A Taste of Romance Page 3

  “I got turned around. I was admiring the scenery and my mind sort of drifted.”

  “Napa has a way of doing that to you.” He turned his face up to the sky and closed his eyes. “It’s the sun. It casts a fantasy-like hue on everything.”

  “Is that what happened?” She laughed. “I thought I was just doing a bit of dangerous daydreaming.”

  “No. My Madre calls it the enchanted hills.”

  “That’s actually kind of romantic.”

  “Wait until you get a few glasses of wine into you. The sun sets perfectly on that hill over there.” He pointed to a hilltop with a cluster of trees.

  “I’m afraid I won’t be here long enough to see.”

  “A shame. Why don’t you go park your car in the visitor’s parking lot by the main entrance to the winery? Go inside and have a look around, and I’ll see if I can find our fearless leader.”

  “OK.” She pulled her sunglasses back down over her eyes. “It was nice meeting you, Giuseppe.”

  “It was my pleasure, Katrina.”

  Trina turned around and did her most seductive walk to the convertible, hoping he was still watching her. There was something about him that made her feel at ease. And the way he was looking at her was definitely a confidence builder too. A guy like that probably had women all over Napa Valley. He was way too smooth to be lacking for any kind of female companionship. Still, if she’d had a few days, she wouldn’t mind sharing a bottle of wine with him and a little more flirting. Too bad she wouldn’t be staying.

  CHAPTER TWO

  Marco let out a groan as he watched Trina walk to her car. It was no easy task watching a woman like that saunter away from him without at least trying to get her phone number. She was exquisite, with curly hair that seemed to only be tamed by the fancy sunglasses atop her head. She had a smile that shone brighter than a thousand suns. Her mocha skin glistened against the sun’s rays. She smelled like fresh flowers just picked from a garden. He shook his head. He sounded like an awestruck poet. It was his own body’s fault. His heart had leaped out of his chest the moment he’d looked up and saw her walking up the driveway.

  “Who was that?” Dennis said as he walked over.

  “A special guest.”

  “I can see that. I haven’t seen that kind of beautiful in a long time.” Dennis whistled.

  Amen to that. He’d been thinking the same thing, and it was those kinds of sexy thoughts that overrode his common sense when she’d approached. What was he thinking flirting with her like that? Giuseppe? Why hadn’t he corrected her? Because it was too much fun talking to her. He looked down at the label on the shirt. He said a quick prayer, hoping his deceased grandfather wasn’t in heaven angry with him because he used his shirt as a tool to flirt with a woman.

  Who was he kidding? Grandpa Di Giovanni would have been proud of him. There were no lengths a man should not go in pursuit of romance. Or something lyrical like that.

  He quickly finished packing up the van and sent Dennis on his way. Suddenly the things left on his desk didn’t seem so important when Trina was waiting for him in the main building. He hustled back to his office to spruce himself up. He then went into the bathroom connected to his office and took a good look at himself in the mirror. He hadn’t shaved this morning, but he didn’t look bad. He ran his hand through his hair and put on a little cologne. But as he looked at his reflection, his eyes locked onto the name on the shirt. He’d just let her leave thinking his name was Giuseppe and he worked in the plant. He was so enthralled with their flirty banter it hadn’t occurred to him to cut it short and reveal himself. How was he going to talk his way out of that?

  * * *

  Trina sent off a quick text to Charisma and her sister Dana as she walked toward the building, leaving it up to her cousin to alert the rest of the family she’d arrived safely.

  She took in the scenery around her. It was like a postcard come to life. There were miles of lush, green, rolling hills all around. The main building had Spanish-style architecture with the huge half-circle windows and door archways. The exterior was covered with sprawling vines and had an inviting look about it. There was a water fountain in the center of the walkway.

  The main room was an elegant setting with oak desks and tables. There were bottles on wine shelves everywhere she turned. The track lighting coupled with the brick-and-taupe walls gave the place an intimacy and comfort. She headed for the main desk.

