Chapter Four
Mira admired the leafy groves of cypress until palms disappeared behind the looming architecture of the city. Every block shaped building in an array of colors from rose pink to mango stood at least four-stories tall with flat rust shingled roofs. Tourists and locals mixed along the sidewalks or zipped by on motor scooters. To her right, Lake Como glistened with still waters. She could see a few yachts with open sails resting lazily upon the deep blue under the morning sun. A ferry blew its horn as it approached the pier to unload anxious travelers. The car coasted into a reduced speed.
“You arranged breakfast for us here?” she asked, the question nearly stalled in her throat and nervous energy swelled into a tight ball in the center of her tummy. Of course, she didn’t want to sound undeserving. However, the small lakefront town of Bellagio nestled between volcanic shaped mountains, two distinct lakes, and covered in bright colorful flowers, evoked such romance it was hard not to notice. Had he seriously gone this far to get her alone in a setting such as this? They really didn’t know each other, and she hadn’t been gracious about his advances so far.
“I wanted to be alone with you.” The words slipped from his mouth in a husky voice that caused her to glance over, intrigued. Mira stifled a smile over the intense way he focused on the road. Did he always take himself so seriously?
“It’s a beautiful day, isn’t it?”
He didn’t respond.
“Why do they call Bellagio the Pearl of the Lake?”
“Not sure. The temperature here is always nice,” he began. They drove slowly along the stone roads. She peered out at the little quaint shops. “The island town is a peninsula. It sits in the heart of the Lario.”
Intrigued, she glanced back. It was then she noticed the cars behind her. She was certain they were the same ones from Lorenzo’s villa. Mira parted her lips to say so when her gaze fell upon his profile once more. He had such strikingly handsome features. His hair was dark as coal and thick. It reached just behind his nape and smoothed back from his face. His brows were silkily black and his strong jawline fit his cool serious demeanor. A man of his height with such broad shoulders and chest should have appeared stuffed in the expensive sports car. Instead his reclined posture looked relaxed. He covered his eyes with dark shades, the lenses reflective. But from the profile she could see his gaze slip over to her. She returned her focus to the road to avoid the awkwardness over being caught once again staring.
“I’m sure whatever you’ve planned will be nice, but I do want to see the city a bit. Before we go back to the villa, that is.”
When he didn’t respond, she admired the scenery outside of the passenger window. His sleek sports car parked a distance from the stone white villa, he turned to her, removing his sunglasses and tucking them in his front shirt pocket. The Ferrari doors lifted. His steady gaze bore into her with silent expectation, and she felt compelled to look at him directly. “We’ll have to walk the rest of the way,” he said. “I’ve requested a private tour of the villa. This too isn’t allowed. I did it for you, Bella.”
There was a tingling in the pit of her stomach. Her mouth went dry, and she swallowed trying to remain unaffected by his nearness. “For me? You sure about that?”
“Meaning?” A sly smile eased across his lips causing a dimple to rise in his left cheek. The man sure was confident. He stared directly at her as if he were to be rewarded. So she gave him a polite smile and single shoulder shrug. “I think you have your own private motives.”
“You do inspire me. Yes, I have my motives. Does that make you uncomfortable?”
Mira laughed. “Thanks for being so honest. I guess not.”
“Good.”
Once out of the car, he strode around to her side to offer assistance. She accepted his hand and stepped into damp grass. The four-inch spiked heel to her strappy sandal sank deep in the moist earth. “Oh crap!”
“Something wrong?” His gaze dropped to her feet.
“I wore the wrong shoes obviously.” She lifted a foot and felt the other sink deeper. Before her hand slipped from his, a strong arm circled her waist. In a flash she was lifted, weightless. “Giovanni!” she gasped.
Effortlessly, he carried her around to the front of the car and placed her gingerly on her feet onto the stone pavement. “Better?”
She chuckled fixing her dress that gathered higher up her waist making the hem reveal too much of her thighs. “Yes. I guess so.”
Mira discreetly stomped her feet and dropped clumps of dirt from her heels. The wind blew her hair forward. She was glad she chose to wear a headband to keep her thick locks from her face. The connection she felt with him returned when his gaze lifted and latched to hers.
“I’m fine. Really.”
To prove her point she sashayed away. His long strides had him walking at her side in a flash. She glanced back and noticed they had a shadow.
“Is that man following us?”
“He and others.” Giovanni answered, not bothering to look behind him.
It was then that she noticed two other men. One across the street and another a few paces ahead of them. They were covered on all sides. Mira held back from questioning him. Together they walked along the path and passed a very distinctive hostel. His stroll was slow and easy. The view of the lake and the gentle serenity of the city had her head swimming with ideas. Maybe her fall line could have some photos with Zenobia shot here in Bellagio. The scene was perfect. She’d have to remember to run it past Fabiana.
“Have I told you how beautiful you are today?” Giovanni asked when he gently placed his hand on her lower back to steer her toward the open entrance of the gardens.
“Oh stop.” She rolled her eyes. His smile dimmed. Had she insulted him? He was trying so hard to impress her, and she wished he wouldn’t. Maybe she could glean just what type of man he really was if he said something more genuine. After they continued their stroll in silence for a while, she eased her hand into his, and it was a perfect fit. “How old is this place?”
The villa could be seen just beyond the trees erected between the foot of green sloping hills and the lake. Whoever designed it had a real appreciation for where the beauty of Bellagio could be best seen. Mira cast her gaze out toward the lake and again felt a warm breeze soothe her.
“This was built in 1808 for Duke Francesco Melzi d'Eril as a summer home.”
“How do you know the date?” she asked. “You sound like a tour guide when you say it that way.”
“School. The Duke was assistant general to Napoleon and Vice President to the royal Italian Republic. Every school boy knows about the Melzi d'Eril.”
“Oh.”
