CHAPTER FOUR
CHAPTER FOUR
C HARLOTTE WALKED DOWN a sunlit staircase, passing painting after painting that could rival those in any art gallery. She stopped to admire one but wasn’t really seeing any of the details.
She was procrastinating.
Sleep hadn’t dulled her mortification, and as much as she wanted to see Enzo to have a taste of that feeling again, she wanted to avoid him. She’d shut off her usual alarm and tried to doze, but it hadn’t worked. So she had taken an extra-long shower and taken her time getting ready.
All to give her the best chance of missing Enzo.
Part of her wondered if her reaction was a bit extreme. After all, there was no guarantee that she would still feel the things she had last night. She had consumed a fair amount of wine—maybe it was just a fluke? Either way, she was committed to being even more closed-off. More efficient. She had taken a silly risk, but that was in the past. Now she had work to do.
‘Good morning, Celeste,’ came Isabella’s highly accented greeting. ‘Come, I have prepared you a breakfast.’
‘Oh, you really shouldn’t have worried. I have work to get to.’
‘Nonsense. You will eat first.’
Isabella ushered Charlotte into the spacious kitchen where a spread was laid out on a large island. A spread for one.
Charlotte laughed. ‘There’s enough to feed an army here, Isabella. Won’t you join me?’ She didn’t know what it was about the older woman, but her presence was comforting. Since Charlotte was unlikely to return to Perlano, there was little risk in indulging in some company.
‘Oh, I couldn’t.’
‘Please?’
With a motherly sigh and smile, Isabella said, ‘Fine. Maybe just a coffee.’
Charlotte reached for a cornetto and was pleased to see Isabella sit down and do the same.
‘I’m afraid Leoncino has already left. He said to inform you that he would return later.’
So Charlotte was in the clear for now. ‘Was that all he said?’
‘He also said you could work from the downstairs office. It used to be where his mother worked.’
Two offices. Maybe she could avoid her boss for a little while longer.
But avoiding Enzo didn’t mean that Charlotte wasn’t still curious. He had been different since they arrived: driving himself, teasing, talking—not to mention the wine. On the terrace she’d wanted to uncover more about Enzo, and to her surprise, despite her mortification about the almost-kiss, that desire hadn’t gone away. It would be a mistake to act on it. A very bad idea. She had worked so hard all this time to keep him at a distance. To remain safe. So even though she was curious, and even though she was so starved for company, she needed to bury the curiosity. Bury it with all the other pieces of herself that she had to hide.
‘Leoncino is—’
‘Why do you call him Leoncino?’ she blurted.
You complete idiot! What did we just decide, Charlotte?
Damn this sudden inability to control herself when it came to her boss!
Isabella chuckled, her face lighting up. ‘Because he is my little lion. When he was young, he would walk around here like a little master. He was always so brave. From the youngest age, he was staring down an impossible path, but he always took it on. Nothing was too big for our Enzo. He thought he could protect everyone.’
Charlotte could see it. He still acted like the master of the universe. She ate thinking about the change in him in this place. Would he be back to normal once they were in Sydney again?
Thinking of the office had her looking at the time. She had wasted so much of it avoiding Enzo, she really needed to get a start on her day even if it meant leaving Isabella’s company. It had been so long since she’d shared a meal with someone, chatted like this. Charlotte kept telling herself there was a reason why she lived the way she did—it was better than being dragged back to a place where she was just her father’s pawn—but it was lonely.
She drained her cup and asked Isabella to show her to the office.
It was lovely. Books lined two walls, and beside the door on either side were large paintings of the estate and its grounds. Large glass doors opened onto the very same terrace Charlotte had shared with Enzo the night before, with a view straight to the fountain.
‘Enzo’s office is directly above you, but if you need anything, I am here,’ Isabella said before leaving, closing the door behind her.
Charlotte’s computer bag was already placed on the large desk. Beside it sat her glasses.
Her hands immediately went to her face. Sure enough, she wasn’t wearing them. She cursed loudly and grabbed them, jamming them onto her face, her heart racing. Sweat beaded on her brow, and her palms became clammy as panic consumed her.
How could she have been so careless? What had Enzo noticed?
A voice at the back of her mind told her to calm down. People forgot or lost their glasses all the time.
‘But I don’t!’ she yelled at herself, just as pain erupted in her stomach. She reached into her bag for one of her trusty antacids, chewing on it as she thought. What had she done after she took them off? Charlotte couldn’t remember. Most importantly, she didn’t remember doing anything to raise suspicions about who she was. It was impossible to forget the almost-kiss, but apart from that she could think of nothing that would have made Enzo distrust her. She had been flustered. He would chalk forgetting her glasses up to that, surely.