  “Welcome to Paloma Vineyards,” a plucky blonde woman said, sporting a ponytail and a nametag. “I’m Portia. Is this your first time here?”

  “Hello, Portia. I’m Trina, and yes, it is.”

  “Can I interest you in a tour, tasting, or both? We have premier, award-winning wines that have an outstanding reputation around the world.”

  “I’ve been on the road for a while. I need a meal.” Trina saw a board with a menu on it. Maybe she could grab a bite while waiting for Marco. “How’s the food in the café?”

  “Excellent. The menu for the Vino Café is divine. I’m sure you’ll find something you’ll like.”

  “Thanks.” Trina smiled. “By the way. I’m looking for Marco. I was supposed to meet him here.”

  “Oh. You’re a friend of Marco’s.” The woman grinned.

  By the way she said the word “friend,” Trina knew what she meant. This Marco must have been a bit of a ladies’ man.

  “No. I’m not that kind of friend. I-I mean we’ve never met,” Trina stammered. Why had she been tongue-tied ever since she’d pulled onto this property? It must have been that gorgeous worker loading up the van. “I have a family member who’s friends with Marco.”

  “Let’s see.” Portia tapped her finger on her chin. “Last time I saw the boss, he was heading to the bottling building. We’re shorthanded on account that two of our employees got married and went on their honeymoon yesterday.”

  “How nice for them.”

  “I can get Marco on the phone.” She dug into her apron pocket.

  “Thanks, but it won’t be necessary. I entered the property the wrong way. There were two guys loading the trucks. One of them said he’d find Marco.”

  “Good. In the meantime, I can show you our lunch selections.” She reached behind a podium and held up an elegant menu. “I recommend the pan-seared halibut. We have a Sauvignon Blanc that pairs well with it. But if you’re looking for something cold, the charcuterie platter is filling. It’s salty with a little sweet. The prosciutto-wrapped figs are amazing. It’s something solid on your stomach so the wine doesn’t go to your head.”

  “Sounds delicious.” Trina perused the menu.

  “So, where are you from?”

  “I’m from Philly and in California on business, but I felt the urge to break away from L.A. and take a road trip. I ended up in Napa.”

  “I hear ya. Escape from L.A.” She chuckled.

  “Excuse me?”

  “Oh.” Portia waved her hand. “It’s an old dystopian-themed movie that was out way back before the current movies that made dystopian movies a thing again.”

  “Ah.”

  Just then a woman came into the winery carrying a small box with a bow on it. She was looking around as if she were searching for someone. A minute later she approached the desk. “Hi, Portia is it?”

  “That’s me,” Portia said. “And you are Kendall, right? Rianne’s bridesmaid?”

  “Yes.” Kendall smiled.

  “What brings you by? Have a friend planning another wedding?”

  “Oh no.” Kendall waved a hand. “I was just looking for Marco. Is he around?”

  “Uh.” Portia winced. “He’s been pretty busy with Rianne and Wesley being on their honeymoon and all.”

  Kendall pouted. “Too bad. I had something for him.”

  “I bet,” Portia replied.

  “I’m sorry,” Kendall said, frowning.

  “I bet I could get him that gift. I’ll make sure he knows it came from you.”

  Trina bit bac
k a smile as she listened in. Portia was clearly running interference for her boss.

  “Are you sure he’s busy?”

  “Like I said, Wesley and Rianne are practically indispensable around here. He stepped up to help to keep things flowing.”

  “OK. Do you have a pen and a piece of paper?”

  “Sure.” Portia handed her both.

  Trina and Portia watched as Kendall wrote a quick note and signed it with her floral signature and a heart. “Thanks.”

  “You’re welcome,” Portia said as she walked out the door.

  “Well. Well. Looks like your boss has an admirer,” Trina mused.

  “Kendall is going through withdrawal. She was after him like a heat-seeking missile at the wedding reception. Marco has a way with the ladies. Women chase him all the time.”