“The gardens are open to the public, but the villa often isn’t.” Exotic trees with long leafy branches trimmed into an umbrella arch shaded the walk along the slender road. Mira noticed their destination would end at a bleached white paved terrace before the villa. The landscape was bright and colorful with exotic blooms. She kept glancing over trying to think of how to continue a conversation with him, but when he looked her way she lost her nerve. It wasn’t just her. She noticed how he fumbled over his words or kept his jaw tight and his posture tense during their frequent uncomfortable pauses. Neither trusted the other to be themselves. That made her sad. It was such a romantic place.
“Do I make you uncomfortable?” Mira asked.
Giovanni chuckled.
“Is something funny?”
His stare was bold, and he assessed her frankly. “It’s been quite a while since I’ve felt less confident.”
“Why? Because we’re different?”
“Maybe, or maybe it’s just because you don’t know me.”
As strange as she found his statement, something within the message remained clear. The man was the biggest mystery to her and that was by design. She doubted few people knew who Giovanni Battaglia really was.
“Those are gorgeous.” She pointed to the wild blooms of red, lilac, and pink flowers. ”What are they?”
“Rhododendrons and a few azaleas. They aren’t my favorite. I will introduce you to my favorite flower.”
A man, tall and pale with a flat unreadable expression, waited for them at the center of the lower level steps. A divided picturesque stairway circled him and ended at the doors of the villa. On either side, four austere, large lions carved of stone stood guard. Mira’s mind conjured images of the days of Napoleon’s men bounding up the steps with their swords holstered in their royal uniforms. An elderly couple stopped to gawk along a trail to the east. She’d gotten a few stares once she ventured out of Naples. At first in Milan they were because of her celebrity, but here she knew the stares were quite different. She figured not many people of color vacationed in Bellagio. There was a distinct feeling of privilege that went through her. She wasn’t sure if she liked it.
The overly tanned gentleman dressed in a dark navy blue suit stepped forward to greet them. His gaze volleyed from her face to Giovanni’s before their eyes could connect. He greeted Giovanni with a kiss to both of his cheeks. Strange. Men greeted each other in Italy this way often. At home, she’d never seen it done so freely.
“What did he just say?” Mira whispered.
“They’re ready for you.” Giovanni extended his arm for her to lead. She climbed the steps and went left up another spacious flight before walking through the villa doors. They entered a cool unnaturally quiet entranceway. Portraits hung above busts carved out of marble. Each bust depicted nobility and was centered on an elegant pedestal. They passed a few baby cannons that were aligned symmetrically and pointed north.
“This place looks like a museum.” She observed. Giovanni wasn’t at her side but a few steps behind. Mira tried not to walk with too much of a sway to her hips. She didn’t dare check to see how he watched her. Each time their eyes met, the pull on her insides made her courage falter. Even now her stomach fluttered with excitement from his unwavering interest. Kei was once passionate for her. Always attentive and romantic, their cultural differences in New York didn’t matter. Being different transformed her life.
The light sway of her hips made his blood hot in his veins. The hem of her dress only reached two inches above her knees. She had lovely toned legs, and with her feet perched in her high heel shoes, the calf muscles to the back of her legs bunched and her thighs became tight, shapely with each step. All of which excited him. Giovanni rubbed his jaw and shook it off. The lady wasn’t one he’d likely pursue. She challenged him too much, had too many opinions, and questioned everything she saw. He liked his women more accepting of things they didn’t know or understand.
A quick glance at his watch and he knew the business with Calderone required a few discreet meetings with the other families in this region. Word had spread of the raid of Lorenzo’s restaurant, and he intended to silence all wagging tongues. His cousin’s recent tantrum had not been forgotten. However, she compelled him to delay the matter, and this intrigued him. Dominic had made the arrangements for their day. A woman like her would expect to be romanced rather than seduced. He could aim to do both.
The villa didn’t often open its doors to the public. They would dine in the glass house with the panoramic view of the gardens. The staff had set the table over white linen with navy plates and gold utensils. The centerpiece had an elegant arrangement of blue roses; his mother’s favorite flower was among them. Dominic had an odd sense of humor. The sight of the flower made his heart skip a beat and his mood lighten. Should he share the reason?
“Oh how lovely! I’ve never seen a blue rose before,” she exclaimed. It was the reaction most women had when they saw the flower. He assumed it was also how his father seduced his mother away from her family.
“It is my mother’s flower. Our family grows them; we even have blooms here in the gardens.”
“Really? That’s the first time you mentioned your family interests.”
A sly smile lifted the corner of her rose-colored lips, and he felt his temperature rise. She liked to tease him. “Someday soon I’ll show you more about my interests.”
He eased out her chair, preferring to be the only man in the room to do so. Gracefully, she lowered into it and removed the dark blue napkin to spread across her lap. “This is sweet… all of this. I didn’t expect it.”
Giovanni held his tongue. He had no intention of apologizing further. In fact he found it surprising that she kept mentioning his prior behavior, especially since she had moved her business into property that was rightfully his. She was one of the few people living he’d ever apologized to. His father had probably sat up in his grave when the words fell from his lips.
“You American women like to lead.” He stated, his tone purposefully flat with little accusation.
The smile she offered in return was radiant. Her chocolate brown irises sparkled with curiosity. “Lead?”
“Yes, you and your friend are quite independent. Did you two build your company alone?”
“If you are implying that I didn’t need a man for my success, that’s correct. I have investors, but I own Mirabella’s. Fabiana and I have built our business from the ground up.”
“I’m not implying anything. I stated it.” Giovanni relaxed in his seat keeping his attention trained on her. She met his stare dead on. This, too, he appreciated. Her full bow shaped lips glistened with the loveliest rose-colored gloss, and her long lashes made even a blink from her a seductive invitation. “How is it? Being the boss?” he asked. The drink waiter came forward with a carafe of his selected wine.
“You tell me. Looks like you’re more of a boss than I.”
“A bit lonely at times. Unfulfilled?”
“No, not really. I stay busy.”
He nodded. “Which is probably why you’re so… uptight?” he mused.
