The Italian's Unexpected Heir Page 13

  “I try. It’s not always easy.”

  “But your true talent is here.” He pointed to her sketch pad. “You put so much of yourself into those dresses. It must have been horrible to part with them.”

  “It was, but I’d do it again to help someone I love. I can create a new dress, but it’s people who are irreplaceable.” And if her mother was here right now, she’d be able to show her that you don’t have to settle. Sylvie was making a name for herself in the wedding world.

  “I’m sorry,” he said. “I didn’t mean to upset you.”

  “It’s not your fault.” She blinked. “I’m fine. I was just thinking about my mother. I feel like I let her down.”

  “I’m sure you didn’t. You have a heart of gold and I’d be willing to bet this entire estate that you did everything you could for her and she knew it, too.”

  Sylvie glanced down and picked a piece of lint from her jeans. “I just feel bad that when she was so sick, I couldn’t be with her all of the time. I had to continue working in order to pay the bills and keep a roof over our heads.”

  “That couldn’t have been easy, feeling like you were being torn in two directions.”

  “I made sure to have the neighbors stop in and check on her. When the time came, I set up a schedule so there’d always be someone with her.”

  Enzo reached out and placed his hand over hers. He gave it a squeeze. “You know we have something in common.”

  She didn’t move her hand, taking comfort in the warmth of his touch. She turned her head, finding he was much closer than she’d thought. “What’s that?”

  “I feel as though I failed my sisters. After our parents died, I was supposed to protect them—make it easier for them. And yet, I did the exact opposite.”

  “Have you talked to them? Told them your secret?”

  He glanced away. “I can’t. They’ll never understand.”

  “Give them a chance. They might surprise you.”

  His gaze met hers. “Why do you care?”

  Her heart beat faster. She wondered if he suspected that she had feelings for him. Heat crept up her neck, warming her cheeks. “I don’t think you’ll ever be able to forgive yourself and make peace with the past without being honest with your sisters.”

  “Maybe. Maybe not. But telling them is too big of a gamble. I couldn’t take it if they never spoke to me again.”

  Sylvie reached out and gave his hand a quick squeeze. “They love you. That won’t change.”

  “But I could have done more...”

  “You did your best. And that’s all anyone can do.”

  When he gazed at her, his eyes were filled with agony. His pain was so palpable that it sliced into her heart. No wonder he’d decided to sell the estate. He was trying to get away from the pain.

  And in that moment all she wanted to do was to comfort him. Without thinking of how her actions could complicate their already messy relationship, she leaned to the side. And there he was. His lips were so close to hers.

  He didn’t move. She didn’t even think he was breathing at this point. The breath hitched in her own throat. She tilted her chin upward and pressed her lips to his.

  There was no room in the moment for things to move slowly because the air between them was charged with emotion—deep, raw emotion. And that came through in their kiss. His lips moved over hers with a need she’d never experienced before. And she was there for him, meeting his kiss with a need of her own. She had missed him. Even though they’d coexisted on the same estate, they’d never been farther apart. Until now.

  She reached a hand out to him, wrapping her fingers around the back of his neck and then letting her fingers comb up through his thick, dark hair. She shouldn’t be doing this. She’d promised herself that whatever they’d shared was over. It was best to keep things simple, but they were not simple right now. Not at all.

  In this moment things were hot and getting hotter. And all thoughts of reason had totally escaped her. She was caught up in comforting Enzo and perhaps herself, too. Because as much as she tried to tell herself that she would be all right if the estate was sold, the thought of losing her home again was dredging up excruciating memories of the past when she didn’t have a home.

  But here in the fading sun with Enzo kissing her, the pain of the past and the worry of the future didn’t matter so much. All that mattered in this moment were he and she.

  As their kiss intensified, she felt as though she were floating above the ground. She leaned back against the blanket, drawing him with her. He followed her until her back was pressed upon the blanket. He leaned over her, giving her his full attention—oh, what attention.

  A whinny followed by the pounding of hooves caused Enzo to pull away with a frustrated groan. He stared over her shoulder, in the direction of Emperor.

  “Is something wrong?” she asked.

  “Doesn’t appear to be. Emperor must be growing bored.” Enzo sat back and held out a hand to help her up. When she was fully upright, he said, “Sylvie, I’ve decided not to sell the estate. I tried to phone the buyer, but I wasn’t able to reach him. I’ll tell him when he arrives tomorrow.”

  Sylvie shook her head. “Don’t do it.”

  “What’s that supposed to mean? Aren’t you the one who’s been waging a campaign to convince me to call off the sale?”

  “Would you have changed you mind about selling the estate if there wasn’t a baby?”

  Enzo averted his gaze and remained silent.

  That was all the answer she needed. As hard as she’d tried to remind him what this estate meant to him—to his family—she’d failed. And now there was only one thing for her to do.

  “You should sell the estate.” Speaking these words was like an out-of-body experience for her. “It’s what you intended to do all along. I don’t want you to keep it and later blame me or the baby because you feel trapped here.”

  Enzo was silent for a moment as though absorbing her words. “And if I do sell the place, where will you go?”

