Scorned Heir: Chapter 22

“You’re taking me to a winery?” I straightened in my seat when he took the exit and I saw the sign.

“Best one near Boston,” he said. “They have outdoor seating. It’s a beautiful day.”

“It’s a gorgeous day.” I didn’t know why, but tears prickled my eyes. I sniffed.

His fingers tipped my chin up. “Hey.”

“Watch the road,” I mumbled.

The Jaguar idled at the crossroads before making a right turn.

“I am. What’s wrong, Sera?”

I exhaled heavily. “You always try to make things special.”

“Does that mean I’m forgiven for suggesting an elopement in Vegas?” There was humor in his voice, but uncertainty too.

“Yes. You rescinded the proposal anyway.”

“You did throw it in my face.”

I buckled up my emotions and shot him a watery smile. He grinned at me and I didn’t say anymore. Neither did he. But deep down inside butterfly wings were rioting.

Turning my attention to the bucolic setting, I marveled at the fields of grapes that surrounded us. When I lived in Napa, harvest was my favorite time of the year. The grapes would be heavy on the boughs, a beautiful landscape of green and purple. The whole valley would be electrified with excitement while anxious winemakers kept an eye on the weather, which might force them to gather the grapes before they reached full potential or risk losing the entire crop. Optimum stage for picking depended on taste, but some did rely on a backup method like the refractometer that would measure the grape sugar.

Tradition versus technology was something that always fascinated me.

Matteo parked the Jaguar in front of the vineyard’s restaurant. “Don’t move. I’ll come get you.”

I lowered the visor and quickly checked my face, grimacing at the splotchiness and my lack of makeup. When he opened the door, he held out his hand with a flourish. “My lady.”

“This is very romantic, Mr. De Lucci.” I accepted his hand and stepped out of the car. “But I’m not dressed for it.”

He closed the door and put both hands on my shoulders, giving them a squeeze. “You’re gorgeous. Don’t you know naked is the best look on you?”

I gave an eye roll as he laughingly kissed my forehead. “Come on. Let’s put some food in you.”

At the hostess podium, Matteo gave his name. Apparently, we already had reservations.

“So, who suggested this place?” I asked.

“Liz.”

“Oh, it’s really nice.”

“It’s harvest time. They’re usually crowded, but they had a lunch opening and it’s a weekday.”

The hostess led us into a backyard setting called the vintner’s knoll. There were picnic tables everywhere and I felt better in my jeans and sneakers.

After the woman left us, I gushed. “This is so perfect.”

“I thought it’s a good mix of casual and classy.”

“It is.”

“It’s mostly finger foods though. Food that goes with wine.”

“This is perfect, Matteo.”

A small smile played on his lips. “I’m glad. Now…”

“I knew it.” I grinned because I had a gut feeling of what he was up to.

“You rejected me earlier, but as you can tell, I don’t give up easily.”

“I know.”

“I apologize for how I threw out Vegas earlier”—he blew out a breath—“but—”

“That’s the oldest sibling syndrome.”

He arched a brow. “At any time during our relationship have I treated you like one of my siblings?”

“No, I’m just talking about your penchant for taking over.”

“I’m learning…and I’ve never forgotten what you told me the first time I took you home.”

I racked my brain. Finally it came to me and I giggled, but before I could repeat those words, Matteo beat me to it.

“You said, Next time do better.” He took my hand. “I’ll always do better for you, Sera, because better isn’t the best and I’ll always want the best for you.”

My mind scattered and I couldn’t think of the words to respond.

His eyes smoldered. “I don’t want to lie and say I love you because the word love doesn’t encompass everything I feel for you. Obsession doesn’t seem right either because it sounds selfish, like it’s all about me, and all about what I need.”

I continued staring at him.

“Say something,” he rasped. “Am I scaring you?”

“I’m not scared,” I whispered. “I’m anxious.”

His brows drew together. “Because we’re going too fast?”

“Yes.”

He looked past me and signaled with his finger, probably telling the server to come back later and not interrupt our conversation.

“Do you trust your feelings for me?”

“I think so.”

“Do you trust my feelings for you? That I care for you deeply? That we can learn love after marriage?”

“Matteo…” My breath hitched. “When I consigned myself to a fate of an arranged marriage, for my duty to family, I promised myself that I would learn to love my husband.”

He smiled. “Like St. Rita.”

I grinned back, happy that I didn’t have to explain the correlation. “Yes. But the truth is…with you? I don’t think it’s even a question that I will fall in love with you. After two weeks in Maine, I saw the promise of the husband you could become.” The back of my eyes stung.

“Then marry me,” he said fiercely. “I don’t have a ring. We don’t have time for that now. My family and yours will be waiting for us in New York. I don’t want our marriage to be influenced by our duty to them. I want you to be mine. Nico is on standby. Do you want to call Ivy to be our witness?”

“Oh my God.” My head was spinning. Things were happening too fast, but I was with Matteo. What we shared in the past two weeks shouldn’t be tainted by our duty to family. We had a chance to make it about us. About what we wanted.

“Because if not, Liz can take her place. But I know you want Ivy there.”

“I want her there,” I said quickly. “She’s busy, but it wouldn’t be right to do this without her.”

“I’m not sure if she and Nico can stand to be on the same plane.”

I huffed a laugh. “Probably not.”

“So, Sera Moretti, will you marry me?”

“Yes.”