Love in the Vineyard (Tavonesi #7)(82)



Choice.

“I didn’t offer Natasha a choice. I made a mistake. A big mistake. I may have already lost her.”

“Love often provides second chances. If it didn’t, I’d never have won your mother.” He leaned his hip against the desk and nailed Adrian with a sober gaze. “I have a concern greater than any of this, Adrian, one your mother shared. As I said, I admire what you’re doing here. But I fear that you’ve set a trap for yourself. Your mother worried that you have a deep sense of guilt regarding your privilege—and I believe she was right. This misplaced sense of guilt keeps you from enjoying your life. From reaching out for what might make you happy.”

“I did nothing to deserve my fortune.” Adrian swept his arm out into the room. “Or to deserve this. Any of this.”

But his father’s words struck deep.

Santino scrubbed a hand along his chin. “Do you think people do things—work and strive and so forth—to deserve the original circumstances of their lives? How would that be possible unless we all lived former lives, which I don’t believe in? But one aspect of living that every person on this planet shares is the choice of how to live in the face of events that life throws in our paths. Everyone has to ask the same question—What can be made of the cards that I’ve been dealt?”

Adrian paced, listening. It’d been a long time since he and his father had spoken like this. Since before they’d moved from Rome. Before Adrian’s mother had passed away.

“And no matter how clear you are in your thinking, son, some situations are literally out of your hands. Life has its mysteries, its own course. Sometimes you have to surrender to the power and to those mysteries.”

“Surrender…,” Adrian repeated, remembering his words to Natasha while they were making love.

“Yes, well, there’s a positive side to the shadow world, though sometimes we don’t want to look at that either, to examine the good parts of ourselves that we’ve cut off. Your mother was the greatest balance for me, as I was for her. When she died, I lost my way. I can only be grateful that you and your siblings have forgiven me for my foolhardiness.” He lifted his shoulder in a half shrug. “For landing you here.”

Adrian’s gut clenched. Had he been blinded by his sense of guilt? By his drive to control the world? “Maybe we needed to come here. Maybe I was meant to meet Natasha. Maybe our destinies required it.”

As Adrian said the words, he wished in his heart they were true. Maybe his father was right—maybe he had been cutting himself off from happiness, reaching for it but not allowing himself to keep it firmly in his grasp.

“It’s rather late in the night to start that discussion,” Santino said. “Destiny will have to wait until tomorrow.”





Chapter Twenty-Five



FIRST THING THE NEXT MORNING, ADRIAN drove to Enrique’s. His anger hadn’t dissolved even as his plan took shape in the night. He’d wrestled hard with his impulse to engage his father’s team and get more dirt on Eddie Markiston. To shut the guy down and punish him for what he’d done to Natasha—what he was doing to her now. Enrique was the least of his worries.

He told an increasingly astonished Enrique that not only were the Tavonesis not going to prosecute him but that he had a new job, a promotion, and a future at the vineyard. But when Adrian followed those announcements with the news that the Tavonesis were going to pay for Enrique’s grandmother’s medical treatments, the tears the man had shed had washed into Adrian’s soul.

Adrian hadn’t forgotten his father’s cautions. But deep in his gut he knew he’d done the right thing.

And yet, as he drove to Natasha’s, his certainty wavered. Teasing out his underlying motivations regarding her had kept him tossing in the night. And when he had slept, fitful dreams had him waking in a cold sweat. Destiny was one hell of a taskmaster.

He wanted Natasha in his life. He wanted to marry her and wake up every morning with her beside him. He wanted to be the best stepfather he could be for Tyler. But he wanted Natasha to choose a future with him, from a place of freedom and confidence, not be forced by need or circumstance. A woman like Natasha could have any man in the world. Maybe she didn’t know it yet, but she would. And he’d wait. Wait until she had her feet under her. Until the mess with Eddie was behind her and manageable. Until she could see from the growth of the native garden business that she had talent and skills that couldn’t be learned from a book. Until… Hell, he’d just wait.

Natasha answered her door dressed in her work jeans and a white shirt. Maybe the same shirt he’d stripped from her shoulders in the wine cave. But the immediate want that rushed in him was dammed when he looked into her eyes. Rimmed with red, they announced that she’d been crying. It tortured him to know that the news he bore could bring more anguish.

“May I come in?”

She brushed a strand of hair from her face and nodded as she stepped back into her small hallway. He wanted to take her face in his palms and kiss her until she smiled. But even that would have to wait for another day.

“‘I’m glad you came,” she said with a wan smile. “I wanted to tell you not to worry—things are better with Eddie. He came by yesterday. Spent some time with Tyler. We didn’t tell Tyler who he was, of course. It’s much too early.”

Pamela Aares's Books