“This won’t hurt you. Only me.”

“If it’s only you,” she said facetiously.

“How is my Italian? Really.”

She was relieved at the question. “Bene. It’s good. You have a remarkable vocabulary.”

“I can remember words. It’s the pronunciation I don’t think is very good. I still have a little trouble rolling my Rs the way Italians do.”

“Most English speakers do. I couldn’t roll my Rs at all my first year here. Then I met an American woman with flawless Italian. I told her that I couldn’t roll my Rs and she said, Honey, speaking Italian is like kissing. It’s not so much what you do with your tongue as how you hold your mouth. Then she taught me this trick. Before I knew it I could say, arrrrrrrrrrrrrivederci.”

“Now you’re showing off.”

“Want to learn how?”

“Certo.”

She put down her brush and came out from behind her easel to sit down next to Ross. “Okay, repeat after me. Bitter. Batter. Butter.”

“Bitter. Batter. Butter.”

“Now smile when you say it and hold the first vowel, like this,” she said, sticking her lips out in exaggeration. “Beeeter, baaater, booooter.”

“Do I have to look dumb like that when I say it?”

“Yep, just like that. Now you try it.”

“Beeeter, baaater, booooter.”

“Good. Now your mouth is in the right position to roll the R. In fact it’s almost automatic.”

“Beeeterrr, baaaterrr, booooterrr.”

“Stick your lips out more on the R.”

“Beeeterrrr, baaaterrrr, booooterrrr.”

“No, you need to stick them out more. Like you’re kissing.”

“Beeeterrrr, baaaterrrr, booooterrrr.”

“Like this.” She put her hand on Ross’s face and squeezed his cheeks together until his lips were pursed. “Now try it.”

“Beeeter, baaater, booooter.”

She released her hand. “Come on, Ross, don’t you know how to kiss?”

“Let me try.” At this Ross leaned forward and kissed her. She froze and closed her eyes as the warmth of his mouth melted into hers. He slowly drew back from her and her eyes were locked on his, in surprise and awe. She felt a little breathless.

His voice was low. “I’m a little rusty. Was that all right?”

She swallowed. “Not bad.”

There was a light rap on the open door.

They both looked over. Luca, the winery manager, stood in the doorway. He looked back and forth between the two of them. “Excuse me, Signora Ferrini, I saw your light on. I didn’t want to wake Alessio.”

Eliana was suddenly pale. “What do you need, Luca?”

“I brought the menu for the vendemmia feast for your approval.”

“Of course. Just set it right there. I’ll look over it in the morning.”

“Very good.” He set the paper on a shelf and looked at Ross again. “Sorry to disturb you. Good night.” He walked off.

When the door shut, Eliana groaned, briefly covering her eyes with her hand. “I didn’t see him standing there. Do you think he saw that?”

“I don’t know. I’m sorry.”

She looked down for a moment. “It’s okay. It didn’t mean anything.”