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The Man, The Ring, The Wedding. Patricia ThayerЧитать онлайн книгу.

The Man, The Ring, The Wedding - Patricia  Thayer


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raised her gaze to meet his, and soon the dark depths began to mesmerize her. She glanced away. “It’s just a suggestion.”

      John Rossi finally spoke. “Do you think you could write up a proposal for me?”

      She swallowed back her excitement and nodded.

      He smiled then, too. “I guess your coming by the hotel early was a good idea.”

      Angelina froze at the mention of her earlier visit.

      “When was this?” Rafe asked.

      “Your sister stopped by yesterday afternoon. I think she must have gotten her days confused, that’s all.”

      John watched Rafe tense. Strange, they were all equal partners in the family business, but the men seemed also fiercely protective of their sister. Was a real family like this? Was this what he wanted to find out when he decided to come here? That the Covellis were a warm loving family?

      How would John recognize a loving family? After his parents had died in an auto accident when he was ten years old, he had gone to live with his paternal grandparents. His grandfather had been obsessive about building the family business. His grandmother, a cold woman who busied herself with society functions, had ignored the little boy under her care.

      John had looked forward to summers with his mother’s parents at their vineyard in Italy. However, even though both Nonno Giovanni and Nonna Lia had showered him with attention and love, he’d never once seen them exchange a kind word, or a loving touch. John’s ideas about love between a man and a woman had been formed at an early age, and he had never believed a permanent loving relationship was possible.

      He looked across the table at Angelina. His gaze locked on her shimmering blue eyes, then lowered to her luscious mouth. A mouth that made him ache. His body took notice, too, reminding him that he’d been without the company of a woman for a long time. He glanced away, suddenly needing to go outside for some fresh air to clear his head.

      Just then, an older woman came walking toward them. Small in stature, she was wearing a black dress and her snowy-white hair was pulled back from her face. It dawned on him who she was—the grandmother, Vittoria Covelli.

      When she reached the table, John immediately stood. The Covelli men did the same.

      “Nonna,” Rafe said and kissed both her cheeks. “We were wondering where you were.”

      She smiled. “I was in the kitchen as always, preparing the food.” Then she turned her attention to John. “And who is this nice young man?”

      John held out his hand and grasped hers. “I’m John Rossi, signora. I’m in Haven Springs on business.”

      She eyed him closely. “Nice to meet you, Giovanni,” she said, using the Italian version of his name. “What part of Italy are your people from?”

      John swallowed. “My father’s family was from Rome,” he answered. “Then, years ago they came to America, to New York.”

      Vittoria smiled brightly. “I came to America over fifty years ago... for love. I hope you are able to get back to Italy often.” She looked sad. “Sometimes I miss the old places and the old ways.”

      Angelina spoke up. “You should let us send you to Tuscany for a visit.”

      Vittoria waved a hand. “Everyone I know is probably dead and gone. No one remembers me.”

      “You might be surprised,” John found himself saying. “More than likely there’s a cousin or two still around.”

      “Maybe there is.” She cocked her head to the side. “You seem so familiar ... something about your eyes...”

      John masked his discomfort. He turned on his best smile. “Could be I’m one of your long-lost cousins.”

      Vittoria laughed and patted his hand. “You are a charming young man, Signore Rossi. We will be your famiglia while you are here.”

      John felt a tightening in his chest as he nodded.

      “You have fed me like family,” he said. “And I want to thank you all for the lovely lunch. Grazie.”

      “You’re welcome,” Rick said, shaking his hand.

      “And I should get back to the hotel. I have work to finish,” John said, as everyone seemed to crowd around him.

      “Where are you staying?” Rafe asked. “So many places are closed around here during the off-season.”

      “Just outside of town at the Lone Pine Motor Lodge.”

      Rafe frowned. “It’s more like the Lonely Pine Motor Lodge. There probably isn’t another soul around. Besides, it’s nearly twenty minutes away.” The eldest Covelli sibling smiled. “Hey, why not stay in town? We have a vacant apartment just down the street. Since I was married last month it’s been empty. It doesn’t have room service, but there’s a kitchenette and a big comfortable bed.”

      “And it’s close to everything,” Jill said, stopping by the table. “Only a few blocks from the hotel.”

      Angelina couldn’t help but notice John’s discomfort. Maybe he wasn’t going to give Covelli and Sons the hotel job, and he didn’t want to be indebted to them. No negative thoughts, she told herself. There wasn’t another company around more qualified or talented enough to handle the project. They needed this job. She needed this job.

      Angelina spoke up. “There are also two phone lines so you can hook up your computer and fax, and still have one free for incoming calls.”

      John looked thoughtful. “I can only take it if you’ll allow me a six-month lease.”

      “You’re staying that long?” Rafe asked.

      “No, just a month. I plan to be back in New York for the holidays. But my assistant, Mark, will replace me and he’ll fly down intermittently to check on the hotel’s progress. So unless you need a longer lease...”

      Rafe grinned. “Six months is fine, but you’re welcome to stay for as long as you need. And it’s ready now so you can move in anytime. I can have the key for you in an hour.”

      Vittoria spoke up. “And to welcome you here, I will make you something special to eat.”

      John Rossi blinked at the older woman’s kindness. “Grazie, signora.”

      One by one, the members of the family began to drift away, but Angelina hung back. “After a while you’ll get used to it,” she said. “They’re all a little pushy, but they’ll grow on you.”

      “You don’t need to go to all this trouble,” he said, his dark eyes sharp and assessing. “Covelli and Sons’ work will stand on its own.”

      Angelina took a deep breath, trying to control her sudden anger. How dare this man accuse her family of trying to buy the bid? That hurt, and she wasn’t going to let him go without knowing the truth.

      “I guess they do things differently in New York, but our hospitality is just that. We have no ulterior motive. We believe our work will speak for itself, Mr. Rossi. We’re just being neighborly, nothing more.”

      Angelina turned and marched off, praying she hadn’t blown Covelli and Sons’ chance of getting the hotel job. But, after seeing the surprised look on John Rossi’s face, she decided it was worth the risk.

      

      Later that day, John returned to his motel on the edge of town. Inside his room, he tossed his briefcase on the chair and went to the desk. He grabbed the file marked Covelli and opened it.

      He’d done his homework, but he’d still been blindsided when Angelina turned up early at the hotel. He hadn’t expected her, and he had desperately wanted to be prepared. One raven-haired woman with intriguing eyes and a sensual mouth had already distracted him, making him forget the reasons he’d come here.

      John


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