8. Chapter 8
Albrecht
T his is bad . Very bad.
And no, it’s not that I’ll be sleeping on a bed three sizes too small for me. I can live with that. I actually am quite enjoying the idea of being in a simple home, hidden in a vineyard where no one can find me. Even in Portugal, my family lived in luxury, but I’ve always longed for a simpler existence and loathe people serving me. So this arrangement Nello made for me is quite nice. What’s not nice is being in such close proximity to the most alluring woman I’ve ever met.
There’s a war inside of me—one side telling me to remember my responsibilities to my family and the other begging me to pursue Giselle. I’m not sure how I’ll survive the next few weeks living with her and not giving into what I really want. And what I really, really want is her.
And I think she might want me too.
After emptying my luggage and putting away my clothes, I follow the smell of coffee down the stairs and into the kitchen. I find a freshly brewed pot and a large mug waiting for me, but no Giselle. Pouring myself a cup, I help myself to a spoonful of sugar and a dash of milk that I find on the counter.
“Giselle?” I call out quietly as I bring my coffee with me into the living room. A mumbled response has me confused as I round the corner, but it all makes sense as soon as I see her curled up on the couch with a book in her lap, fast asleep.
Her mug sits on the coffee table, barely sipped. She looks utterly content laying here like a real life sleeping beauty. I take a moment to take her in—she may be the loveliest woman I’ve ever met. This situation has got to be strange enough for her already, but I’m glad she’s comfortable enough around me that she could fall asleep with me here. Her knit blanket has slipped down, and I pull it back over her so she doesn’t get cold.
I’m about to head back upstairs to check my email when I hear a knock at the door followed by a cheery hello. Giselle stirs, rolling over onto her side as I go to answer it. I open the door to reveal her Aunt Myrtha, who’s holding a casserole dish.
“Oh, why hello again,” she says.
“Hello. Giselle’s asleep I’m afraid.”
“Oh that’s alright, I’m just dropping off my legendary gnocchi for you both to enjoy for dinner. I heard you were staying with her and figured I’d spoil you on your first night,” she says with a wink. I can’t remember the last time someone from my family made me a homemade meal. We’ve had personal chefs for as long as I can remember.
“That’s so kind of you. Here, let me help bring it in.” She lets me take it out of her hands and follows behind me as I carry it to the kitchen. “Should I leave it out or put it in the refrigerator?”
“It should be just fine sitting out. I highly suggest drinking the estate’s merlot with it,” she says before turning to leave.
“Well, thank you very much, and it was lovely to see you again.”
“Of course. You know, I was glad to hear Nello selected you as a partner. I think you and your company are a perfect fit for our family,” she says, standing in the entry doorway. But then her sunny disposition shifts and she squints her eyes at me. “But, if you dare hurt my niece in any way, I promise you will never make it back to Italy.” Her low voice leaves goosebumps on my arms. “Understood?”
“Yes, ma’am, I promise you I will treat her and everyone else here with the utmost respect.”
“Good. I’m glad we could clear that up. Have a wonderful evening,” she says with a flashing smile. I don’t think I’ve ever been more scared of a lady in my life. When Giselle wakes up I need to remember to ask if her family has any mafia connections. I wave goodbye as Myrtha drives off, and shut the door quietly.
The delicious smell of gnocchi permeates the air, and my stomach grumbles. I wouldn’t dare eat it without Giselle though, so I’ll see what sort of snack I can find in the kitchen. Just as I’m getting together some cheese and crackers, there’s a knock at the door again.
I go back to the front, expecting to open the door and find Myrtha again, but instead I’m greeted by a man who is not happy to see me.