Decadent. Alexx Andria

your refusal to listen. The answer is an emphatic no.”

      I carefully lifted the wineglass to my lips to savor the full-bodied red, rolling it around on my tongue for a brief second before agreeing that the wine was superb. However, I said, “You think highly of your product but perhaps you overestimate its appeal. While Castello di Baroni may have been a favorite of the royals for a time, it is my understanding that Antinori Tignanello has been the most recent royal favorite as of late.”

      She laughed. “You imply that we have fallen out of favor? Nonsense. Our labels remain on the aristocratic preferred list. Truly, is that your big play? To prey upon our vanity?” Alessandra tsked as if disappointed. “I had thought that someone of your business acumen would bring more of a challenge. I see I was wrong.” She rose, looking the picture of fire and grace in all of her petite stature. “Please enjoy your glass. Before you leave, perhaps you’d like to visit our gift shop to bring home a lovely bottle for your beloved father as he loves our wine so much.”

      Alessandra left me in the great hall of the historic castle to attend to business more pressing than mine. Not by accident, I was given a knuckle-biting view of her near-perfect heart-shaped ass as she exited the room. The woman was sharp and cunning, which was an intriguing and welcome surprise.

      Clearly, my father had underestimated Alessandra Baroni when he’d sent me to a castle in the middle of Tuscany to retrieve his latest interest.

      I took the time to enjoy the wine while I surveyed the rough-hewn yet solid craftsmanship of the great room, silently appreciating that it’d stood the test of time this long.

      The financial burden of the castle’s and vineyard’s upkeep was probably substantial. It didn’t seem as if the Baroni family was struggling to keep the lights on. The keep was well-maintained and there didn’t seem any overt signs of financial distress, which would explain why Alessandra hadn’t blinked an eye at the ridiculous sum of money my father was prepared to offer for this place.

      So, if money wasn’t the carrot I needed to dangle in front of her…what bait could I use to entice her to take the offer?

      I needed to do more research. I’d broken my own cardinal rule: never come to a negotiation without knowing everything about your opponent.

      I’d wrongly assumed that I could persuade Alessandra with a little charm and a lot of money.

      I rubbed my chin. A man would have to be blind to miss how stunning she was but I saw no ring on her finger. Even the prettiest face and hottest body was no match for a sharp-tongued woman. My interest in being nagged at for the rest of my life was dimmer than a dying bulb, but most men weren’t as smart as me. My brothers, for example, had already lost the battle when they’d married, ceding defeat with smiles on their faces. That wasn’t going to be my fate. But I did find it interesting that Alessandra remained unspoken for in a country that still observed a definite edge in favor of the men. The battles she must face on an everyday basis… I mused with reluctant fascination.

      Which is likely why she shut me down so quickly and without batting an eye. I grinned in spite of my embarrassing fail. Talk about an inglorious smackdown of epic proportions.

      No worries. I welcomed the challenge. It’d been a long time since I’d felt useful or needed. My older brother, Luca, had the family business, Donato Inc., well in hand, which left me to trot after him, suffocating in his shadow.

      Father had given me this opportunity to bring home something of great personal value to the Donato family and I wouldn’t fail.

       Alessandra…get ready to see what tangling with the Donato family will get you.

      I chuckled as I exited the great hall.

      She was going to wish she’d taken the offer.

       CHAPTER TWO

      Alessandra

      THE NERVE OF AMERICANS.

      Dante Donato reeked of arrogance like a smoking jacket smelled of cigar smoke. Of all the offers thrown our way to purchase the winery and its operations, none had been as condescending as Donato’s.

      He thought he could walk into my house, smugly throw down a wad of cash and walk away with my family’s legacy as easily as shipping a case of wine.

      I smirked at the raw audacity. He had balls, I would give him that.

      Handsome as the devil, too. Hair as dark as sin and eyes that sparkled like the ocean after a hard rain, he was built with all the thick swagger of his Italian ancestors but he carried the height of a Viking. Although I stood only to his chest level, he did not intimidate me. I’d faced off with worse than Donato men and I was still here.

      It was too bad Dante was such a prick. I think I would have enjoyed him in my bed. It’d been a while since I’d taken a lover and by the looks of him, Dante could satisfy the appetite growling inside me. I sighed with disappointment and a little frustration as I headed for the business office.

      In the past I’d invited Como to my bed but I’d stopped when I realized he had difficulties separating feelings from simply satisfying each other’s needs.

      And we worked together, so that further complicated matters that I didn’t need right now. So much was riding on our newest Chianti, Uva Persa, that I didn’t have time to entertain distractions of any kind.

      Made from tenerone grapes, a lost variety that had only recently been brought back from oblivion, lovingly and carefully cultivated from ancient vineyards, Uva Persa was my baby, my triumph, and I couldn’t allow anything to stand in the way of my success.

      I was funneling every dime I personally had into the launch of this wine but it was much more than simply a new venture. I was taking a huge chance, risking not only my personal finances but also my family’s reputation as classic vintners with a name that went back for generations.

      Our wines remained under the Chianti Classico label, adhering to the strict criteria that 80 percent of the blend was from Sangiovese grapes—though I was one of the more vocal advocates for expanding the criteria—but sales were static and barely holding steady.

      That would all change as soon as I launched Uva Persa.

      But innovation came slowly, particularly with the old guard. When I’d first broached the subject of purchasing land to plant the tenerone grapes, my father, Sergio, had shut the idea down quickly.

      “It’s a risk we don’t need to take,” he’d said, rubbing chopped garlic on his bread before dipping it in the fragrant olive oil. “There’s no need. The Classico Riserva remains strong. We should stick to what we know, safer that way. Why take risks when we don’t have to?”

      “But, Papa, the future is in the lost grapes. Resurrecting the ancient varietals will give us that edge we need in the coming market,” I’d insisted, frustrated by my father’s lack of vision. “Please, one small investment is all I’m asking for. The Castello di Baroni brand can withstand the hit but we need to make the leap now. I have the opportunity to purchase—”

      “No.”

      “Papa! You are being stubborn and pigheaded! I’m looking toward the future of Castello di Baroni and you’re content to live day to day. That’s not how to sustain a business in this new market. It’s not like it was when you were young. Please trust me in this and let me make the purchase.”

      My father dusted his hands on the linen napkin, shaking his head, not willing to budge.

      We argued for hours but he’d only dug his heels in harder. I wasn’t going to convince Sergio Baroni to change his mind, and at the time I couldn’t make the purchase without my father’s approval.

      If it hadn’t been for my nonno, I might not have taken the chance.

      With my grandfather’s help, I’d