About to open his door, Dante became aware that his arousal wasn’t just a heavy thrum racing in delicious anticipation in his veins.
Shaking his head in disbelief, he untucked his shirt to cover his groin and laughed. “See what you do to me? You make me feel like I’m sixteen again.”
To his amazement and delight, Callie straightened in her seat and fixed him with her death stare… but it was a death stare like she’d never given him before. This was a death stare that gleamed, and when she finally spoke, it was in a tone he just knew she used on particularly disobedient students. “Then maybe, Mr Coscarelli, you shouldn’t behave like a sixteen-year-old.”
Roaring with laughter, he climbed out of the car and met her stare again over the roof of the car, and was bestowed with a smile that took his breath away.
Dante had given personal tours of his winery and vineyards to many people since the renovations for it had been completed seven years earlier. The winery and the staff living quarters had been his priority, more so than his own living quarters. He was proud of what he’d accomplished and loved showing it off to family, friends, business acquaintances and wine buyers. Never in all those seven years had he enjoyed a tour more than this one with Callie. Watching those large eyes widen into orbs when he led her into the cellar filled his chest like nothing had ever done before.
“How many barrels are in here?” she asked faintly.
“More than seven thousand.”
“And you say each barrel has enough wine for three hundred bottles?”
“Correct.”
“You could throw one hell of a party here.”
“I have thrown many parties here. The best thing about it is not having to worry about disturbing the neighbours.”
Laughing, she placed a hand gingerly to the nearest barrel. “Clarence, the Duke of York, was drowned by his brother in a barrel of wine.”
“Was he the Duke who had ten thousand men?”
She grinned. “No, that was rumoured to be his father. This Duke, Clarence, was Edward the Fourth’s brother – by all accounts, it was Edward and their other brother Richard who drowned him.”
“For what reason?”
“Treason. They drowned him when the Medicis were at the height of their powers. It’s believed that Edward’s failure to pay off his debts to the Medici Bank contributed to the Medicis fall.”
“And you say you’re not a historian,” he said with an admiring shake of his head. “Which is your favourite period?”
Her pretty teeth razed her bottom lip as if she were biting back laughter. “The medieval period.”
“Iknewit,” he said smugly, folding his arms across his chest. “You must find staying in my castle as thrilling as you find me.”
Her face became a beacon of sweetness. “How many years of practice did it take to grow an ego as big as yours?”
“If you were to ask my sister, she would tell you I was born with it.”
“NowthatI can easily believe.”
“Can I help that I was born blessed with a ready-made ego?”
Her laughter at this fell like music to his ears. The Callie he’d woken up to was a very different Callie to the one who’d been waiting for him in her bed, as if the real Callie had been a shimmer hiding beneath her skin and had now broken free.
Dante thought about the pre-wedding celebrations taking place in Accardiano and felt not a single pang of envy. A five-day party he’d spent months looking forward to versus Callie Thomas? No, not a single pang of regret. He wouldn’t be anywhere else than here with her. He wouldn’t change a thing.
Chapter Eleven
The tour finished, they took their seats on a large outdoor table under the pagoda created for the tourist vine tours. Six bottles of varying vintage were opened and breathing, and a spread of food laid out.
Waving away the winery manager who was heading over to do the honours, Dante poured them both a small measure from the nearest bottle and passed Callie’s glass to her, saying, “This is from last year’s vintage. Swirl the glass to release the aromas, and then take a sip and swirl it in your mouth.”
Calli did as told but ignored his additional command to spit it into the bucket.
He grinned and shook his head. “I know it sounds counter-intuitive, but spitting it out makes it taste better – you feel more of the wine on your palate.”
