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Still feeling the tingles on my skin from when we touched, it’s best to keep the conversation strictly related to business.
He looks at me before looking back at the sun setting over the lake. “We’re looking to expand on an international market. We dominate the local one, quite frankly.”
“Dominate.” I raise an eyebrow. “That’s quite the word choice.”
“It’s the truth. There are a few rival wine producers in the region, but by far, ours is the best.”
“I’m quite aware of wines themselves, but I’d love to know more about the business side of—”
A noise comes from behind us, making us turn.
A tall man makes his way to us, stumbling forward.
“Having a party without me, Enzo?” he slurs as his eyes land on the two of us.
Who is this man?
This does not look good.
2
ENZO
SilvanoSalvatorestumblestowardus, his steps unsteady and the stench of alcohol wafting off his breath.
He grins at me.
Quinn looks at the both of us in turn, her expression uncertain, and I’m annoyed at our little moment alone being eclipsed by this uninvited and unwelcome arrival.
Someone fucked up, and they’ll answer for it.
“What do you want, Silvano?” I grit my teeth, trying to maintain my composure in front of the crowd.
His gaze travels over to Quinn. “And who might this be?”
His apparent interest is not a surprise to me. I had a similar reaction the moment I spotted her alone in the crowd of people.
What does surprise me is the instant urge to knock that sleazy smile right off his face.
“Quinn.” She smiles politely but I can sense the hesitation in her tone.
Silvano’s tall frame towers over her, and she shrinks herself.
A surge of unexpected protectiveness washes over me, and I step in between the two as a shield.
“Do you plan on leaving yourself or shall I do the honors of calling my security to do the job?” I snarl, my tone low and dangerous.
Silvano barks a laugh, “Oh, Enzo. First y-you forget to invite me to your little rendezvous, and now you’re t-threatening to kick me out? That, too, in front of this beautiful lady? Quinn, right?”
Quinn’s posture stiffens beside me, her gaze darting around as Silvano’s drunken monologue drags on. She did not sign up for this.
“Keep her name out of your damned mouth.” I tower over him.
For all his efforts to appear threatening, he only manages to seem clumsy in comparison.
Silvano is hardly phased, though. He stumbles over to the table full of samples nearby, grabbing himself a drink before gulping it down sloppily. His intent is crystal clear: he wants to embarrass me by causing a scene.
But I’m not about to fall into his trap so easily.