that would be.”
“You’re doing it.”
She wasn’t entirely sure what he was referring to and was afraid to ask.
They reached the quiet corner of the estate where her guest suite was located and paused in the gravel parking lot. Lillian dug into her purse for her key.
She wondered if she should invite Anton inside to continue the conversation. Uncertainty abounded as she allowed him to shine the flashlight on the dark stairs while she climbed to the top and inserted the key into the lock. When she pushed the door open, she turned to him.
He looked very forlorn. And handsome. She didn’t want to say good night. She wanted to talk some more.
“Would you like to come in?” she asked.
He nodded and started up the stairs.
Lillian switched on the overhead light. They both squinted, so she moved to the small lamp by the sofa and lit the room more gently.
It was stiflingly hot in the apartment. While Anton stood at the door, Lillian went from room to room, opening all the windows. She returned to the kitchen to switch off the main overhead light, and the room took on a cozy golden glow.
Anton had not moved from his spot at the door. “Lillian . . .” The timbre of his voice held a note of apology.
Did he not want to stay?
He wet his lips. “I’d understand if you would prefer that I go.”
“Why do you say that?”
“Because you’re married, and your husband is away, and I’m . . . well, I’m still married. And you work for me. I don’t want there to be any questions about—”
“Please stay,” she implored. “We’ll just talk.”
He hesitated briefly, then shut the door behind him.
Lillian removed her sandals and padded into the kitchen. “Would you like some coffee?”
“That would be nice. Thank you.”
She set to work, spooning grounds into the stainless steel percolator, knowing full well that it would keep her up all night, but she didn’t care. Anton was here.
He moved to the sofa and sat down. “I can’t help but wonder now, in light of what’s happening, if my wife just married me for my money.”
Lillian poured water into the coffeepot and flipped the switch. “I’m sure that’s not true. You’re an incredible man. A woman would have to be mad not to fall in love with you.”
He chuckled softly. “That’s very kind. For the record, I wasn’t fishing for a compliment, but I do appreciate it. Nothing to get a man down on himself like a woman telling him she never wants to see him again.”
Lillian sat down next to him on the sofa. “She didn’t actually say that, did she?”
“Not in so many words, but the overall message was the same.” He exhaled sharply. “The fact is—if she loved me, she wouldn’t want to be apart, no matter where I lived. But I suppose you could say the same thing about me. Maybe I’m making my choice, too—this winery over everything else. But she never asked me to sell it and move to LA. I don’t think that’s what she wants.”
Lillian laid her arm across the back of the sofa and rested her temple on her finger. “Do you love her?”
He thought about that for a moment, then lowered his eyes. “Not enough, I suppose. My children, though . . .”
Nodding with understanding, Lillian stood up to check on the gurgling coffeepot. “Tell me about how the two of you met.”
He spoke while watching her retrieve two mugs from the cupboard and prepare a serving tray.
“It was just after I’d recovered from my illness and my brother bought me out of the company. I didn’t really know what to do with myself at that point. I met Kate at a charity event for the homeless. She was working for the caterer, serving drinks and canapés. Later, she told me that for her, it was love at first sight, and maybe it was for me too. She was gorgeous, and I was taken with her American accent. We flirted, and before you knew it, we were heavily involved. A year later we got married, and everything seemed fine. She enjoyed living in London, and I thought we’d do anything for each other, go anywhere together. We came to Italy on a holiday, and we both fell in love with the place. When I spotted this winery for sale, she seemed in love with it, too, but maybe she was just caught up in the moment, or she was humoring me. Or maybe