Free Saved by the CEO by Barbara Wallace Page A

stainless-steel and concrete surroundings. “So no grape stomping at all, then?” Louisa asked as she followed him down the stairs and onto the plant floor.
    “Only at the harvest festival.”
    Ahead, they caught the flash of a pale blue work shirt near one of the machines. “Vitale,” Nico called out. “Is that you?”
    A silver head appeared. “Yes, signor . I was replacing the timer belt.” Just like Mario had, the man avoided looking in her direction. “You were right, signor ,” he said. “It had worn thin. We shouldn’t have any more problems.”
    “Good. Good. Vitale, I’d like you to meet Louisa.” Once again, Nico forced an introduction, and again Louisa was acknowledged with a nervous smile and a nod before Nico offered Vitale an excuse to leave.
    “Give them time,” Nico told her when she started to comment. “They’ll warm up to you.”
    Sure they will , she thought with a sigh. “People are going to believe what they want to believe, Nico.” Sometimes even when the truth was right in front of them—the way she had with Steven. “And in this case, the headlines have had way too big a head start.”
    “Headlines be damned. Once they get to know you, they’ll realize what is written in the papers is garbage. In a few weeks no one in Monte Calanetti will even care about Luscious Louisa.”
    “From your lips...”
    While they were talking, he’d moved closer, narrowing the space between them until he stood no more than a foot away. Close enough she could see the dark hair peering out from the open collar of his shirt and smell the spicy citrus of his aftershave. “Louisa,” he said, his gentle voice sounding as though he were stating the simplest of truths. “It doesn’t take a rocket scientist to see the truth about a person.”
    “Don’t be so sure. There’s an entire town back in Massachusetts that could prove you wrong.”
    Nico chuckled. Despite the gap between them, his fingers had somehow found their way into her hair and were combing the strands away from her face. “You’re being dramatic, bella mia . I’m sure your true friends knew better.”
    “They might have, if I’d had any.”
    “What are you talking about?”
    “Nothing.” Distracted by his touch, she’d opened a door she hadn’t meant to open. “Like you said, I’m being dramatic.”
    He didn’t believe her, but Louisa didn’t care. She’d revealed enough secrets for one day.
    “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