Saved by the CEO(13)

"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."