“How dare you suggest that I’m cold?”
Giovanni released a gust of laughter. How did she make that leap? Cold? The heat radiating from her would warm any man’s bed, or heart. The last thing to cross his mind was her being cold. She missed his point. The woman reminded him of an overstressed spring ready to snap at the slightest prodding. Though she had her moments, such as holding his hand and the polite smiles during conversation, he could not really break through the force field around her. If he touched her without permission, she’d flee. He was certain of it.
“I would never presume you were cold. In fact, I find you quite remarkable. I’m only suggesting that like most people you have a lot to learn about what it will take to make you happy.”
“And you’re an expert on happiness?” she smirked. “Looks like your talents aren’t used for making people happy but evoking fear.”
“Fear? An interesting choice of words.” Giovanni glanced toward the private chef and drink waiter. He spoke directly to them in Italian and asked if they were afraid of him. The men glanced at each other then back to him not sure how to respond.
“What did you ask them?”
“If they were afraid.”
“Why ask them? They won’t answer you directly.” She glanced toward Renaldo who stood off to the corner of the room. “I’m sure even your hired escort tells you what you want to hear.”
Giovanni looked to Renaldo and smiled. “I guess you make a valid point, Bella.”
“I wasn’t trying to insult you.”
“Don’t apologize to me for speaking your mind. I will admit that I’m not used to it, but I don’t want you to ever feel that you can’t be yourself around me.”
“Are you a drug trafficker?” she blurted her next question.
The humor in the moment faded. In a flash, she went for his balls. Taken aback, he didn’t know quite how to respond, but the intensity in her stare suggested he say something. “What did you ask me?”
Clearing her throat, she spoke in a direct manner. “I realize the question is incredibly rude. I’ve wanted to ask it since I saw the men with guns. First the demands you made on me disguised as a favor for helping me with my business—”
“I’ve already explained that—”
“And now all of this. They treat you like you’re the Prime Minister. You aren’t the Prime Minister. Are you a drug dealer?” she asked again.
“No, we detest drugs. No one in my family or business deals in that poison.” He let the answer settle with her until he felt she relaxed a bit before he continued. “If you get to know me, you’ll find me as harmless as a lamb.”
It was her turn to laugh. “I doubt it.” Her plate was placed before her, then his before him. He had no appetite. But he did want to watch her eat. Everything she did aroused the sleeping giant in him. Maybe Lorenzo was right, and it had been too long since he had the pleasure of a woman’s company? It could explain the burning interest he had in this one.
She studied her breakfast. The chef poached some eggs and sautéed fish, scallops and sea urchin in olive oil and basil. This he explained to her. He’d been to America and knew that eggs were expected for breakfast. Everything else was his own special request.
“Sea urchin?” she frowned.
“It’s love on the palate. Give it a try.”
“I guess I’m not used to this.” Her gaze flickered back up to him and then swept the glass house.
“Used to what? A man taking a sincere interest in you?”
“A man as arrogant as you, who’s obviously dangerous, so intent on pursuing me. It’s a little hard to take at once.”
“How can I relax you?”
She sighed. “It’s not necessary, I’m relaxing.”
“No you aren’t, but thanks for pretending. Tell me what it will take to make you comfortable around me.”
Mira picked up her wine and sipped it. “Okay, how about a friendly game of Q and A?”
“Q and A?” he repeated not understanding her.
“Question and answer…I ask you answer.”
Giovanni stared at her for a moment deciding on the interrogation. “I’m willing to try,” he said not touching his food, preferring her and the new game between them. She smiled and put her glass back on the table.
“First question, where were you born?”
“Mondello Beach. It’s in Sicily.”
“Did you go to college?” she asked.
“I did.”
She stopped chewing. If she weren’t such a lady her mouth would probably be agape. Did she really think him a thug?
“You did?” She used her napkin to cover her mouth while she spoke.
“Shocked?”
“Oh, no. I mean… I’m sorry what school?”
“Harvard.”
She stared into his handsome face, realizing her impressions of him were unfounded, and she’d been extremely prejudiced. He went to college in America? She hadn’t expected to hear that. “What did you study?”
“International law. I left my last year of school.”
“Why?” She swallowed, her voice soft with concern.
“My father summoned me. Two days after my return he was shot. He died of those wounds later. The family needed me.”
“That’s awful.” Her hand reached across the table and covered his. Giovanni smiled, turning over his hand so his palm could grace her soft smaller one. He imagined all of her was as soft.
No, he didn’t find her cold. He wanted more of the warmth he felt like this. “Grazie Bella. I’m okay now with my choices.”
“And his death?” she asked. “Did they catch the people who did it?”
Giovanni hesitated. He never picked at that wound. “No.” He half-lied. The Polizia di Stato didn’t catch his father’s murderer, but he had. Thanks to his cousin. The lovely woman before him wouldn’t appreciate his brand of justice, so he kept that information to himself. The softness of her touch drew away and he clasped her hand tightly to prevent her escape. He brought her palm to his mouth and pressed a soft kiss to the center. “My turn.”
“Okay.”
“Where were you born?”
“Small town in West Virginia. The United States.”
“Do you have a husband?”
A shadow of regret passed over her pretty features. It was so fleeting he couldn’t be sure. She flashed a sweet smile and shook her head slowly. “No.”
“Boyfriend?”
“No.”
“Lover?”
Her gaze lifted and rested on his. They stared into each other’s eyes for another uncomfortable pause before she spoke. “No.”
“Why Italy? I’ve read in the papers that you are permanently relocating your business to Napoli.”
“It’s true, I plan to make Napoli my home. I chose Italy because, well, it’s a good balance between tradition and fashion. I love all that I’ve seen.”
“Sounds like a statement you’d make for the press.”
She blinked, shocked. Then she laughed. “You’re right. It’s the statement I gave to the press.”
“Okay. I’ll ask a more personal question. Why did you choose to design women’s clothes?”
