll come back. And I know what it’s like to be forgotten by a parent.”

In that moment, she knew that she’d found someone else besides Lizzie who understood her and didn’t judge her by her past. The breath hitched
in her throat as her focus slipped to his mouth—his very kissable mouth. She wondered what it’d be like to be held in his strong arms and to have his lips press to hers. Would his kiss be swift and passionate? Or would it be slow and tantalizing?

She didn’t have to wonder any longer as he pulled her close. Her hands grabbed hold of his broad shoulders to steady herself. When his head dipped
toward her, her eyelids fluttered closed.

Her heart beat so loudly that it was all she could hear. Could Stefano hear it, too? Did he know how much she wanted him?

And then he was there, pressing his lips to hers. The hunger and need in his kiss answered her questions. He wanted her as much as she wanted him.

He tasted of coffee. Caffeine might provide a jolt of energy, but it didn’t
compare with the rush of adrenaline from Stefano’s kiss. A moan swelled in her throat. His touch was so much better than anything she’d conjured up in her imagination.

But this wasn’t right. Getting involved with Stefano would only complicate things. She had to stop before it went any further.

With every bit of willpower she could muster, she pressed her palms to his solid chest. The
thump-thump
of his heart vibrated through her fingers. Ignoring the delicious sensations that zinged up her arms, she pushed him away.

She looked at him, finding bewilderment in his eyes. Perhaps he, too, was caught off guard by the intensity of that amazing kiss.

“I...I should be going.” Stefano jumped to his feet.

He beat a path through the colorful paper to the door without even
a glance back. Why was he acting as though he couldn’t get away from her fast enough? Was she the only one to feel anything? No, she was certain that he’d felt it, too. Then she realized that it must have unnerved him, as well.

Just then Apricot stood up, stretched and gave off a little baby
murr
. She strolled across the bed to where Jules was leaning against it and rubbed her head against
Jules’s hair, which was drying into an unruly mess of spiral curls.

Maybe opening up to him hadn’t been the wisest move. She’d have to be careful going forward and keep a safe distance. Because his kiss was much too tempting, and she might just forget that she wasn’t interested in starting up anything with him.