These Tangled Vines(62)

“Stay . . . ?”

“Yes.” His eyes shone brightly in the glow of the moonlight from the window. “When Freddie comes back, tell him that we love each other and that you want a divorce. You can move into the villa with me.”

The weight of those words shook Lillian to her core. “Move in with you? Anton, it’s barely been half a summer.”

“It doesn’t matter. I’m certain about this. You’re the woman I was born to love.” He kissed her fiercely, passionately, leaving her burning with desire.

Lillian began to weep softly, her tears staining the pillow.

“You’re the only woman I want,” he said, “for the rest of my life.”

Her heart broke wide open, and she wept with a strange mixture of joy and misery.

“It’s not that simple,” she said. “Freddie has no idea what’s been happening since he left. I can’t just ask him for a divorce out of the blue. He’ll be completely blindsided. It would devastate him, and despite his faults, he doesn’t deserve that.”

Anton wiped away her tears and gave her a moment to collect herself.

“I love you,” she said, “but I do care for him, and I can’t be heartless.”

They lay quietly in the darkness, holding each other while Lillian felt the weight of the world on her shoulders. She buried her face in her hands. “I don’t know what to do.”



In August, the grapes grew plump and sweet and began to change color from bright green to deep purple. Lillian accompanied Anton and Domenico into a vineyard one afternoon to assess the mildew situation.

“Look here,” Domenico said. “The leaves are lush and beautiful, but they’re creating too much shade and trapping moisture on the grapes. That’s a recipe for rot, so we must do more pruning here. And it’s time to cover these vines with bird nets.” He pointed at the sky. “We must prevent those hungry flocks from helping themselves to the Syrah.”

He spoke more about how they must keep a close eye on the grapes each day to determine the best time to begin the harvest.

When they finished their inspection of the field, the sun was high in the sky, and it was time for a rest. Domenico headed back to his little villa to enjoy lunch and a nap with Caterina.

“How about a swim?” Anton suggested as soon as they were alone behind a tractor at the edge of the vineyard. He backed her up against the big rubber tire and slid his arms around her waist.

“That sounds wonderful. I have until the three o’clock tour. Let’s meet at the pool in five minutes. I just need to change into my bathing suit.”

There was a dreamy intimacy to his kiss, and she didn’t want it to end.

Eventually, they parted and emerged discreetly from behind the big tractor to walk away in opposite directions.

Strolling along the shady, forested lane toward her guest suite, Lillian touched her fingertips to her lips and felt her cheeks flush at the memory of Anton’s kiss. She couldn’t believe her life. She had never felt so happy and alive yet so conflicted at the same time. She didn’t want to hurt Freddie, but she wanted desperately to leap into an unknown future and remain in Tuscany forever, with Anton. It seemed so sudden. It frightened her. What if this was just a mad, impulsive infatuation or temporary insanity brought on by nothing more than an intense sexual attraction?

She reached the apartment, flew up the stone steps, and inserted the key into the lock. Sunlight spilled across the terra-cotta tiled floor as she pushed the door open. She smiled and wondered where she’d put her bikini after her last swim. Was it hanging in the shower, or had she placed it in the drawer in her bedroom?

She stopped dead on the threshold, however, when she looked up and saw Freddie sitting at the kitchen table, eating a sandwich.

She stood there, blank, stunned, and shaken. “Freddie . . . you’re back.”

He gulped down a mouthful. “Hey!” He wiped his face with a napkin and stood. “I didn’t expect you until later. I wanted to surprise you. Happy to see me?” he asked as he approached her.

Lillian stumbled forward slightly as he pulled her into his arms and hugged her. “Of course.”

Freddie held her away from him, at arm’s length, dipping briefly at the knees. He laughed uneasily. “You don’t look happy. You look like a deer caught in the headlights.”

Hastily, Lillian pasted on a smile. “I’m sorry. I’m just in shock, that’s all. And maybe a little sunstroke. You didn’t call. I would have picked you up at the train station. But this is wonderful. I’m so happy to see you.”

He took a few steps back and held out both hands. “Look at you ! You’re so tanned! Have they got you working in the fields now?” There was humor in his voice.

“Well, yes, actually . . .” She was about to explain about the careful pruning she’d been doing lately and tell him how she’d been learning about soil content, hydration, and fermentation, but Freddie turned away and reached for his backpack on the floor.

“Guess what’s in here.” He picked it up and held it aloft.

Lillian wondered if it was a gift for her from Paris, but he answered his own question before she could guess.

“My manuscript.” His eyes glimmered with pride. “I finished it, Lil.”

His words hit her like a gust of wind, knocking her a step backward. “Seriously?”