  “I’m moving to Florence. I’m taking that apartment above the florist.”

  “But, Sylvie, you can’t. This is your home.”

  She shook her head. “Not any longer. With today being my last wedding and the buyer showing up tomorrow, I don’t see a reason for me to put off moving to the city and starting my search for a new job.”

  Two deep lines formed between Enzo’s brows. In his eyes, she could see the wheels of his mind spinning. She didn’t know what he was thinking, but whatever it was wouldn’t change her mind about leaving.

  He visibly swallowed. “Don’t go.”

  “What?” Surely, she hadn’t heard him correctly.

  “Don’t leave. Not yet.”

  “You want me to stay here and watch you make the biggest mistake of your life?” She shook her head. “I can’t do that. My leaving now while things are still amicable between us is what’s best for everyone.”

  His darkened gaze narrowed on her. “I’m glad you’ve figured out what’s best for everyone because I sure haven’t.” And with that, Enzo stood and, without another word, he strode over to Emperor. With the pounding of hooves, he rode away.

  Tears stung her eyes. In truth, she couldn’t bear to see the estate sold. For the first time since her mother died, Sylvie truly felt at home. And it was with a very heavy heart that she would leave here.

  But she’d reinvented herself after her mother passed on and she would do it again. Her gaze moved to the sketch pad on the blanket. She would find a job as a seamstress. It was steady, reliable work. She definitely preferred a job in the background instead of dealing with nervous brides and anxious mothers.

  She sighed. It was for the best. Her baby was counting on her to provide a steady, loving home—not one full of drama. Love was fleeting. Hadn’t she been taught that lesson over and o
ver?

  Her mother and father had a fleeting love. Her mother used to say that it burned so bright, so hot, that it’d burned itself out. Theirs had been a love-at-first-sight scenario. They were engaged in a month and married within six months of meeting. Her mother had been pregnant with Sylvie a month later. Everything in their relationship was rush-rush. Looking back now, Sylvie supposed that was just her mother’s nature, always rushing here and there until cancer struck her down and trapped her in bed. Sylvie shoved aside the painful image.

  Her parents’ love had been short, but her mother swore that it was one of those loves that was so all-encompassing that she would never love anyone else the way she’d loved Sylvie’s father. Sylvie never understood what her mother had meant, but she was starting to get an idea because that night she’d spent with Enzo, from dinner at the awards ceremony, to visiting the Eiffel Tower, to strolling through Paris, to winding up in his arms that night, had been like a love affair in fast-forward motion. It all went by so fast and now all she had were the memories.

  No. That wasn’t exactly true. She had their baby.

  And unlike her father, who died in a work-related accident just short of her parents’ first anniversary—Enzo was healthy and would go on to live a long life. She had to believe it.

  She couldn’t help but think of how her mother had gotten sick just as Sylvie had finished school—just when she’d made it through her turbulent teen years. She and her mother had just found solid ground when her mother had received her diagnosis.

  It was around that time when Sylvie had met a guy, not just any guy, but someone she thought she could get serious with, but as soon as her mother was diagnosed, he was gone. It was then that Sylvie had accepted that she could only count on herself. It was a hard-learned lesson and one she shouldn’t forget.

  And that was why she needed to end things here with Enzo. No more kisses. No more physical contact of any sort because where they were concerned one thing just naturally led to another and that wasn’t helping either of them.

  No more excuses. No more delays. It was time she left once and for all.

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  SYLVIE WAS GONE.

  It was for the best.

  No matter how many times Enzo told himself that it didn’t feel like it was for the best. Still, it wasn’t like he couldn’t drive to visit her whenever he wanted. After all, when the estate was sold, he’d be moving, too. But now with news of the baby, he was rethinking his plans to move to France. That was a lot farther from Sylvie and the baby than he wanted to be.

  But the problem was that she’d moved before they’d had time to sort out the future and make arrangements concerning the baby. He’d wanted to stop her from leaving, but what did he have to offer her? His life was in disarray. He didn’t even know where he’d be sleeping next month.

  After weather delays, the buyer, Mr. Renezo, had arrived a day late and had enjoyed everything about the estate—that was before the winds and wildfire took a distinctive turn. The fire was creeping toward the Bartolini estate—Enzo’s home. Firefighting efforts were hampered by wind gusts that jumped fire lines.

  In the wine-tasting room, Enzo had just sat down with Mr. Renezo and their attorneys to sign the sale papers. Enzo hadn’t eaten that day. His stomach was bothering him. He blamed it on his nagging headache. All of Sylvie’s reasons for him not to sell kept nagging at him.

  Though the wildfire troubled Mr. Renezo, he was still willing to buy the estate so long as the fire didn’t touch the property. That was a big if and they both knew it. But since the man had taken time from his busy schedule to fly in, they were ironing out the details.

  The problem was that Mr. Renezo didn’t want to keep the estate as it was. The man planned to destroy many of the buildings Enzo’s father had built, including the little house where Sylvie had stayed. Even the main house wouldn’t be recognizable when this man was done. Any memory of Enzo’s family would be wiped away.