  “Sounds like his social life keeps him too busy to run a successful winery.”

  “Being gorgeous and rich is his curse. I wouldn’t be surprised if there’s a pair of panties in the box.”

  Another gorgeous man in the same vicinity? What were the odds? Men like Giuseppe were usually an anomaly. Whoever Marco was, he was probably a distant second. She didn’t have to see him to know Giuseppe would win the hot contest hands down.

  “Can I ask you a question?”

  “Sure.”

  “Are the men in Napa usually so good looking?”

  “What do you mean?” Portia perked up. “Don’t tell me there’s fresh meat on the premises and I missed him? What did he look like?”

  “Tall. Gorgeous. Sexy eyes. Killer Smile. Thick black curly hair. He said his name was—”

  “Portia!” a man called out. He was wearing the same style apron as Portia. “I’m out of white for the tasting. Can you get me a few bottles?”

  “I’ll be right there!” Portia called back as she rounded the desk. “Hmm. The only person around here that fits that description is Marco. The man looks like he was chiseled out of Italian marble. He’s the reason we book so many bachelorette parties. But I totally don’t ogle my boss.” She winked. “I’ll be back in a few minutes.”

  Trina stood there in shock as Portia hurried off to help with the wine bottles. The guy she’d been talking to was Marco. But why hadn’t he said anything? How was he going to explain that?

  She walked over to the café and was immediately put at ease. It was a nice, quaint eatery that had ten tables and a bar on the first floor. A set of stairs led to an upstairs that had tables as well as couches. That must have been where they held some of the parties. There was no television, but there was nice instrumental music playing over the sound system. Another door opened onto a patio filled with tables as well.

  “Hi, there. I’m Tobias. You can seat yourself.” The bartender motioned to the tables. “There’s no waitress on duty at the moment, but I’ll be over in a minute.”

  She grabbed a table by the window. The sun was shining brightly on some vined leaves that were attached to the outside of the building and made a cool pattern on the table. She sat down and put her purse on the window sill.

  So, Marco liked to play pretend, did he? She had something for the deceptive vintner when he got there.

  * * *

  Marco didn’t expect to be stopped by virtually every employee he had on the way to the main tasting room. It seemed everyone wanted a minute of his time while all he wanted to do was get to Trina. On the other hand, slowing down did give him some time to figure what he was going to say. It was some innocent fun that got away from him, but he was sincere.

  He looked around for her but no Trina in sight.

  “Portia have you seen—”

  “The pretty lady, Trina? She’s waiting for you in the café.”

  “Thanks.” He forged on to the café. She was sitting at a table for two by a window perusing the menu. He walked over to the bar. “Tobias, can you please bring me a bottle of the Sauvignon Blanc and two glasses over to the table?”

  The bartender nodded. “Sure, thing, boss.”

  Marco pushed himself off the bar, turned the corner, and started his slow march toward her. She was sitting in a corner in the back near one of the big arch windows. He could do it. He could find a way to eat some crow and still get her to chat with him before it was time for her to get back on the road. Still, she was beautiful. He’d take any punishment she’d give him.

  “Katrina.”

  “Giuseppe. I thought you’d forgotten all about me.”

  He smiled. “Not possible.”

  “Where’s Marco?” She put her menu down.

  Here was his chance. Tell her the truth. “He’s around here somewhere.”

  “You know what? Who cares where the stuffy windbag is. I’d much rather have lunch with you. That is, if you can spare some time away?”

  “I would be delighted to have lunch with you. No worries, Marco said to give you whatever you wanted.” He sank down in the seat. Stuffy windbag? Who exactly had she been talking to while she waited for him? He wanted to correct her. Correction, he wanted to change any hasty opinions she may have had about him.

  She picked up her menu again. “Everything looks so good. What do you recommend?”

  “The halibut is fresh. It’s brought in daily. The chef is a master.”

  “Portia said it was good.”

