The Man, The Ring, The Wedding

John nodded. He was impressed. Then his gaze fell on Angelina again and he couldn’t seem to focus. He shook his head. She was definitely a distraction. He forced himself to look away. “I guess we...uh, should get started.”

Rafe stepped up. “First I’d like to introduce our cousin, Tony Covelli. He’s our partner and financial advisor. And this is Charlie, our foreman. He has worked several years for us and is one of the best carpenters around. But I want to assure you that Rick and I will be on the job and do the majority of the renovation. We believe that if it has the Covelli name on it, then Covellis do the work.”

“That’s nice to know,” John said and turned his attention to Angelina. She was like the Tuscany sunrise coming over the hills. Hard to ignore. “What’s your job with the company?” he asked.

“I’ve run the office the past two years. On this job, if we get it, I’ll be the project manager.” Her eyes flashed a challenge. “Do you have a problem working with women?”

So she planned on being around. “Not at all,” he assured her and smiled to himself as he thought about his indispensable secretary, Donna, and other highlevel employees at his workplace. “There are several woman executives at Rossi International. I look at it this way. As long as the job is done and done well, it doesn’t matter if it’s handled by a man or a woman.”

“That’s nice to know,” she said.

Angelina wanted desperately to believe him. She needed John Rossi to recognize her abilities. That had been the reason she fought with her brothers so hard to be named project manager on this job. And just maybe by the time the Grand Haven was ready to reopen, she would have impressed John Rossi enough with her qualifications that he would consider her as management material for the hotel.

“Well, how about we tour the hotel and you can tell me your ideas?” John suggested.

Angelina smiled as his deep voice sent warm shivers along her skin. “We’re ready,” she said. “Just lead the way, Mr. Rossi.”

“Please, can’t we be a little less formal and go by first names?”

She nodded, feeling nervous with his coffee-colored eyes fixed on her.

John then glanced at Rafe and Rick. “I want the lobby restored to exactly as it was in its glory days. It’s perfect without any modernization.”

Rafe nodded. “We only need to make room for the computers behind the registration desk. Rick and I worked out a way to hide them.” They walked to the counter and unrolled Rafe’s plans.

Angelina kept her distance and watched the exchange, remembering that yesterday this man was just a stranger in town who had flirted with her. Now he held the future of Covelli and Sons—and her future in his hands.

“Don’t you think that you should be up there with them?” Tony asked as he came up behind her. “I mean, Rossi seems to have precise ideas on what he wants.”

Angelina wouldn’t do anything to jeopardize winning this bid. “Of course.” She hurried to the desk and listened, then began to write down instructions.

Ten minutes later they walked up the stairs to check out the second floor where there were two ballrooms. The largest one had sustained weather damage, and the window frames needed to be replaced, the floors required refinishing and the woodwork would have to be torn out and redone. Angelina took down the details as the men discussed them.

For the next two hours, Angelina followed the men into several of the rooms. She listened intently as John told his ideas on the modifications. He wanted to convert some of the larger rooms to business suites, complete with fax and computer facilities to attract the area businessmen. But he was adamant that the top floor remain as large suites for guests who would be willing to spend the money for the luxury that the Grand Haven Hotel had once offered—and would again.

Finally they returned to the lobby. Angelina was about to head back to the office when Rick invited everyone to lunch at the family restaurant.

John checked his watch, then looked at Angelina. “I guess we’ve been at this a while. Thanks, I could use a break. Angelina, will you be joining us? I’d love to hear more of the ideas you started telling me about yesterday.”

Angelina felt heat rush through her. “Sure. I’ll bring my notes.” She managed a smile, but refused to acknowledge Rafe’s curious look. No way did she want to explain to her overprotective brother what she was doing in a hotel alone with a man.

John read the sign, Maria’s Ristorante. Authentic Italian Food. The converted downtown storefront was homey with its hardwood-and-brick floor. The murals on the walls added atmosphere and color and each table was adorned with white tablecloths and candles.

Lunch turned out to be a family affair—they all took seats at the large table near the bar reserved for Covellis only. Maria Covelli, a petite woman with warm brown eyes, came out from the kitchen and greeted her children and their guest. Rick’s wife, Jill, a young attractive blonde who worked as a waitress, also joined them until the other customers demanded her attention.

Soon the table was filled with baskets of fresh-baked bread and generous helpings of Maria’s lasagna along with a bottle of chianti. While they ate, John, Rick and Rafe discussed the finer details of the project, but John’s thoughts weren’t totally on business, not while Angelina was seated across from him.

