Never go on trips with anyone you do not love.

-Ernest Hemingway

Francesca Marcolini's POV

"What are you doing here?" I stopped dead in front of the building of my penthouse apartment when I saw the familiar figure leaning casually on the door of his Ferrari early this morning.

"To pick you up." He said casually. As he smiled evilly in my direction, his eyes were concealed by a pair of black aviator sunglasses to match his devilishly dark looks.

"Where are we going?" I asked coldly, fighting off the blush that wanted to spread through my cheeks. "I know we have no appointment today."

Marco Orsini grinned wickedly as if reading my thoughts. He looked more of a devil biker today than a businessman with his white t-shirt that hugged his sexy body with a dark leather jacket and dark jeans.

This devil who wanted to claim my soul.

I grimaced. Where the heck did that maddening thought came from? This man—this Marco Orsini, however gorgeous he was with his attire today, will not claim anything from me.

You already let him kiss you last night. The voice inside my head had whispered harshly. Fine, so I did let him kiss me right now and that blasted kiss kept me awake all night wondering how on earth I've permitted him to take liberties on my mouth.

Even though I should be thinking about my husband's cruel betrayal to me last night, Marco Orsini's kiss kept entering my mind.

"All you need to do is ask."

My gaze was snapped back to him dragging me out of my reverie. "Pardon?"

"All you need to do is ask, tesoro." He repeated as he opened the passenger's door of his Ferrari. "If you want another kiss from me. I will be glad to give you any time, Francesca mia."

"When hell freezes over, Signore," I replied vehemently. "Last night was only a moment of insanity on my part."

He barked a laugh. "Oh, if that's the case. I intend for you to have your moment of insanity always. I like the result of it." His eyes were obscured by the pair of aviator sunglasses. It's hard to guess what he was thinking right now. "Get in." He commanded arrogantly.

"I will go not anywhere with you, Signore."

A frown marked on his eyebrows. "Are we back on the 'signore' thing again? I thought we were going to have a first name basis now."

"As I said, I was not myself last night," I answered hesitantly, even though his eyes were hidden from my view I knew that they were busy studying me intently. "I assure you that it will never happen again, Signore."

He smiled wolfishly as if taking my reply as a challenge. "Oh, I wouldn't be sure if I were you, my dear. Because I intend to drag my first name out from your lovely lips before this day will end."

"We'll see about that." I glared at the hidden eyes from my view.

"Get in." He said again.

"I'm sorry," I told him frostily. The faster I can get away from him the better. I don't want him near me. "I have another appointment today, Signore Orsini."

I need to see the real estate agent I contacted last night. I want a new house. I don't want the penthouse I've been living in for the past seven years, which happened to be owned by my hus—Lorenzo. I don't want to stay there thinking over his hurtful betrayals every time I am at home.

"Get in." He warned, clearly fighting his temper in check. "Or I will personally deposit you in this chair."

My eyes widened at the bold statement. "You wouldn't do that."

"Try me."

"But—"

"One." He started to count.

"I have—"

"Two."

"Oh, you..." I let an angry sigh as I reluctantly slid on the expensive leather of his car.

"Three." He finished his counting with a deadly satisfaction in his voice as he closed the door behind me.

"Where are we going?" I asked irately as he slid into the car and started the engine. He let it growl a few times before joining the traffic highway of Rome.

"It's a surprise." He said his gaze was fixed on the road. "You will love it."

I snorted and just let my gazed fix in my window.

I don't know what madness had appeared to me that I bother to check how my nemesis is after the bomb she knew about her adored husband. My conscience kept me awake last night thinking that I should never show her the report just to satisfy my ego. I twitched with a smile. Who would have thought that I, Marco Orsini, have a conscience? I smugly believed that I was a heartless playboy as society dubbed me to be.

I decided to make sure she's fine the first thing this morning before I visit my grandparents at their vineyard. But I was stunned to see her as glamorous as ever when the concierge opened the glass door for her—very different from the distraught woman who cried in my arms last night like a lost child.

As if nothing happened last night.

But the first thing I noticed when finally she became aware of my presence and moved closer to where I've been waiting was that her wedding ring was noticeably missing in her left hand. I don't know why my heart soared when I saw that she no longer wore her wedding band.

My impromptu decision to bring her with me to my grandparent's vineyard was still a mystery to me.

Because I'm just worried about her, I thought silently. Yes, that's it. I am just worried about her after the truth she learned about her husband has nothing to do with the fact that I wanted to monopolize her time. I snorted, that's absurd. I don't want to monopolize Francesca Marcolini.

