at the villa that night. But the way Anton made her feel inside eradicated any possibility of acting sensibly. She was overcome. Mostly, it was a sexual desire—she couldn’t deny it—but that wasn’t everything. Something about Anton Clark felt like home, and all she wanted to do was run toward that place and curl up in it.
They dined outdoors that night, by the light of a dozen thick white wax candles. It was a larger crowd than usual and included a few vineyard workers and a new Italian tour guide—a university student who lived in town. Her name was Teresa, and she was tall, slender, and very pretty. Before dinner, Lillian had watched Anton speak to her for a while at the edge of the lawn, swirling his red wine around in his glass, holding it up to the light of the sunset and showing her how to identify the legs and articulate the aromas. Lillian began to wonder if it was his habit to be kind and attentive to all his tour guides, and perhaps she was making too much of the attraction between them. Life would certainly be easier if that were the case, if she could sweep her infatuation aside and recognize it as nothing more than a foolish crush on her handsome, charismatic boss.
When they sat down to eat, Caterina served a mouthwatering lamb stew with warm biscuits and salty butter, while Domenico presented a special vintage of Brunello to go along with the stew. The mixture of flavors exploded deliciously on Lillian’s tongue. For dessert, they enjoyed a dark-chocolate-and-cherry cake with whipped cream and coffee.
Lillian noticed that Anton was more reserved than usual. He didn’t seem quite himself. She was also conscious of how Teresa and Matteo seemed to be hitting it off at the far end of the table. Anton hardly looked at Teresa, but he met Lillian’s gaze frequently. He watched her while others were talking and while she was simply enjoying her meal. Whenever she felt his eyes on her, she looked up and shared a private communiqué with him, which she recognized as a desire to be alone together. She wanted it, and she knew he felt the same. It was real. She had imagined nothing.
Afterward, no one batted an eye when Anton announced that he was walking Lillian back to her guest suite. It was a gorgeous summer evening under a three-quarter moon. Teresa said good night and was picked up by her father in front of the villa. Mr. and Mrs. Guardini wandered off hand in hand, laughing as they talked, and Matteo remained at the table with Marco, discussing petrol prices and American cars and dipping into a bottle of scotch.
As soon as Anton and Lillian were beyond the gate and alone on Cypress Row, with nothing but the beam of the flashlight illuminating their way, Anton said, “I’m glad you came tonight.”
“Me too,” she replied. “But you were quiet. Is everything all right?”
The air was humid, and it caused her sundress to stick to her skin.
Anton looked down at the ground. “I’m sorry about that. Something happened this afternoon.”
“Can you tell me about it?”
He paused, then took a breath. “After I left you at the pool and went back to the villa, there was a message that my wife had called, so I called her back.” He hesitated again, and Lillian waited for him to continue. “She told me that she didn’t want to come here anymore, that the children were better off in LA, near her family. She wants a divorce.”
Lillian’s heart ached for him. “Oh, Anton. I’m so sorry.”
“I asked her to reconsider,” he continued. “I suggested that we get a house here for her parents to come and stay whenever they want. Maybe a flat in Montepulciano or even Florence if they prefer the city. But she didn’t like that idea. She made it clear that she preferred America over Italy and that she wanted her children to grow up there. Not here.”
“But they’re your children too.”
“I did remind her of that, but she’s going to put up a fight.”
Lillian lifted her gaze. “How could anyone not want to raise children in a place like this?”
“I wish she shared your feelings. Now I’m looking at another legal battle. I suspect she’s going to bleed me dry, financially.”
Lillian looked up at the sky. “I’m so sorry. I can’t even imagine. I wish there was something I could do to help, but I don’t know what