She threw the doors to the terrace open and took a deep breath. All was not lost. She just had to put the wall between her and Enzo back up, and there would be no more catastrophes.
It had taken all of Charlotte’s willpower to concentrate on the work she had to do. She was grateful that Enzo wasn’t around as a distraction because her mind already wanted to go constantly back to the night before. She had been working for hours, and her neck ached. Still, she concentrated until footsteps outside the office alerted her to Enzo’s arrival. He marched towards her with a scowl on his face.
Instantly she was on her feet.
‘Mr De Luca, what’s—?’
‘Get ready, we’re going to the vineyards.’
‘Yes, sir.’
Wondering what was going on, she gathered her bag and tablet while Enzo paced. His hair stuck up at odd angles as if he had been gripping it in frustration. He was agitated. That wasn’t good. Charlotte had never seen him like this. He was the control in the room. He kept people calm. But this trip was already so different. There was a human under all that, breaking through as he came apart.
She had seen from his calendar that he had been at his lawyers. Whatever was happening, it couldn’t be good. It was just like Enzo to keep his thoughts to himself, never to allow anyone into his plans until absolutely necessary. Charlotte knew she would only find out what was going on once he assigned her a task, so she rushed out behind him to a pathway that led away from the estate.
She was thankful that she had opted to wear sensible shoes because while it was always a mission to keep up with Enzo, it was even more so on the uneven ground and his impatient pace. She noticed his hands were fisted at his sides as he walked. He was an entirely different man from the one in Sydney.
They walked until they came upon a large building that seemed to defy time, looking like it had been standing an age while still new and modern in parts. It was obviously taken care of, refurbished numerous times over the centuries.
When they stepped in, the winery was cool and impressively clean. It screamed Enzo. The newer parts of the building didn’t take away from the older. If anything, it celebrated the historical architecture. But she didn’t have much time to appreciate it when Enzo was storming through the place.
Clearly, he was looking for someone in particular. Charlotte knew she was there to take notes, but it felt like it was going to be her job to calm Enzo down.
‘Marco!’ Enzo shouted as they walked between massive barrels.
A man at the end of the passage looked up from his clipboard with a frown and walked towards them.
‘Did you give Emilio a walkthrough?’ Enzo asked through gritted teeth. Charlotte looked at him in surprise. She’d never once heard him speak in that manner to anyone, let alone an employee.
Marco recoiled, obviously stunned. His mouth opened and closed soundlessly before he stammered a response. ‘Um...y-yes, he was here about a month ago. He wanted a full tour. Is everything okay?’ He looked to Charlotte for help, shock still plain on his face.
‘Anything else?’ There was a throbbing vein in Enzo’s temple. This was wrong. Charlotte knew she had to do something. Her boss’s respect and integrity were things she greatly admired. If he continued like this, he would only regret it later.
‘Well, he asked how often Mrs De Luca would visit, which I thought was odd, but I just put it down to her death.’
‘I don’t pay you to make calls like that,’ Enzo snapped. ‘I pay you to—’
‘Excuse me, Marco,’ Charlotte said, having heard enough. ‘Can you give us a moment? I need Mr De Luca to look at something urgent that has just come through.’
Marco looked between them and nodded before turning around and walking away, confusion clear on his face. She didn’t blame him. She was confused too.
Enzo turned his furious glare on her, but Charlotte wasn’t cowed by it. Instead, she placed her hand on his arm and pulled him between the casks.
‘Enzo, is everything okay?’ she asked, knowing she had to be the calm in this situation.
‘What?’
‘This isn’t you. You don’t treat employees like this. You have never spoken to anyone like you just did to Marco, and he didn’t deserve it.’
Enzo cursed under his breath, rubbing his temples with his right hand, but Charlotte stepped closer into his eyeline, forcing him to look at her. A warmth flared within her, their proximity making her heart beat faster. His loss of control was somehow stirring. Even on the terrace he had summoned his self-restraint before they could kiss, but now there were no masks, his emotions on display. It made Charlotte wonder what it would be like if he lost control with her. What that kiss would have been like if he had been unleashed.
She pushed past the thought, past the curling in her belly. She needed to bring controlled Enzo back to the surface.
‘Emilio is his boss too. Why would it matter if Emilio had a tour?’
A muscle ticked in Enzo’s jaw as he looked into her eyes, but he was quiet, so she knew he was listening.