“What woman doesn’t like fashion? It’s all I’ve ever wanted to do.”
“Surely there’s more, another reason?”
Mira eased her hand from his. She sliced into her fish. “You’ve seen my work. That’s my passion. End of story.”
A more patient man would have moved to another discussion. He was never a patient man. There was more to this woman than the fancy dress he saw her grace along her runway. She looked stunning, but out of place around the flashing bulbs and applause. Dominic told him that the Milan show was the first she’d been invited to in Italia. Lorenzo shared that Fabiana was intent on a vacation for them both. An escape. Why would she need an escape from her passion?
“You’re doing it again.”
“Doing what?” He smiled.
“Staring.”
He nodded. “I guess I am.”
“Something else you want to say?”
Giovanni fingered the stem on his wine glass. He watched her lips part to accept a small portion of fish from her fork and the way she chewed lightly, the tip of her tongue peeking out to swipe at the corner of her mouth. What man wouldn’t stare?
“Who are you? Really?” she asked.
“Now we’re back to me? Is that your final question?”
“Depends on your answer.” She winked.
“I’m a man who makes it his business to understand the motivations of people. What they want, what they need, what their weaknesses are.”
“Why would you become that kind of man?” She frowned.
“A birthright.”
“Interesting.” She ate a bit more.
“When I was a boy my father decided to test me. He made me stand on the edge of a cliff and jump into the sea.”
Her gaze shot back to him. “What? How old were you?”
“Five or Six.” Giovanni said. “Do you know why he did that?”
“That’s awful. Your father forced a six year-old to jump off a cliff?”
“I survived.” His lips twisted and settled into a smile. “Do you know why he did this?”
“No. I don’t know why any sane parent would do that to their child.”
Her bitter reply was followed by a deep frown. Giovanni conceded that Tomosino had ways that kept his mother in fear most of her life. But as a man he understood his father much better now. “Shall I explain?”
“Please.”
“A father wants a son in his own image. Mine did. The events in our childhood strengthen character, shape our lives, and decide the steps we will take to be the people we are born to be. I’m his son. Many still question this fact, and I suppose he did too at one point. Not because of the blood in my veins but my heart and what it was made of.” Giovanni’s voice became hoarse with emotion. He never spoke of his father so openly, not even with Catalina. To show weakness in his life would be a deadly mistake. Mira listened intently. She soothed him, even seduced him with her patient understanding. So he continued. “We are who our parents raise us to be. My accomplishments and failures are because of what I learned the day I jumped off the cliff. I’m Tomosino Battaglia’s son and someday I’ll be made to prove it. Now I’ll ask you again. Who are you Mira? And why do you design women’s clothes?”
Mira recoiled a bit inside to hear the hard truths of his childhood. He seemed so jaded by it all. A father who would force his young boy off a cliff sounded like a madman. To hear Giovanni speak of him, it was an act of love. She lowered her fork. Her heart softened for the man in front of her. Though handsome and obviously wealthy, he sounded empty She stared into the misty blue swirls of his eyes. All too quickly, she ran out of diversions. Her chest swelled with remembrance and emotions of her empty childhood. The choices she made were shaped from it. He was right.
“Who are you?” he asked again.
“I’m Mary Ellison’s granddaughter.”
“And what does that mean?” He pried at her in a voice both comforting and compelling.
The sadness surfaced as it always did when she thought of her long dead grandparents. She opened her mouth to explain her doubts and couldn’t find the words. To talk of them in the past tense only made the present bleak, void.
“She’s gone? Mary?” he pried.
Mira glanced away. The invisible hold he had on her lessened when she looked away from his eyes. How the hell did the conversation take this turn? His hand eased across the table. The tips of their fingers touched. He didn’t take hold of her hand. She forced herself to return her gaze to his. The man preferred it. She could tell. Swallowing a dose of courage she spoke but her voice sounded shaky and small. “I lost my mother when I was a baby, and I never knew my father. My grandparents raised me. I had no other siblings. My extended family wasn’t around me as a child, so I didn’t get to know my cousins or aunts. I spent a lot of time with her. I called her Me-ma.”
“I wish I could see you as a girl. I’m sure you were quite excitable.”
“I could be. My grandmother said I was inquisitive. She taught me to sew. Together we created so many pretty things for us and the women in our church. She never had her own store, but she had the talent. She taught me so much with a sewing needle. Designing women’s clothes comes naturally to me, and it’s who I am.” The admission was dredged from a place of pride and strength and suddenly the truth of her past didn’t hurt as much. However, he had no right to those memories. No one did. She pushed back from her table and rose. “I need some air.” She mumbled and walked off. Her steps became a bit hurried once she left the glass house and entered the villa. Sometimes being alone in her life suited her. She had her work, and she had her friendship with Fabiana. To not have a family to share her success with was a price she had grown to accept, until she met Kei. He helped her believe they could achieve more, but when he tried to offer it she realized that even with him she felt alone. What did that make her? Cold? Lost? Incapable of happiness?
“Mira?”
She wiped at the corners of her eyes and turned to find him in the hall with her. Lost in her thoughts she hadn’t considered where she was walking to, just that she needed to get out and into some fresh air so she could breathe again. “Give me a minute.”
She faced away and wiped at the tears brimming in her eyes. He walked up behind her so suddenly she whirled to fend off his closeness. But he kept his pursuit until she was flush against the wall.
“I said give me a minute.”
“I upset you. I seem to have a habit of doing this. What makes you cry now?” He brushed his thumb under her eyelid and her breath caught.
“Now? I wasn’t crying in there.”
“You know what I mean.”
“All I know is I need a minute. It’s personal, okay?” She tried to shift aside and away from him but he crowded her. Her cheeks burned hot with shame but the dominant reaction was regret. She regretted exposing this wound to him; he seemed like the kind of man that could turn her inside out if she allowed it.
“What can I do?”
