"I'm tired," she said instead. "It's making me say silly things."
"You should get some rest, then."
Easier said than done. True rest had eluded her for years. The last time she'd relaxed-truly relaxed-had been when? The first few months of her marriage? Such a long time ago.
Dear Lord, but she was tired of being on guard, and Nico's touch felt so wonderfully comforting. With a soothing brush of his hand, her resistance slipped a little further. It felt so good having someone on her side. Nico's shoulder was right there. Broad, capable, strong. Would it be so bad if she leaned on him for just a little bit? She was so very tired of being alone.
With a soft sigh escaping her lips, she curled into him.
"It's all right," she heard Nico whisper as his arms wrapped around her. "I'm here. I'll take care of everything."
* * *
This was a first for Nico. Taking a woman in his arms without any intention of making love to her. But as he drew her close, her sweet floral scent wrapping itself around him, his only thought was of reassurance. He knew why, of course. Louisa's cool and distant mask had slipped, and the vulnerability he saw deepened the queer sense of protectiveness she'd awakened in him. Every time, the depth of what he was feeling shocked him. What was it about this blonde American that made him want to fly to America and strangle every reporter in the country personally for causing her such pain?
At least he could make sure the European press didn't copy their American colleagues, even if he had to physically throw every paparazzo in Italy off his property. Cradling her head against his shoulder, he whispered. "It's all right. I'll take care of everything."
Instantly, she stiffened. "No," she said pulling out of his embrace. "Don't."
Nico opened his mouth to argue, expecting to see the same indignant expression he'd seen at the wedding, the last time she reacted this way. The color had drained from her face, turning her so pale her skin nearly matched the white blond of her hair. Her eyes were pale, too, as though she were struggling to keep fear from invading their depths.
If he didn't know better, he'd say she seen a ghost.
What had he done? Or had something else happened in Boston, something more than the paparazzi trapping her in her home?
She blinked and the expression disappeared. Back was the Louisa he knew best. Distant and guarded. "It was wrong of me to lean on you like that," she said. "I lost myself for a second. It won't happen again."
"There's nothing wrong with turning to a friend when you're upset." He wondered if the word friend sounded as wrong to her ears as it did his. Surely holding a friend didn't feel as good as holding Louisa did. There was an amazing rightness in the way her body connected with his.
"I know, but..." She looked past him, to the window that looked into the front office. Inside, Vitale and Mario could be seen talking. "You've already done enough, letting me hide here."
That wasn't what she was going to say. She was worried what others would think.
"You are not hiding; you are working. Believe me, it is you who will be doing me the favor."
"Do you invite all your employees to stay at your house?"
"Only the beautiful ones," he teased. When she didn't share the joke, he turned serious. "No one will know that you're staying at my house."
"You don't think they'll figure it out?"
"Only if we tell them," he replied. "I've never had much taste for airing personal business in public."
Finally, she smiled. "Nico Amatucci, the model of discretion."
"Something like that."
"Just in case, now that I am working here, I think it's important that you treat me the same as any other employee. Especially considering today's headlines. No sense feeding the gossip."
"You're right." A voice in his head, though, told him gossip was only part of her reason. There was something more to her distance. And not the need to spend time alone, as she'd claimed the other day. It was as if she feared the attraction simmering between them. He supposed he couldn't blame her; the desire was stronger than anything he'd experienced before, as well.
"A regular employee," he said, echoing her words. Now was not the time to push for more. "I'll leave the hugs to your female friends. Speaking of, have you spoken to Dani?"
Louisa shook her head. "Not yet."
"Why not?" Of course. The way she looked away said everything. She was embarrassed. In spite of his lecture yesterday, she still worried her friends thought less of her.
If I had friends. Her comment from earlier came rushing back, and his insides tensed with anger on her behalf.
"You should call her," he said. "She's worried."
"I will. After I've settled in."
"Good." If she didn't, he would tell Dani and the others to come visit. She needed to know she had friends on her side, that the people of Monte Calanetti cared what happened to her.
As much as he did.
They spent the rest of the morning touring the winery. Nico explained the entire winemaking process from when the lifts brought freshly picked fruit to the loading dock to the fermentation stage, when the wine aged in oak barrels, just as it had for hundreds of years.
Occasionally, they passed an employee who would murmur a quick hello and rush away. While Louisa pretended not to mind the chilly reception, the words if I had friends repeated in his head. All he could picture was her barricaded in her house, surrounded by garbage she was too afraid to take outside while the world stared at her in judgment. He refused to let that happen again, not while she was under his protection.
By the time they finished and she was settled in the rear office with a stack of orders that needed fulfilling, his anger was at the boiling point. He marched back into the processing room and straight toward Mario and Vitale. "You will be friendly and polite to Louisa," he growled. "Is that clear?"
Both men nodded rapidly. He never raised his voice unless trying to yell over the machinery. "Good. You let the rest of the company know, as well. If I hear of anyone showing her disrespect, they will answer to me personally."
The people of Monte Calanetti would warm up to Louisa, even if he had to make them.
CHAPTER FIVE
"I DON'T BELIEVE IT. You really are working here."
Louisa froze in her chair at the sight of Marianna, Nico's sister, standing in the doorway wearing a decidedly vexed expression. "When Dani told me, I thought she was joking," she said.
Dani worked fast. Louisa had only called her best friend a few hours ago. Clearly the youngest Amatucci had rushed right over the second she got the news.
"It's only a temporary arrangement," she said. She managed to keep the defensiveness out of her voice, Barely. "I'm helping with order fulfillment."
The brunette waved away the answer as she stepped into the room. Being in her third trimester, her pregnant belly entered a full step before her. "He better not be making you work for a free dinner the way he used to make me. I don't care how wonderful a chef Rafe is, he's not as good as euros in your pocket."
She wanted Louisa to get paid? That was her concern? Louisa didn't know what to say. "You mean you don't mind my being here?"
"Why should I?" She eased herself into a nearby chair with a sigh. "Oh," she said seeing Louisa's expression. "You mean because the press said you two were dating."
"Among other things."
Again, the woman waved her off. "Who believes anything the newspapers say? Are those wine orders?" She motioned to a spreadsheet of names and addresses on the desk.
"Yesterday's telephone orders." Louisa grabbed the change of topic with more gratitude than she thought possible. "I haven't printed out the internet orders yet."
"Wow, Nico wasn't kidding when he said the business was doing well."
No, he wasn't. Wine vendors, restaurants, tourists-everyone was eager to stock Amatucci Red. "No surprise," Nico had remarked, winking in her direction. "Once they have a taste, they want more."
Louisa had poured herself a glass before bed last night, and it was as delicious as she remembered. When it had been a lingering flavor in Nico's kiss, she recalled with a shiver. Between the wine and yesterday's embrace, it was no wonder she'd dreamt of him all night.
Once they have a taste, they want more.
"At this rate he won't have much stock left for the harvest festival," Marianna said, dragging Louisa back to the conversation at hand. "Unless he bottles more."