Two seconds after I make the decision, I hear the sound of a scooter approaching. The first thing I see come up the hill is a mop of blonde hair flying wildly in the wind. Then my gaze drops to the billowing skirt that reveals a pair of very nice legs. The driver slows down, stopping completely just a few steps away from me.
“Ciao. Problemi con la macchina?” the young woman asks.
I don’t speak Italian, but I can guess what she’s saying, so I nod. My tongue is stuck in my mouth. I lost the ability to speak because I’m too busy admiring the stranger. The only words that pop in my head to describe her are “achingly beautiful.”
Shit. I must be losing my mind. I shouldn’t be having such visceral reactions to attractive women.
She continues in Italian, and I soon become lost. I only know the basic words to get around. “Sorry, no parlo Italiano.”
“Ah, you’re American. Let me guess, the rental company forgot to add the jack?”
“Yes. Is that a normal occurrence here?”
“I don’t know. It was just a guess. You have the spare out, but you weren’t changing the tire. I doubt the reason is lack of knowledge or physical ability.”
I can’t help but raise an eyebrow at her as the corners of my lips twitch upward. God, when was the last time I felt such easy amusement?
I cross my arms in front of my chest and say, “How do you know I’m not an overly pampered ass without any hand skills?”
Her blue gaze makes a quick scan of my six-foot-three frame before she smirks. “I seriously doubt that’s the case. Where were you headed? Maybe I can give you a lift?”
My heart kicks up a notch, and I feel like a fucking teenager suffering from my first major crush. This is absolutely insane. Despite my body’s reaction, I frown at her. Hasn’t anyone taught her how unwise it is to offer rides to strangers, especially pretty girls like her?
But I’m not an idiot. I’ll take the lift. “Winery Della Vecchia,” I say.
Her delicate eyebrows arch as her plump, cherry-colored lips make a little O shape. I’m hit by a sudden urge to kiss the hell out of her, and in the same breath, I berate myself for having such inappropriate thoughts. I’m not a caveman.
“Oh, they aren’t open today,” she says.
“They don’t open on Saturdays?”
“They usually do, but today they’re closed.” She pauses and seems to be deep in thought before she peers at me from under her thick eyelashes. “Do you feel like crashing a wedding party?”
The sudden change of subject takes me by surprise. “What?”
“I know it sounds crazy, but if you were looking to taste some amazing wine, my cousin’s wedding is the place to be.”
“I wasn’t going to the winery for wine tasting alone.”
“Oh, you were hoping to talk with the Della Vecchias?”
“Yes.”
“Then you should definitely come with me. They’ll be there.”
Staring hard at the gorgeous woman in front of me, I can’t believe I’m actually contemplating her offer. I was hoping to chat with the Della Vecchias about a particular grape they grow, and a social event would be the perfect opportunity to introduce myself and pick their brains without being too obvious. Visiting their winery was a last-minute, impulsive idea, and it didn’t even occur to me to call beforehand.
She doesn’t cower from my intense gaze; instead, she stares right back at me with a glint of amusement in her eyes. Cocking her head to the side, she smiles. “You’re not afraid of me, are you? I promise I’m not a psycho.”
I chuckle, running a hand through my hair. “What if I’m the psycho? Did you consider that?”
Her bright smile turns into a smirk as she narrows her gaze. “Nah. You’re not a psycho. You look more like a cuddly bear.”
I do something I haven’t done in a long time—I throw my head back and laugh loudly, as a feeling of euphoria spreads through my chest.
“See, you’re already having fun, and we haven’t even gotten there yet.”
The laughter is gone, but the excitement is still coursing through my veins.
“I don’t think I’m wearing appropriate clothes to attend a wedding.” I stare down at my jeans and Iron Maiden T-shirt.
“I can find you clothes. Come on. Where’s your sense of adventure?”
The sassy smile that blossoms on her lips is what seals my fate.
“What the hell. Why not?”
3
Chiara
A spike of adrenaline shoots up my veins as the American hunk hops behind me on the Vespa, looping his strong arms around my waist. He’s so big, he barely fits on the small scooter.
I try not to think about what I just did. This is most definitely not one of my smartest ideas. Despite my bold talk that I know he isn’t a bad guy, he could very well be a psychopath.
Tonight, I’m willing to take the risk. I can’t face that stupid wedding by myself. I need a distraction, and Mr. Cuddly Bear couldn’t be more perfect. He doesn’t really look like a stuffed toy, more like the opposite. He’s so rugged with those tattoos on his arm, that scruff on his face, and massive body; he’s sure to give my mother a heart attack. Plus, he’s the complete opposite of preppy Pietro. I need different. Maybe it’s high time I forget my cousin’s fiancé.
Aside from the American’s sinful good looks, it was his deep voice that made my blood course faster through my veins and ultimately throw caution out the window.