Mira wanted to laugh in his face. Instead she closed her eyes and shook her head slowly. There was little left of her grandparents now. Just memories. She had her damn purse snatched and lost the picture she had of them and the bracelet she’s carried all of her life. Dumb. Stupid. How could she be so careless with her treasures? A sob wedged in her throat and she neared tears again. The sensual rub of his palm against her cheek was shockingly comforting and she found herself turning her head toward his touch instead of away. Despite the warning of her inner voice not to do so she lifted her gaze to him. Mira couldn’t break the instant connection between them. It felt like her life depended on maintaining his stare.
His chest rose and fell a little more deeply and her nipples extended from contact. Each brushed hard ridges that sent sweet quivers through her abdomen. She drew a deep breath to ask him to step aside, and he obliged by stepping closer to kiss her.
The brush of his lips over hers was more persuasive than she dared to admit. His moist firm mouth demanded a response, and she gave it willingly. Her arms slowly lifted and his hands smoothly traced down her sides to grip her hips and bring her up against him once their tongues united. The smoldering passion she found in his kiss was hotter than a thousand suns. She held to him by his nape, her head went back, her eyes lowered in submission. A deep intake of breath filled her lungs with his strong aftershave and clean male scent. Giovanni covered her with his broad chest and powerful arms. She felt her knees weaken as his mouth descended with a series of slow shivery kisses along her neck.
How could she abandon everything for a kiss? Easy. One kiss from this man and all her long suppressed feminine desires surfaced. A fresh, uncharted arousal stirred and made her moist between the thighs and achy at her core. Mira sighed. His mouth returned to hers. He crushed her up against the wall. Taking one of her hands by the wrist he pinned it above her head while he pressed what felt like steel against her lower abdomen. She wasn’t prone to giving into a man so easily. He’d seized on her weakness and became her conqueror. As his firm demanding lips caressed hers, and his tongue darted in and out of her mouth, he whispered in Italian, words of desire so decadent they melted her insides.
“I don’t understand all of what you’re saying,” she groaned.
Once more her head began to spin. Raw lust and frustration clashed within her. She could barely move, but her legs parted under his instruction allowing him greater access. She bent her knee to place her foot on the wall and steady herself. Otherwise she’d slip in a puddle of emotions to the floor. There would be no escape. The hold on her wrist tightened, and she tugged on his grip to no avail. So she pushed at his arm with her free hand and then his shoulder, all the while deepening their kiss.
For air and some sense of control, she turned her mouth from his, but his lips across her neck were just as lovely. She groaned deep in her throat and summoned a single word.
“Stop!”
He did.
Giovanni’s head lifted, and he blinked, a bit confused, trying to look into her face to understand her command. It was then his grip lessened enough for her to pull her wrist free and press hard against him. “I said stop. Don’t kiss me again!”
“Why?” he demanded, keeping her pinned to the wall.
“Because it’s making me uncomfortable.”
“Never pegged you for a liar, Bella.”
She glared. “I’m serious. Let me go.”
The humor in the moment drained from his face.
“I just need some air. Now, please!”
Giovanni stepped back, keeping his hands raised to show her he would oblige. She hurried away from him. The doors to the villa and terrace were open, and she marched out into the sunshine. Finally, she could breathe. She’d lost her head. Flirting with the man was one thing, but kissing him was something far more scandalous. The press was hot on her heels after the breakup with Kei and his divestment of their business. She could see the headlines now. No one believed her talent unless a man’s name was in the byline. Mira shook her head and hugged herself against a balmy breeze coming in through the thin leafy branches of the surrounding large trees. “Excuses, excuses, you know the real reason girl,” she mumbled. The truth was she enjoyed the lapse in control too much.
Soft footfalls drew her attention back over her shoulder. Giovanni hurried down the steps to join her. His hands shoved down in his pockets he looked unfazed by her rejection. That stung too. He probably thought she was some flake or maybe just a quick conquest not worthy of the trouble.
Ugh! Weak and needy is not attractive Mira.
“Don’t move. Wait right there.” He called out to her.
Mira rolled her eyes. “I asked for a minute please. I just want to be alone.” She turned left and started toward the tiny bridge that crossed into the gardens. She thought his request was a command and not a warning. Before her was a bed of lilies covering a shallow pond. Too bad she realized it too late. One step and her foot sank. Mira’s arms flapped out from either side and her eyes stretched so wide all the muscles in her brows went tight. She turned to escape the fall and went backward screaming. Water splashed upward from all sides drenching her. She landed on her butt. Giovanni stopped. He blinked at the scene. At first shock registered on his face, then laughter exploded from him further wounding her pride.
“Don’t laugh at me!” She pouted.
The shallow water of the pond reached her waist. White lilies floated around her on the rippling waves and a spray of tiny bugs flew out of their petals. She squinted and swatted them away. “Oh my God! I’m so embarrassed.”
“I’ll help you!” Giovanni surveyed the scene. He gauged his step but still his expensive loafer sank in the murky pond, drenching the hem of his pants leg. Mira smirked once his palm extended out to her. The smugness in his eyes and smile could not go unnoticed. She reached for his hand. When Giovanni aimed to pull her up, she summoned all her strength to pull him down. He anticipated her move, and with one quick jerk of her palm he lifted her and caught her up against him. His powerful free arm scooped up her soggy dress and legs, and he held her in his embrace as if she were a child. His men stood off in the distance, observing. She glanced over to see them frowning at their boss. He not only carried her but the water and lilies she had been submerged in. They were a sight.
Giovanni snarled a few curse words under his breath stomping out toward the paved walkway. She stuttered out hard laughs. “Guess the tour is over. I have to change.” She told him once he set her on her feet.
“Let’s go this way. It’s a shorter walk and you can see more of the gardens. Breakfast is ruined.” He took her by the hand, and they began to walk.
“Breakfast was fine. I enjoyed it.”