‘Let’s take a break and get a drink and then we can relook at what’s going on. You can speak to Marco once you’re calmer.’ As soon as the words were out of her mouth, Charlotte realised she had broken one of her own rules. She always made everything seem like it was Enzo’s idea, but now she had taken charge. She had essentially given her word that she would solve a problem with him, something she normally felt wasn’t her place. It was a risk. She was stepping into the limelight, doing something that would make Enzo take notice of her. Not to mention Marco. Either of them could unwittingly let slip information about her to the wrong person and attract her father’s attention. Her stomach throbbed painfully, but she had no antacids with her, and she couldn’t focus on the pain when something serious was going on with Enzo. She couldn’t leave him alone in it.
‘You’re right,’ Enzo said at last. ‘Let’s go back to the house.’
Charlotte nodded and turned to lead the way out, but he didn’t immediately follow.
‘Wait for me out there. I have to apologise to Marco.’
She was glad to see that he was able to admit when he was wrong. That was the man she admired and chose to work for. And that was the man who was becoming increasingly more dangerous to her because her heart had not slowed. When he’d looked into her eyes, she hadn’t wanted him to stop.
She couldn’t allow this attraction to continue. It wouldn’t end well for her.
Enzo walked beside Celeste in silence. He could feel her occasional glances at him, but he wouldn’t acknowledge them. He’d behaved abominably, and she’d been right to pull him aside, getting him to see and think rationally. He couldn’t remember anyone else having the power to reach him like that. Maybe one...but even Gia had only had that power because Enzo allowed her to have it. Celeste had simply barged through the red haze and pulled him out.
The path narrowed slightly, and he watched her step ahead of him. That was new, he realised. She always followed quietly behind, but in the winery she was bold. There was fire in her. Even now as they walked, she didn’t look over her shoulder—she simply led. There was more to his PA than he had realised. Well, he had found that out the night before. He’d been so close to making a mistake on the terrace, so close to kissing her. He both thanked and cursed his sense for returning in time to make her run from him, so hurried that she’d forgotten her glasses. The same glasses that he’d left on her desk and that she now wore. Glasses that she obviously didn’t need. He’d seen her read the label on the wine bottle. He’d watched her race away from the darkened terrace. Perhaps it was a style choice, but he greatly doubted that. It was yet another piece that didn’t quite fit into the puzzle of her that, for some reason, he desperately wanted to solve.
That was exactly why he had left so early this morning: he needed space from Celeste. Going to the lawyers had successfully pushed her from his mind for a short while, but only because finding out that the second will—a will that had been sent only to Emilio as per Valentina’s instruction—was valid had enraged him. If Enzo wanted to retain ownership of the vineyards, he had to find a way to invalidate the second will because his mother had indisputably left them to Emilio.
Enzo had no idea why his brother had kept the information secret for so long. Perhaps his visits to the vineyards had something to do with that. In any case, they had little contact, and he was certain if Emilio could have had the lawyers handle everything without ever letting Enzo know, he would have. Because he was a coward. It still didn’t explain their mother’s change of heart, however, and that betrayal weighed heavily on his mind. A constant hurt.
Enzo was angry that so much had been kept from him. He was angry at the mother he still loved and still missed for doing this. He couldn’t understand her motivations. He didn’t understand why Emilio was so set on ruining Perlano for him.
The vineyards meant a lot to all of them. Enzo had wonderful memories of protecting his mother from the wasps and spiders while she tended to the plants. If he wasn’t there with her, he visited with his father, who had taught him how to inspect the plants and winery.
Once when he was young, his father had placed Enzo on his shoulders and as far as he could see there were only grapevines. Every row laden with fruit.
‘One day, Enzo, all of this will be yours, and you alone will be responsible for our people. For our family and our history.’
The memory made Enzo miss his father so much his chest ached.
He didn’t realise where he was until they had walked into his office. How did Celeste know where it was? Had she been exploring? Searching through his home? Strangely, the thought wasn’t upsetting. And it should have been. He hadn’t shown her around for a reason. He didn’t trust people, generally. But it had already been a trying day, and he’d been barely holding on to his temper for most of it, so perhaps he simply had no more capacity for anger.
He walked to the window, looking out at the vineyards that stretched in an undulating sea of green. They had existed even before the company did. Not a lot of people realised just how much the De Luca history was tied to these vineyards, but he did.
‘Here you go,’ Celeste said, handing him a glass of grappa. The spirit was made in their estate in Piemonte. Just like his father, Enzo used to drink it as a digestif after his meal, taking a moment just for himself in the privacy of his office. It had been a long time since he’d indulged in the ritual, but now Celeste had given that to him again.