At first Angelina let her brothers do the talking, but it wasn’t long before John asked for her input. She felt shy, but knew this was her chance to show her stuff. She pushed ahead with her ideas. “I like your plan for focusing on the business trade, but don’t forget that the hotel made a name by catering to the rich. And if you’re going to make the top floor all luxury suites you need more to offer, something else to draw them. Since people love to be pampered, I believe the underground area would work well remodeled with a new pool, spa facilities and a gym.”

The silence was deafening as she 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 drew a deep breath, as a picture of Angelina Covelli appeared in his mind. As his grandfather would say, “such a bella signorina.”

He shook his head and brought his wayward thoughts back on track, turning his attention to the file. He knew that Angelina ran the office at Covelli and Sons. And according to Mark, she’d been enthusiastically pursuing the renovation job since Rossi International had purchased the property early last year.

John sat down in the chair. He had to say he was impressed after meeting the Covelli brothers. And they were experts in the field of restoration. The only other person who might have been better at this craft had been their father, Rafaele Covelli. And he’d been killed in a construction accident over two years ago.

John tossed the manila folder on the desk. How many times had he read over the same file the last four months? So many he had memorized it. But he wanted to know everything about the Covellis. More than he needed to know to hire them for the job.

It was how John Rossi did business. He’d learned it was the safest way to make sure people didn’t take advantage of him. Not only in business—but more importantly, in his personal life.

He glanced back at the file. And this wasn’t just business to him, it was personal.

The phone rang. He leaned forward and picked it up. “Rossi here.”

“Buona sera, Giovanni.”

“Buona sera, Nonno,” he answered. His spirits brightened hearing his grandfather’s voice. “How are you feeling?”

He heard a groan over the line. “I’m an old man. How should I feel?”

John grinned. This was the grandfather he knew and loved. But he was getting old, too old to run the vineyard alone. “Then let me get you some more help and you can retire. Come live with me in New York.”

“I’ve grown grapes all my life. A man needs a purpose .”

“But a man needs some relaxation, too.”

His grandfather sighed. “You should take some of your own advice. You’re always working—and always alone.”

John and his grandfather were close. Though he was raised by his father’s parents in America, John had always felt a special bond with his mother’s family in Italy. Nonno Giovanni had been the one who taught John to cultivate the soil, to nurture grapes for the best harvest. And though John had taken over his American grandfather’s business empire, Rossi International, memories of his summers at the vineyard would always bring him happiness. No matter what the distance, John and Giovanni had fostered their special relationship.

But when John had gone to Italy this past harvest, his grandfather had looked more tired than usual.

“How do you know I’m alone? Have you been sweet-talking information from my secretary again?” Donna Charles had worked for Rossi International for over twenty years. She was invaluable and knew all the ins and outs of the corporate world. But she also talked too much to his grandfather.

“A bella woman, Signora Donna. She only tells me what I need to know. One is that you aren’t taking care of yourself.”

“I could say the same about you,” John argued. “That’s the reason I’m glad you’re coming for the holidays.”

“Sì, and we can argue about this again.”

“You are stubborn, figlio.”

“Something I inherited from you, no doubt,” John mumbled. “I’m looking forward to your visit. In fact, I’m planning on being finished here so we can have a long uninterrupted vacation together.”

“I would like that.” There was a long sigh. “We both spend too much time alone. And before I die I would like to see New York again.”

“You’re not going to die for a long time.” Even though his grandfather was seventy-six, as far as John knew the man was in good health. “I have to get back to work. I will call you next week. Ciao, Nonno.”

John hung up the phone and wondered what he’d gotten himself into. For years he’d seen his grandfather’s misery and always wished he could do something about it

Were they so alike? In a lot of ways, sì. They both had trouble with women and relationships. His Nonna Lia had left Giovanni a few years ago, saying he had neglected her for years. That her husband had always belonged to another.

John had survived his own pain. It had been a few years, but the memory burned in his gut like an out-of-control fire every time he remembered Selina’s betrayal. When he’d met her he had fallen hard and he’d thought everything he’d always longed for was within his grasp. He’d have the family he’d wanted since his parents’ death. Then he discovered that Selina only wanted the prestige of being married to Rossi International’s CEO.

Since then John had given up on love; it seemed a steel-coated heart was a family trait. He would concentrate on business instead.

However, for his grandfather, and to be honest, for himself, John wanted to find answers to questions which had been hanging over his family like a dark cloud for as long as he could remember. What he was looking for could be right here in Haven Springs.

The next morning, John carried his suitcase and laptop up the stairs to the second-story apartment. He used the key Rafe had given him to unlock the door. Once inside he was pleasantly surprised at the spaciousness of the place. The gray-blue-carpeted living room had a new sofa and two chairs. The kitchenette had a large table where he would have room for his work and still be able to eat. He examined the new cupboards, impressed by the fine detailing that was the Covellis’ signature. Everything they did seemed to show a little extra care.