  Portia. She was a marvel in the tasting room, but she also had a big mouth. She could tell you her entire life story if you listened long enough. There was no telling what she’d said to Trina.

  Just then, Tobias came over with the wine.

  “Thanks, Tobias.” He saw the look Trina was giving him. “I ordered two glasses when I came in. I thought you might like it.”

  She took a sip after Tobias poured them each a glass and sat the bottle on the table. “Nice.”

  “What would you like to order?”

  “I still don’t know.” She bit her lip. “Everything sounds delicious.”

  “That settles it.” He gently pulled the menu out of her hand. “Tobias, have the chef prepare a sampler.”

  “You’ve got it—”

  Marco began coughing to drown out the word boss.

  “Do you need some water?” Trina asked.

  “No.” He held up a hand. “I’m fine.”

  He was relieved when Tobias walked away with a curious look on his face.

  “I like this place.” She looked around. “Just like the entryway.”

  “Wine should be enjoyed in beautiful, serene places and in lovely company.”

  “It’s awfully sweet of you, but don’t waste a whole paycheck to feed me.”

  “Not a problem. Marco said to give you whatever you wanted. I promised I would make sure you were given the royal treatment.”

  “Oh.”

  “See. He is a nice guy.”

  “It’s easy to bark orders. Now he’s ensnared you in his laziness.”

  Laziness? “He’s a really busy guy. Always diligently flitting about checking on things.”

  “Sounds a little bit like a flake. He knew I was coming but couldn’t take the time to at least say hello?”

  “He’s normally not this distracted.”

  “You’re a good employee for making up excuses for him. But entitled people like him need to be called out on their rude behavior.”

  He frowned. “I wouldn’t call him entitled.”

  “Is that his house on the property?”

  “Yes.”

  “It’s huge. And I’m guessing the Ferrari in the loading area belongs to him too.” She folded her arms across her chest.

  “Yes. He likes nice things. Everyone should indulge in something luxurious once in their life.” He smiled. “Enough about Marco. I’d like to talk about you. What brings you to Napa?”

  She looked at him for a moment. “Why does anyone come to Napa? It’s an oasis of wine, food, and a lush backdrop.”

  He normally would have accepted the statement at face value from anyone else, but he saw trouble in those be
autiful, soulful, expressive eyes. A woman didn’t drive six hours from Los Angeles just for the lush landscape. California was a beautiful place, but road trips like that were taken when one was pondering things deep within their soul. He wondered what was bothering her. Did something happen while she was in Los Angeles launching her music career? It was a gritty town known to take the nicest of people and turn them into something they couldn’t recognize in the mirror.

  He intended to find out.

  He removed the cork from the wine bottle and topped off her glass. The one thing he liked about wine was that it had a way of getting people to talk.

  * * *

  Trina was gearing up for the kill shot to bust Marco for letting her think his name was Giuseppe and then he asked her why she was in California. But she wouldn’t let him get off that easy. She liked how attentively he listened to her, as if he were hanging on her every word. It had been a while since a man had shown such sincere interest without staring at her cleavage. His eyes were locked with hers, so much so that she felt like blinking. But she had a feeling that if she turned away for a moment and turned back, he’d still be looking right into her eyes.

  He was hot with those dark, brooding features. His intense honey-colored eyes were offset by his thick, dark lashes. But his broad, enigmatic smile cut through that intensity and had a disarming effect. She’d immediately felt at ease as soon as he smiled at her.

  The bartender came back with a delicious-looking, fresh, toasted, crusty bread with herbed garlic dipping oil.

  Marco broke the bread, dipped it into the oil, and held it to her lips. “Try this.”

  She opened slightly and nibbled on the bread. The flavors were robust. “That’s pretty good.”

  “What do you taste?”

  She took another bite. “I definitely taste garlic, but I can’t identify the herbs.”

  “You are tasting basil, parsley, and a hint of red pepper flakes. Together they create a beautiful bouquet of herbs that complement each other.”

  “You’re right.” She sipped her wine.