Are you sure that you are just worried about her? Because you also took the risk about your nonna's expectation now that you brought home a woman as you never did before in your thirty-one years of existence. A devilish voice inside my head said which I only pointedly ignore.

"Aren't you going to talk to me again?" I asked as I glanced briefly in her direction. We were nearing the vineyard and yet she hasn't said a word to me again after she asked where we were going in front of her penthouse building. I can't believe that there's a woman who hated my company.

"I'm busy." She replied frostily, her gaze was still fixed on her window.

I frowned. "Busy? With what?"

"Praying." She glared at me. She's quite pale, actually. "I'm busy praying that we'll arrive safely."

I couldn't help but laugh. "I assure you, I'm a competent driver, Francesca."

"Do you always drive like this?"

"Like what?" I asked innocently.

"Like the demons of hell are after you."

I laughed again as I adjusted the speed of my Ferrari. "Happy?"

"Not really." She muttered softly. She now fixed her eyes in front, not on her window anymore.

I smiled when I saw that we finally arrived. I parked my car at the front of the sprawling mansion that stood proudly for centuries. "We're here. Welcome to Orsini vineyard."

"What the..." She murmured as she removed her seatbelt and slid out of the car gracefully. "Why didn't you tell me that we're going here?"

"It's a surprise, right?" I answered while guiding her on the marble steps in the foyer. "Come."

I led her through the grand staircase up to the library where my grandparents spent their morning. I knocked at the wooden double door before entering with the overwhelmed Francesca.

"Marco!" My nonna walked briskly towards me and hugged me tightly. For a petite woman like her, her grip was quite strong. "I'm so glad you came for a visit. How are you? Last time you came here you didn't bother to see your nonna before you left I plan to introduce you to my—"

"Nonna." I cut her off as I drew forward the woman hiding behind my back. "I brought someone with me. Nonna, this is Francesca Marcolini. Francesca, this is my grandmother, Claudia Orsini."

"It's a pleasure to meet you, Signora," Francesca said shyly.

My Nonna seemed to be stunned for a moment probably thinking that she was hallucinating Francesca because never have I introduced a woman to her, ever. But then she finally recovered from her shock and smiled too delightedly in my direction.

"Oh! I'm so happy that this day has finally come." Claudia Orsini announced with joyful tears shimmering in her eyes. "Please. Please call me nonna, Francesca. I so badly want to have a granddaughter of my own. Alfonso, dear. Come and meet Marco's special friend."

I frowned. I knew it. Nonna got the wrong impression about my association with Francesca. It was on the tip of my tongue to correct my grandmother when Nonno stood from his table and moved next to his wife.

"Welcome to our humble home, my dear." My grandfather said to Francesca with an obvious soaring pride probably thinking that Francesca Marcolini was my choice of bride. I am starting to regret my impromptu decision in bringing her here. "I hope you will like it here."

Was that the subtle way of saying, 'you will be the mistress of this house once you married Marco'?

"Come," Nonna pulled Francesca to the table where tea and scones were waiting. "Let's have tea."

Francesca who remained silent until this moment briefly glanced in my direction before she let my grandmother pull her on the settee. Alfonso Orsini patted me on the shoulder with an obvious smile on his formidable face.

"It's not what you think," I murmured before joining the woman in their tea.

"So how long have you known each other?" My grandmother fired the question as soon as she finished pouring everyone's teacup. "When do you plan the wedding? I think it's better to be grand with at least five hundred guests in attendance."

Francesca nearly spilled out her tea. "Oh, you must be mistaken, Signora..."

"Nonna, dear." My grandmother reminded her thoughtfully.

"Er, nonna." Francesca blushed slightly as she obeyed the older woman's request. "I am not Marco's...well it's not what you think."

"It is not?"

"No." She shook her head. "I work for him."

"Oh, forgive me for my misconception then," Nonna said regally but I knew deep down she's still dubious about our association given the blushes that spread through her pale face. I bet she's still remembering what happened last night.

I shifted in my seat as I remembered having the longest shower of my life.

"Marco," Nonna said directly to me for the first time. "Why don't you show Francesca the vineyard?"

I placed down my teacup and stood as I offered my hand. "Come, Francesca. I will give you a tour in the vineyard."

"Yes. I'd love that." She smiled hesitantly before taking my offered hand. Her amber eyes seemed to be telling me You-Have-To-Explain-This-To-Me look.

Uh-oh. It's appeared that I landed myself in trouble here.