He sucked down an impatient breath and kept walking. Mira couldn’t think of anything to say in response. The smile on her face didn’t fade. Seeing him trying to remain rigid and in control with muddy pants and ruined shoes was far too cute to ignore. This time he took her hand, a bit more possessively. Of course his men remained as their shadow. When she glanced back she could swear they were suppressing the urge not to laugh.
“I embarrassed you?” she teased.
“I said never mind it.”
“You’re cute when you’re embarrassed. Your eyes stretch and your nostrils flare like a bull.”
He lost his step. He glanced down at her. She winked. He shook his head and smiled. Together they walked along a short path at a moderate pace. She blinked at the most exquisite of sculptures in the center of a stone fountain. An enchanting likeness of a woman from ancient times stood at least seven feet tall. It looked Egyptian, definitely Egyptian from the headdress and features.
“Napoleon kept the treasures he’d stolen from Egypt and brought some here. That is one of them. She’s a goddess of some sort. Not sure which.”
“She’s stunning. I wonder what her name was? Probably a Queen or—.”
“We should go.” He pulled her past the sculpture. Mira frowned. She removed her hand from his and he finally took notice of her disapproval. He stopped and stared at her.
“What’s your hurry?”
“I’m done here. I want to leave.”
“You are angry.”
“I can take a joke.” He dismissed the incident in the pond with the wave of his hand. Of course he would since she failed to pull him in.
“No. You’re angry because I kissed you and then pushed you away. Right?”
Exasperated his hand flew up in defeat. “I kissed you. You have every right to turn me away. It’s your choice.”
“That’s not an answer.”
“I’m not angry. Disappointed? Yes. Angry? No.”
“Well sorry to disappoint you, but I don’t take to kissing men I don’t know.” She crossed her arms and tossed her chin upward.
His face was hard, cheeks stark red, and his gaze intense, focused solely on her. “Are you toying with me, Bella?”
The question was valid. She wanted to argue with him, play with him, and make him chase her a bit. She realized if he took her back to the villa then it could very well mean the end of their mating dance. And she kind of didn’t want it to end on a sour note. “I’m not a tease Giovanni, I just expect things. A girl has a right, to, you know. Not every man is entitled to a kiss. At least not a kiss from me.”
“Which makes me want to kiss you even more.” He stepped closer, her attention riveted. She lifted her chin higher to maintain the connection they shared. “Boils my blood to think any man has tasted you before me.”
The gravel in his voice made her toes curl. Mira drew in a quick, harsh breath. “You can’t be serious?” Her entire body quivered with heat after his proclamation. His left brow quirked upward and a sly knowing look of her inner weakness covered his features. Damp and sticky between her thighs her wet panties clung to her like another skin. Nothing alleviated the heat gathering in her core and warming her inner channel. She forced her gaze downward to her ruined designer original. Muddy stains had the fabric shriveling and looking worn. How anybody could find her attractive now was a mystery. Yet she felt like the most desired woman under his stare.
His eyelids fell to her lips, darkening his crystal violet stare to the deepest shade of sapphire blue. She held her breath and braced for his lips to reunite with hers. Oh yes, she wanted another kiss. Did he know? Instead he shifted his gaze to one of his men who had wandered too close, and the spell was broken. “Let’s get you changed. Maybe we can see more of the city and salvage the day.”
Giovanni again extended his hand. Mira felt as if even the insects held their breaths waiting to see if she would accept. She did. He walked her out of the garden toward his car. Mira felt drained and empty by the end of the short tour. She sat in his car quiet. Would it have been so terrible for her to loosen up and just enjoy the man? Fabiana would have. Kei told her she was cold inside at times, and she believed him. She didn’t trust happiness. She knew how badly it hurt when one lost it.
“Can I ask you a question?”
“Yes.”
“When we kissed.”
Again he wore dark sunglasses but she felt his stare shift in her direction. “Yes?”
“You said something in Italian, what were you saying?”
The sly smirk on his mouth made her heart flutter. “Why? You didn’t enjoy the kiss?”
“I never said I didn’t enjoy it.” She gripped the inside of the door as he accelerated around a very narrow curve along the mountain. “Slow down, please.”
He eased off the gas, and she relaxed. Still the cramped roadways made cars and the ride uncomfortably close.
“Thank you. I want to know what you said. I know a little Italian, and I could understand some, but not all.”
“I cursed where we were when you gave me our first kiss. I said if we had a bed I’d spread you out on it and taste every inch of you. Shall I continue?”
The kiss had been wildly erotic, but lord what he said had her nipples tingling and extending. She averted her gaze to the passenger window. Silence lengthened between them. He shifted gears again, and they accelerated toward the gates of Lorenzo’s villa. Giovanni parked. A man approached the car but remained at a distance.
“Thank you for breakfast. The tour was nice. Sorry about the pond.”
He nodded. I guess there’s no more to say. She left the car and hurried for the steps to the villa and then the stairs to her room. She could barely close the door before she was reaching under her wet dress skirt and removing her panties. She dropped them on the floor. Taking in deep breaths she aimed her attention toward the doors of her shower, while trying to reach the zipper at the back of her dress. She really needed the temperature turned to frost to cool herself off. The man made her feel like her skin was on fire. In her dreams, she would remember the tender roll of his tongue and the groans as he whispered to her in Italian. God, if she had known he was saying those things she would have dropped.
“Fabiana girl, I can’t wait to tell you this—.” Her voice hitched in her throat when she heard voices. They sounded close enough to be in the room. Slowly Mira lowered her hands from her zipper. Men entered the hall behind her. Giovanni’s voice rose above the others. He said he’d take the call in his room. Then a door closed. He was in the room across from her. Mira suffered a twinge of disappointment that they didn’t spend the rest of the day together. Maybe she should change and hurry to remind him of the promised tour of the hamlets. Or maybe she’d blown it. Seriously what did she have in common with a Mafia gangster who once wanted to be a lawyer?
