Catherine’s plane landed on time in Florence. She eagerly disembarked and made her way through customs. The Italian officials were quite used to art students coming to Florence to study and see the sights. One of them offered to be Catherine’s personal escort but she declined.

She ventured out of the airport and made her way to where she could rent one of the popular Italian scooters. A scooter was perfect for getting around Florence if one wasn’t easily intimidated. Catherine had spent some time in Rome the year before. Last year’s trip had been both for business and to speak again with the investigator she had hired. At that time, he’d found little information on Shannon. Catherine figured if she could survive Rome and Roman drivers, she could survive anything.

She pulled out her city map and determined the best way to the B&B. She ventured out into traffic and was off. Truth be told, the drivers in Florence seemed far more relaxed than their Roman counterparts. She made her way along the narrow streets and found the residence for her stay. It was all the B&B booking site had promised.

A lovely row home in a clean, pleasant neighborhood. Off-street parking, a private bath, and easy access to all Florence had offer either via scooter or on foot. She rang the bell on the iron gates and when she answered the questions on the monitor, the lock clicked open. She was instructed to bring her scooter in and park it in the shed and that her hostess would be down momentarily.

Catherine grinned. She believed she had made a good choice. She parked her scooter and grabbed her carpet bag before walking into the courtyard. Catherine wasn’t sure what she expected the owner would be like, but Seraphina Vilotti was not it.

Seraphina came into the courtyard and immediately hugged Catherine like an old friend.

“Welcome to Casa Dolce,” she said in an American accent. “I’m your host, Seraphina. And no, I’m not a native Italian.”

Catherine laughed, feeling very much at home with Seraphina.

“I’m Catherine Livingston. I’m not Italian either, but I can order off a menu with the best of them!”

“Bene! Come on in and let’s get you settled. New York?”

Catherine smiled. “Guilty as charged. You?”

“Originally? San Francisco; now? Florence, Italy. Moved to be with the man of my dreams. Imagine my surprise when I found he had a wife and kids.”

“Oh, my,” said Catherine. “I’m so very sorry.”

“No worries. I’d left my job and sold everything to be with him, so I bought this place and rehabbed it. Turned it into a nice little B&B. Between that and teaching both English and Italian, I have a nice little setup... and no fog!”

Seraphina walked her into the house.

“Now, I have a room upstairs with a little balcony overlooking the courtyard. And I have a bigger room here on the ground floor with its own private terrazzo. Both have private baths. This is just before our high season and I don’t have anyone scheduled before it gets started. Normally I charge more for the one down here, but you can have your choice. Same price.”

“No stairs? After hiking all over Florence? Ground floor, please.”

Seraphina laughed. “That’s what I figured. I don’t blame you.”

Seraphina took her to the spacious bedroom in the back with the private patio area.

“This is great, Seraphina.”

“Sera,” she said.

“Sera it is. I’m Catherine.” She wandered idly around the room. “This is really lovely.”

“Art student?”

“Yes. How did you guess?”

“Right time of the year,” said Sera. “And all of you artistic types have a kind of surreal air about you when you reach the Mecca of the Renaissance. Long flight?”

“Yes, but I slept most of the way.”

“Hungry? I have some flatbread and some pesto. I’m sure I can put together a quick bite for you if you like.”

“That would be wonderful.”

Sera smiled. “Well, you get settled in and I’ll bring it to you directly. Water? Wine? Soda?”

“I’m bordering on dehydrated so water, please.”

Catherine barely had time to unpack before Sera returned with a large glass of ice water, fruit, and flatbread spread with pesto and melted mozzarella. It smelled divine.

Catherine took a bite of the ooey, gooey flatbread, closed her eyes, and sighed in pleasure. “Oh, my God, Sera. This is incredible. That pesto didn’t come out of a jar.”

“But of course it did,” Sera grinned. “Of course, it’s pesto I made and jarred myself. So do you have an itinerary or know when you want to get started in the mornings?”

“Uhm, I can be very flexible and I don’t want you to go to any trouble. But usually I start becoming coherent about nine.”

Sera laughed. “Like me. I’ll bet though you’re up before then. Why don’t I have coffee or espresso and a biscotti outside your door about 7:30 and then you can wander out when you’re ready to face the day.”

“That sounds perfect. I think I’m going to go stretch my legs and get a feel for where I am in the city.”

“Have fun and if you get lost, call me and I’ll give you directions home.”

“Sounds perfect,” said Catherine as Sera left her room.

Catherine finished getting settled and changed into comfortable walking sandals. She headed out the door and began to explore.

Sera’s home was on the edge of a residential neighborhood. It bordered on an area that was filled with small, local restaurants, bars, some shopping, and a few art galleries. Catherine spent a very enjoyable afternoon wandering throughout the areas close to Sera’s home, and she made it back in one piece in the early evening.

“You’re back!” Sera greeted her upon her return. “Do you have plans for dinner? I was going to go hit up one of the local places and I hate to eat alone.”

“Sounds great. Am I dressed ok?”

“You’re perfect. And if we’re not... fuck ‘em!”

Catherine laughed. “Oh, girl, I like your style. We’re going to get along great.”

* * *

Marco had met with Luca earlier in the day. The latter had several new wine festivals into which he wanted to enter their wines. The DeMedici wines had always provided a sizeable income for the family, but under Luca’s tenure as master vintner, the label had exploded. Not only had sales increased to the point that they couldn’t keep up with the demand, but they had become one of the wine critics’ darlings—it seemed that there wasn’t enough praise that could be given to them.