  Part of Enzo realized when the sale was complete that it was Mr. Renezo’s property to do with as he pleased, but the other part of him couldn’t reconcile himself to the fact that his childhood home would no longer exist as he’d always known. When he’d started down this road, he’d never realized just how difficult it was going to become.

  Needing a break from answering Mr. Renezo’s questions, Enzo headed outside the winery. A hint of smoke hung in the air. There was no escaping it.

  Another of his father’s bits of wisdom came to him: Change doesn’t come easily but it’s necessary. Enzo just had to keep moving forward until the deal was complete. Everything would work out then. Wouldn’t it?

  Vito came rushing up to him. His tanned face was marred with deep worry lines. Enzo’s heart sank down to his work boots. Had the fire reached the Bartolini property?

  “How bad is it?” Enzo’s words were rushed.

  “It’s bad. Do you have room for another family?” Vito asked. He’d returned early from his holiday when he heard about the fire.

  Enzo raked his fingers through his hair. With evacuation orders up in the area, he’d been taking in displaced families. After all, he had an unoccupied hotel. He might as well put it to good use. The only problem was that it had filled up quickly.

  “Put them in my room,” he said. “I’ll grab what I need and bunk down here with the rest of the crew.” Vineyard workers who didn’t have a family of their own was camping here, ready to do whatever was necessary.

  Besides, now that Sylvie was gone, he spent as little time in the main house as possible. The estate was so empty, even with all these people staying here. Nothing was the same without Sylvie’s bright smile and bubbly laugh.

  With a resigned sigh Enzo turned toward the door. It was time to go back inside and sign the sales agreement—if the wildfire didn’t incinerate the estate first.

  Mr. Renezo looked up from the papers in front of him when Enzo entered the room. His silver hair was trimmed very short, revealing his lack of hair atop his head. From behind his silver frames his sharp gaze studied Enzo. “Everything all right?”

  Enzo nodded. At least for the moment. “We should get the sales agreement signed.”

  “Just remember I’ve had my attorney write in a clause that if the wildfire destroys the property that this agreement is null and void, so if your rushing to sign is some sort of idea that you’ll sign it and be off the hook if the worst happens, think again.”

  “The idea never crossed my mind. Let’s do this.” Enzo needed to get this over with, the sooner the better. Because the longer they took, the more the doubts about his actions circled overhead, weighing on him.

  As he lifted the pen, he saw Sylvie’s image in his mind. She was frowning at him and shaking her head in disapproval. But she didn’t understand. No one understood that this place represented his failures—the secret his parents kept—the secret he’d hid.

  It was best to forget the past and just get on with the future. A fresh start that included a baby. Sylvie and his baby. He would do better by their child. There would be no secrets—secrets that shook the foundation of their family.

  As they were about to sign the sales agreement, Vito rushed into the room. He didn’t apologize for his presence. And by the distinct paleness of his face, it was clear that things had gotten worse.

  He moved to Enzo’s side. Vito leaned over and whispered, “We have to go. The fire is headed right for us.”

  In that moment Enzo wondered if this was his punishment for all the mistakes he’d been making with his sisters, with the estate—with Sylvie. Was the choice to stay or go being taken out of his hands? Was his past about to go up in smoke?

  In the next breath he realized he wasn’t a quitter. He refused to let the flames of fate take the decision of whether he should stay or go out of his hands.

  He would stop the fire—he hoped. He would protect this land that
had been left to him—that was so rich in memories. Some good. Some not so good.

  And then he thought of Sylvie. She was always lurking at the edge of his thoughts. This estate is where he’d first met her. For whatever reason, she loved this place. And that was all the reason he needed to do whatever needed to be done.

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  THIS COULDN’T BE HAPPENING.

  Sylvie glanced out the window of the Bartolini estate. The whole villa had been closed up to protect its residents from the thickening smoke. Luckily for them, even though the fire was now threatening the edge of the Bartolini property, the estate was vast.

  When Vito had called her to let her know that the wildfire had spread and was now heading for the estate, she’d stopped job searching and immediately returned. She had no idea what she could do to help. She just knew she had to be here for Enzo.

  After already having a close call with the baby, she wouldn’t take any chances by going out to the front lines where they were doing everything possible to stave off the fire. But that didn’t mean she couldn’t cook for all the dislocated people seeking shelter at the estate or the men and women fighting to save it.

  “Do you have more bread?” Anna, Vito’s wife, asked. “The sandwiches are going fast.”

  “I have some that just came out of the oven,” Sylvie said. “I don’t know if it’s cool enough.”

  Anna placed her hand on one of the loaves. “It’s cool enough. These guys are hungry.”

  “I’ll slice it up.” Sylvie grabbed a knife and set to work thinly slicing the bread. She wished there was more she could do than just stand around working the kitchen. “Have they said how it’s going? Are their efforts holding off the fire?”

  “They said so far so good but that could change with a gust of wind.”

  The thought of it sent a shiver of apprehension skittering down her spine.

  And then she realized that Enzo shouldn’t be facing this nightmare alone. Sure, she was there, but she wasn’t family. He needed his sisters.