Paris Is Always a Good Idea - Jenn McKinlay Page 0,115

I squealed over their roly-poly adorableness, Marcellino asked me if I’d like one when they were old enough to leave their mama. Not knowing what to make of that suggestion, I didn’t answer. Was he thinking I’d be staying long enough to get a dog? I tried not to panic. This was what I wanted, wasn’t it?

I was two and a half days into the five days Jason had said he’d give me until work required my attention again, and I was getting antsy. While I was enjoying my time with Marcellino immensely, I didn’t know if what I felt was the same stirring of emotion I’d had with him before or if it was just the joy of being at the vineyard again. I didn’t think I’d know for sure until we progressed beyond the hand-holding stage, but I wasn’t sure how to get us there.

My opportunity came that evening, when Marcellino invited me for a stroll through the olive orchard. He wanted to check on the pruning to see that it was finished, and asked if I’d join him. I hoped it was his way of trying to take us to the next level. I was all in.

Twilight in the vineyard was magical, with a full moon rising over the hills, illuminating the silvery leaves of the olive trees and giving them an ethereal glow. No doubt about it—it was a wonderful backdrop for falling in love. Come on, Marcellino, I mentally cheered him on.

Like every moment of the past few days, it was perfect. A perfect view shared with a perfect man in a perfect place. It was almost more perfection than I could stand. And yet he still didn’t make a move. Damn it.

I wondered if Jason was right; maybe Marcellino was gay. I mean, not that he had to be with me to prove that he wasn’t. Oh no, maybe that was it. Now that I was here, maybe he just wasn’t that into me. Ack, I was feeling the stirring of emotion right now, but it wasn’t a good one. Was I in for another humiliation from a former boyfriend?

No! I refused to accept defeat. Marcellino had been a perfect gentleman during the past two days. That didn’t mean he wasn’t interested; he was just respectful. Wasn’t that what every woman wanted these days? A man who treated her well? Feeling better, I decided it was do or die, right here on this vineyard hillside. I turned to him.

“Thank you, Marcellino,” I said. I moved closer.

“For what?” He tipped his head and watched me. He didn’t back away, so I took that as a good sign.

“For being you.” And then I made my move. I slid my hands up his arms and pressed up against him. I met his gaze and tried to will him to lean down and kiss me. He hesitated, putting his hands on my hips as if he was undecided as to whether he should pull me in closer or hold me away.

A rustling noise from the bushes startled me, and I jumped, dropping my hands from him. I turned to see a wild hare sprinting away through the trees. I laughed and put my hand over my heart to calm its frantic beating. I tried not to dwell on the fact that my heart raced harder from the bunny scare than it did from being held by Marcellino.

The sound of an engine ripped through the quiet. By the light of the moon, I could see a motorcycle tearing up the dirt road toward the castle, leaving a cloud of dust in its wake. I assumed it was one of the vineyard workers coming back from an evening in town, but I noticed Marcellino was frowning in concern. Clearly, this was not someone who worked here.

He took my hand, and we left the grove and hurried up the hill to the parking lot beside the castle. The man pulled up in front of us, parking next to the cars belonging to Marcellino and resident staff. He cut the engine on the bike, put down the kickstand, and lifted the dark-blue helmet off his head. I blinked twice and then I gasped. Jason?!

chapter twenty-three

KNIGHTLEY, WHAT THE hell are you doing here?” I asked.

“You know this man?” Marcellino asked. His frown eased.

“Yes, we . . . um . . . work together,” I said. “This will just take a minute.”

I let go of his hand and marched forward. I was furious. He