Luca had found a small boutique vineyard that could be bought for a fair price. The vineyard and label had been in the family for a few hundred years, but the current generation had no interest in wine or in growing grapes. Easily within a day’s drive from the villa, Luca had proposed they purchase it. The grapes grown were some he had longed to work with and he felt they would be a nice supplement to those grown at DeMedici vineyard. They also grew some of the variety to be pressed into balsamic vinegar. And the property boasted a large, old stand growth of olive trees. Luca laid out an entire marketing plan for Marco’s approval.

Marco smiled. Not only did Luca’s plan make good economic sense, he could tell his omega was keen to move on it.

“This sounds good, Luca. Why don’t you go to Florence and see if you can’t put the deal together.”

“No, Marco. You need to do it. You are the DeMedici. That carries weight in Tuscany and I know you will get us a better deal than I could. I appreciate your confidence in me, but you are the far better negotiator.”

“Yes, but Griffin will be here later today.”

“Take him along. The two of you can talk in the car and Florence is a beautiful city.”

Marco laughed. “You’re afraid I’ll tap into some of those bottles you want to enter into competition.”

“There is that, but you will get us a better deal.”

“I’ll tell you what. If the Welsh wolf is amendable to a side trip to Florence, I’ll go. If not, you go and get us the best deal you can.”

“Thanks, Marco. I really do think by this time next year we’re going to be glad we took this step.”

“If nothing else, we can update the residence, if it needs it, and allow our people to use it as a getaway.”

They were just finishing up their meeting, when there was a knock on the door. One of the house staff let Marco know that the Welsh wolf should be arriving momentarily. Marco smiled. He’d left Griffin his motorcycle at the airport, knowing Griffin would enjoy the drive and the open air.

“Excellent! Let’s finalize plans for this venture and how to get it accomplished at dinner. The more I think about it, the more I think buying this vineyard is in our best interests.”

Luca nodded. “I’ll get a preliminary meeting set for tomorrow. I’m happy to do whatever you need me to do.”

Marco stopped at the door and turned back to him. “I need you to get serious about finding a mate.”

“I think the pack is far more interested in our alpha finding his and bringing her home.”

“I know none of you believe me,” said Marco softly, “but she’s out there. I’ve seen her.” He shook his head and chuckled. “She is just being difficult and hiding from me. But never doubt... she will be mine.”

Marco left the room with Luca looking after him. No one in the pack doubted that she existed or that whoever this blonde beauty was, she had no idea what her future held.

Marco heard the motorcycle as it pulled up in front of the villa. He rushed down the steps to embrace his good friend and former comrade.

“Welcome! Welcome!”

Griffin Owen smiled at his friend. “It’s good to be here, Marco. Thanks for taking me in.”

“You know you are always welcome. Juliana has made your usual room ready. It is yours for as long as you like. Are you hungry? Lunch is almost ready.”

Griffin laughed. “Marco, you always know how to make me feel welcome. Let me take my things upstairs and take a quick shower to wash the road off and I will happily dig into whatever is being served. I’m starving.”

Marco watched Griffin head up the stairs. His friend couldn’t fool him. Griffin may have made his voice light and airy but there had been a darkness behind his eyes. If he hadn’t yet left Special Forces, Marco meant to urge him to do so. There was only so much a man’s soul could take before it would be irrevocably damaged. If Griffin was done, then Marco meant to urge him to stay—here at the villa and if not, perhaps the new vineyard outside of Florence.

Lunch was a lively affair at the DeMedici villa. Marco knew that the sound of happy voices and lots of wonderful food would go a long way to helping the Welsh wolf find his way back to the light.

Griffin joined them within short order.

“God, I’d forgotten what a celebration every meal is with your pack. Don’t get me wrong, Calon Onest is home and everyone is lovely, but they’re...” Griffin hesitated, looking for the right word.

“Quiet?” supplied Marco. “Dull? Blasé food?”

Griffin started to laugh. “While accurate, that was not what I was thinking.”

“But of course not. You are far too kind.”

They dug into a delectable meal and enjoyed themselves. Marco asked that the chef be brought out where he was met with a round of applause from his enthusiastic pack.

Griffin sipped one of the wines that had been served. “This is amazing. I swear your wine gets better and better.”

“It does,” said Marco, “because of Luca here. Not only is he a most excellent omega, but he is a vintner of high regard. Speaking of which, how does a quick trip to Florence sound? Luca has found a small vineyard he wants us to purchase. Not only do they have grapes for wine and balsamic vinegar, but he tells me they also have olive trees.”

“I don’t think I’ve been to Florence in years. I think that sounds like an excellent place to start my retirement.”

Marco smiled at him. “So you have finally walked away?”

“I didn’t have a pack to come home to.”

“You did, but chose not to claim it. Ioan would have stepped aside. You know that.”

“I do. But he’s the right man for Calon Onest. While Wales will always be home, I just don’t see myself settling there.”

“Home, my friend,” said Marco, “is where you bed your woman on a regular basis and see your children born and raised.”

“Really?” responded Griffin with a grin. “Is this your way of telling me you finally found your mysterious blonde-haired mate?”

“Alas, no. She still hides from me, but she is close. I can feel her.”

“Well, perhaps we’ll find her in Florence.”

“She’s not Italian.”

“Neither am I,” teased Griffin, “but apparently I’m going to be in Florence tomorrow.”

Marco laughed. “Perhaps. If so, if I see her before Luca’s meeting either you or he will need to conclude the negotiations. I will be preoccupied with my mate.”

Griffin smiled at his friend. There was no doubt in anyone’s mind that when Marco finally found his fated mate, he would move heaven and earth to claim her.