From the corner of her eye, she glimpsed something. The closer she stepped to the bed, the deeper the realization. It was her purse, the one stolen in Napoli with the cut strap. Mira marched over and opened it. To her surprise everything, including her passport was accounted for. With shaky fingers she drew aside the inside zipper. A three-inch square shaped velvet pouch was tucked right where she found it. Hard and fast relief filled her and her mind stilled long enough for a deeper realization. She’d misjudged his arrogance. The man obviously had skills and power that reached further than her imagination. For him to do this, he couldn’t be all hardness and brawn. What lie in her hand was more valuable than the hope diamond. Did he know what this meant to her? Maybe he didn’t. She removed her grandparents’ picture and the tiny bracelet. She pressed it to her heart and exhaled deeply.
Giovanni grunted, shed his shirt and tossed it to the chair in his room. He wasn’t the heroic type, didn’t believe in denying himself anything. Most women spoiled him, saw to his emotional needs without asking. This was true of Zia and Catalina, and of every girlfriend he’d ever had, and he’d had plenty. Now he felt like an idiot. He glared down at the muddy streaks to the front of his trousers. His men had seen him wade in a shallow pond for her. Saw her laugh in his face, and still he couldn’t get enough of her.
These were troubling times with his family. The other families and outsiders were all slitting each other's throats with the introduction of drugs. He wanted no part of it. But to take this stand put him and his people in danger. He had to show strength. Even Lorenzo warned so.
Why should he spend the next few days chasing an American fashion designer who had snubbed him? They were different, in every way imaginable, and still the unfamiliar was as tempting as the apple in the Garden of Eden to Eve. He knew he wouldn’t be able to turn away from her. Convincing her would be another problem. He picked up the phone and dialed Don Calderone.
Mira marched out into the hall. She ignored the man standing off to the other end and his curious stare. She knocked twice before the door opened. He appeared with his shirt off but still wore the same mud stained trousers. Stunned at the sight of his chest and the tattoos on his arms, she stepped back instead of forward. He looked as if he expected her and turned to go back into her room. The tattoo that spread across his shoulder blades was more intricate. And though she wasn’t into that kind of thing, it just added to his raw handsomeness. She entered and closed the door.
“Un momento, Bella,” he said.
Silenced, she waited. Giovanni returned to the phone and spoke in his native language to the person on the other end. The room he had was twice the size of hers but absent of the magnificent view. The bed nearly seized half the space.
He ended the call.
She kept safe to the door. “I’m sorry to interrupt.”
“It’s no interruption. I thought you were going to change?” He looked her over.
She managed a smile. “I found this.”
Giovanni’s gaze lowered to the tiny bracelet in the center of her palm and then lifted back up to her eyes.
“Did you do this?”
“Do what?” he asked.
“Have my purse and things brought back to me. Did you find my bracelet?”
“Find it?” He smiled. “No Mira. I had my men go and collect your purse. Do you understand the difference?”
“That’s impossible. I just told you about it last night. It’s been gone for several weeks.”
“You’ll learn with me Bella, most things are possible.” The distance between them closed, and again she felt herself backing away toward no escape. His arm lifted, and his hand rested on the wall. She sank back on it, staring into his eyes.
“Thank you. You have no idea what this means to me.”
“Did you come into my room to thank me?” he peered down at her. Tendrils of black hair clung to his forehead.
“Yes.” She breathed, focused on his lips. Maybe I should kiss him this time as a reward. Just a quick sexy kiss to show him I’m grateful? His mouth loomed close to hers just a kiss away, and his free arm circled her waist dragging her up from the wall to bring her against his chest. The bottoms of her bare feet left the ground, and she rose to her toes. She wasn’t a short woman, but his height could not be matched by her gender. To avoid their mouths crashing together, she tilted her head back and braced herself by grabbing his arm and side. In a flash she felt desperate, breathless, on the verge of collapsing if he didn’t hold tight to her.
“Should I ask for permission this time?” There was a faint tremor in his voice, revealing how hard he fought for control. He too must have felt the electric current of excitement charging the air. “I don’t want to scare you. You’ve been teasing me all day with this sweet mouth of yours.”
“No,” she answered, with deceptive calm. Quivers worked their way up her thighs to her belly, and she softened just before accepting his kiss. His tongue swept inside of her mouth. Her hand slid to the top of his shoulder and cupped the back of his neck and the sexy tenor of the kiss shifted. The tension between them was depleted.
He released her and lowered his face to suck and nibble an undiscovered sweet spot on her neck. Mira’s lids fluttered, then shut. She ran her hand over his broad shoulders, giving into the passion swirling through her being. His free hand gathered the wet hem of her dress then disappeared underneath. Mira’s eyes flashed open as soon as he uncovered her secret.
Dammit I don’t have on any panties!
Giovanni’s left brow arched and his eyes shone with interest. Five strong fingers caressed her bare buttocks. Her lips parted to explain but nothing escaped. Silence enveloped them for what seemed like an eternity. Should she force him back, run, or discover what lie behind the beauty of his eyes? Giovanni answered with a kiss. He seized her mouth, his tongue plunging deep and fast, turning over hers. He eased his hand around her hip then between her thighs to cup her mound. Excitement cramped her chest and wound tighter and tighter around her lungs. It left her desperate, breathless, on the verge of self-implosion. He eased two fingers into her at the same time using the pad of his thumb to massage her clitoris. She reached and grabbed his wrist. Her mind stilled long enough for her to realize she could be making a huge mistake. Air returned to her lungs and she found the ability to speak.
“Okay. That’s enough,” she exhaled a nervous laugh.
“Sei molto bella. Don’t pull away.” Giovanni brought her up against the wall while he fondled her sex. His forehead bumped hers, and his nostrils flared.
“English please.”
“I said you are very beautiful.”
She took a deep breath and adjusted her smile.
“Ti adoro, it means—”
“You adore me.” She finished his sentence.
His expression was hungry, and lustful. His gaze softened, and his smile eased the corner of his mouth up smoothly. He continued to rapidly thrust his two middle fingers in and out of her, and ran the tip of his tongue over her tightly sealed lips. The pleasure took her under and she released a soft sigh of joy.