Enzo took a small sip, relishing the spicy, floral hints. The vineyards were part of who he was as they were for every conte before him. It didn’t matter what the second will said.
‘He’ll never have them,’ he muttered under his breath.
‘Who won’t have what?’
‘Emilio,’ he responded, turning to face Celeste, unsure of why he was telling her this. Maybe it was because he was already trying to hold back so much anger and disappointment that he didn’t have enough control left to stop the words spilling from his lips. ‘Emilio wants the vineyards. All of them. He is in possession of a second will that states they should belong to him, and he wishes to take them.’ Just like Emilio, always wanting to take what was Enzo’s. He’d succeeded with Gia; Enzo wasn’t about to let it happen again.
And what about his mother’s betrayal? All three of them were aware that his father had gifted the vineyards to her, but that she was expected to bequeath them to Enzo. It had been so in the first will. Why did she create the second? Why didn’t she warn him? Was he being punished for leaving? He couldn’t stay. Not after the affair. She had always said she understood that.
Enzo looked down into the narrow long-stemmed glass, at the nearly colourless liquid, caught between hurt and anger, and said, ‘I’ll make sure that he will never have them.’ After all, he was the conte. The vineyards were his.
The words made unease creep into Charlotte’s belly. She had dealt with possessive men before. Had run from them. If Enzo had a possessive streak, it was one more reason why what lay between them could only ever be an attraction that was never acted upon.
But she sensed that there was more to it than that. Enzo was so private, and so little of his personal life got out into the media that she didn’t even know what his relationship with his brother was like. And Enzo wouldn’t share more, she knew that. She was amazed he had shared so much with her already. Whatever was actually going on must be tearing him up, because she was certain it had been hurt that had flashed across his face before his expression hardened once more. It was possibly that brand-new vulnerability that had her speaking now, that had her wanting to offer comfort in some way.
‘I have a half sister,’ she said. ‘We grew up together, mostly. I was four when she was born. I had hoped we would be close. I was so young when she came into the world, so excited, and I kept waiting for her to be old enough that we could do things together, but that never happened. She made my life as unpleasant as she could as often as she could. You see, she was always a little bit jealous that she wasn’t the firstborn. That I was the one meant to take over...’
‘Take over what?’
Charlotte looked up to see Enzo paying close attention, his glass ignored as he looked only at her, and she realised that she had almost slipped up and revealed too much. She couldn’t tell him that she was meant to have taken over her father’s business. There would be far too many questions—he might find out just how wealthy her family was. So she deflected.
‘It doesn’t matter. The point is the way siblings act out is usually just a symptom of another issue.’
Celeste had Enzo’s complete attention. He wanted her to keep talking, so to keep the atmosphere as it was, he picked up his glass of grappa and took a small sip, pleased to see Celeste do the same. It really had been a long time since he had shared a drink with anyone without having to conduct business, and here he was, doing it twice with Celeste in as many days.
‘Do you see much of your sister?’ He almost regretted asking the question when he saw the sadness in her face that she quickly covered up.
‘I don’t really see my family anymore.’
Why? He wanted to find out more. He didn’t understand this need. Why was he so intrigued? Why did he like the idea of knowing her?
What he did know was that he would much rather keep the focus on Celeste instead of saying any more about himself. He didn’t confide in people. He didn’t trust anyone enough to do so. His thoughts were safer if no one knew them.
But you did share your thoughts with her.
He couldn’t lie to himself; he had done so, and he did it without thinking. What was it about her?
He moved closer to Celeste, catching the scent of blackcurrant and vanilla just like he did on the plane. For the first time, he noticed the sprinkling of freckles on her cheeks. She looked up at him, her gaze never wavering from his, and he realised that he was seeing a different side to her. She wasn’t looking away. He had always known she was smart, but there was a confident, feisty woman that she kept hidden and now—just like the night before—she was trying to break free.
Closer. He kept drawing closer until his eyes dipped to her slightly parted lips and all he could think about was kissing her. How sweet would she taste? What sounds would she make for him? How soft were her pink lips?
How was it possible that he was only just realising how beautiful she was? It was like waking from a dream. How could he have missed something so glaringly obvious when it was in front of him this whole time? She had been working for him for two years, for heaven’s sake!
Exactly! She’s been working for you for two years! What are you doing?
What was he doing? She was his PA. The realisation was like being doused in ice-cold water, and he pulled away, shocked that he had almost kissed her again.