He went into the bedroom and found a queen-size bed covered with a navy comforter. The bathroom was large and had been completely redone with all new fixtures, including a double shower.

“Not bad.” John opened his computer case, then found an outlet and plugged in the cord. In no time, he had hooked into the phone line and sat down to bring up his e-mail.

A crash from the outside hall drew his attention. “What the hell?” he said, hurrying across the room and opening the door to find Angelina Covelli on her hands and knees, surrounded by grocery bags.

She gasped. “What are you doing here?”

He leaned against the doorjamb, loving the wide-eyed expression on her face. “I believe I rented this apartment.”

She sat back on her heels. “I meant I didn’t expect you to be moved in yet My grandmother asked me to bring over clean linens.” She pointed to the grocery bag. “And a few staples.”

He eyed her fitted jeans and blue sweatshirt—with Angelina nearby what other “staples” could a man need? Angelina was a sweet diversion from business. But he couldn’t forget she was his business. He knelt down and began to help her gather food back into the sacks.

“You didn’t have to bring me anything. I’m capable of taking care of myself.”

“Try telling that to Nonna,” Angelina said. “She insisted that I was to come here early and make sure the apartment got aired out and bring fresh sheets and towels.”

John picked up the bouquet of dried flowers and caught a whiff of their sweet fragrance. He would forever connect this scent with Angelina Covelli. “Was it Nonna Vittoria’s idea to bring me these?”

She glanced away. “They were from my grandmother’s garden. I just thought a little color would cheer up the place.”

“Thank you. No woman has ever given me flowers before.”

She arched an eyebrow. “Just don’t accuse me of trying to bribe you,” she teased, then turned serious. “I want to apologize for what I said yesterday. I was upset because you thought we were trying to get the job by appealing to your stomach with some home cooking. Rafe and Rick don’t need to do anything like that. I guarantee you won’t find better carpenters to restore your hotel.” She raised a hand. “And that’s the end of my speech.”

John smiled. So Angelina Covelli was not only beautiful, but fiercely loyal.

“I know.” He reached out and took her hand and a shock of awareness shot through him. She looked just as surprised as he did. He helped her to her feet, then reached down and picked up the sacks. Allowing her through the door first, he caught a glimpse of her shapely rear-end encased in jeans. Funny, he’d never thought of denim as sexy before now.

John set the bags down on the table, then they began putting things away. Coffee, milk and orange juice. She pulled out a foil-wrapped package.

“Nonna Vittoria made you some orange sweet bread.”

His mouth watered. “Berlingaccio?”

Her eyes widened. “You’ve had it before?”

“I am Italian aren’t I?” he said, but decided not to elaborate on his taste for Tuscany sweet bread.

“Consider yourself special. Nonna doesn’t make her

berlingaccio for just anyone.”

He found he couldn’t take his eyes off her expressive face. “Be sure to tell Vittoria grazie,” he said, then asked, “Would you share some with me?”

She shook her head. “I really shouldn’t...”

John went to the counter and stood next to Angelina. “Please stay. if only to let me apologize for my rudeness yesterday. I’ve found in my business you have to be careful.”

She nodded. “Okay, but only if I make the coffee. And I can put on the fresh sheets while it perks.”

“I’ll help.”

He finished unloading the bags and she put away a loaf of bread, bacon and eggs. He couldn’t believe all the food. In New York his housekeeper prepared a few meals for the week that he could put in the microwave and heat whenever he got home. “I’m not much of a cook. Being single I usually eat out, or have something sent up to the office. So thanks for all this.”

“Well, you’re thanking the wrong person, because cooking isn’t something I excel at. And it’s got Nonna all worried. She thinks I’ll never find a husband. Of course I’ve told her enough times, I’m not looking for marriage, I’d rather have a career.”

“Can’t you have both?”

He caught a sad look in her eyes before she glanced away.

“I’m just concentrating on my career for now,” she said.

John shrugged. “Sounds good.” How had they gotten on this topic?

His gaze moved over her shapely frame and his body came to life. He had trouble remembering what he was saying. He walked over to the table. “I haven’t found any relationships that last,” he said, wondering if she knew what she was doing to him.

“That’s all I see. My grandparents, my parents, even my brothers, all crazy in love.” She flashed that pained look again, then reached for the stack of towels and sheets, and took off for the bedroom.

He followed her. “So, if it runs in your family, why haven’t you wanted to take the plunge?”

Angelina pulled off the comforter and began spreading the bottom sheet over the mattress pad. “Who said I haven’t?”

Interested, he went to the other side of the bed and grabbed a corner of the fitted sheet He watched as her delicate hands smoothed out the wrinkles. “Can’t believe a guy would let you get away.”