“You’re mine now.”
His other hand gripped the corner of her hip to hold her still as he fucked her in a controlled fashion with his fingers. She was pressed hard against the cool door as if she could escape through the wood. There would be no escape. Her thighs parted a fraction in response, and she felt her pelvis tilt accordingly.
“I can’t take anymore,” she cried out.
“You can, let me give you more.”
Mira pushed hard against the pleasure consuming her and grabbed his hand once more. “No. No please...”
“I need to touch you. Like this.” Two fingers slipped out and slowly rubbed up and down her slit before he gave her clitoris a gentle pinch.
“Move your hand, please.”
“I don’t know if I can, Bella. I’m not a man who retreats. Maybe we should find a compromise?”
She swallowed her nervous chuckle and tried to give him a serious face. But with him touching her the way he was, a shy smile kept forming over her lips. “Compromise?” her voice croaked, and she found it hard to not move her hips in response when a finger slipped in again, knuckle deep. He nipped her bottom lip and lowered his face to rub his strong jaw across her cheek.
“What is it… the compromise?” she nearly gasped.
“I’ll replace my fingers with my tongue,” he said against her ear. Mira’s heart pounded out of control. The prospects of his lips and tongue down below sent such a thrill through her she couldn’t help but smile her consent.
Giovanni forced her feet apart with his. He rubbed her long and slow before withdrawing his hand from her sex. He gathered both sides of her skirt into his hands slowly drawing the wet fabric up. She felt the coolness brush up her thighs then her center.
“Hold it for me,” he ordered.
She blinked. “Huh?”
Giovanni smirked. “The skirt.”
He forced the fabric into her clenched palms and she was unable to resist his command. Like a good girl she hiked her skirt even higher to her hips. Their eyes never left each other as he lowered to his knees. The man was so tall she still felt as if he were standing. Of course the promise in his wink made her heart flutter.
The exchange was broken when Giovanni’s focus returned to what she so brazenly exposed to him. His gaze lowered to the neatly trimmed hairs over her shaven mound. She wasn’t vain, but even she admired how evenly brown and hairless her legs were. She worked out often, and ran daily to alleviate stress. Today, in this moment, she felt appreciated for her efforts.
With careful but firm hands he stroked both palms up over the curves of her thighs to her hips and reached around to cup both halves of her ass. A gentle squeeze made her exhale with anticipation. Without consciously agreeing she widened her legs for him and dropped her head back to the door. Mira squeezed her lids tightly shut. Of course, sensibility had left the room. She felt no need to follow her golden rules. Thou shalt never let a man give her oral or other pleasures with his tongue on a first date. Thou shalt never secretly wish he then bend her over and give her even more.
God help me…
A man of his word, he did what he intended. Fingers gently parted her sex and his tongue teased the engorged knot from its hiding place. He began with long sensual swirls from below her folds, piercing her opening with his tongue then sweeping up across her clit. Tender kisses came next, followed by a slick and slow lick. Quivers worked their way up her thighs and belly. The tip of his tongue flicked the rigid knot, feathering it with soft lashes and her hips gyrated. Mira bit down on the inside of her jaw to keep from crying out. When his face pressed in to devour her she lost all strength in her legs. He explored, licked, and tasted her. His firm moist lips tugged on her clit with a sharp pinch that was soon soothed by the way he flattened his tongue and ran it up and down between her folds. As if understanding or sensing her weakness his hand went up to press against her abdomen and keep her pinned to the door. She aided by lifting her left leg and throwing it over his shoulder.
Mercy…
Her legs trembled and she neared climax. Soon Giovanni’s tongue play became her waking fantasy. From the way his tongue plunged deep into her pussy, to the sexy swirls of her hips that aided and gave further access, the flood of pleasure quickly hurled her toward an orgasm. God help her but his tongue sought pleasure points no man had discovered. Ever so slowly he began the delicious torture again, and she sank deeper into madness. Her head dropped back and she smiled the biggest grin she’d ever worn. Her body shook all over with glorious tremors. It left her wet with a fiery hot ache in her core.
As she reached the peak of her climax, her mouth gaped in a silent cry of submission. He allowed her release, taking every drop of her essence before he kissed her below once more and rose to capture her lips with his. The strong hardness of his lips and the salty taste of their forbidden passion felt as if her brain spun in her skull like a spinning top. Delicious. She held to him, nearly ready for anything, begging with her racing heart that he do her. Demanding lips caressed hers with a promise for more and then stopped. Giovanni pressed his forehead to hers while they both struggled for a breath. He groaned deep in his throat and squeezed his eyes tightly shut, before he released her, but not before his middle finger slid between her folds and tickled her clitoris to remind her of how perilously close they’d come to exploring the depths of passion now stirring between them.
Stunned, Mira searched his face for an explanation. He stepped back and kept his hands raised as if she had drawn a gun on him. Confused and a bit embarrassed she fled the room. Fast. She headed to hers and closed the door locking it. Mira heaved down several quick breaths. Second time was a charm, third time and she’d strike out for sure. Here she was lecturing on quick and easy sex with Fabiana, and she had gone to the man’s room.
“My bracelet!” She realized she dropped it sometime during the kiss. “No! No! No!”
The knock to the door startled her. Exhaling she composed herself and opened the door. He filled the space before her with his arm raised, his hand braced on the top of the doorframe. He leaned forward and looked into her eyes.
“You dropped something.” He opened his palm. The bracelet was in the center of it. She accepted her treasured item. “The next time you come to me, I won’t let you go so easily.”
She smiled. He winked and turned and went back to his room. Mira closed the door shaking her head. “Next time, huh?”
****
Giovanni showered. Not that it was necessary, but the woman had left him with such an unyielding hard-on he needed the cool jets for relief. He shouldn’t have seized her when she came into his room. Like a frightened bunny she leapt from his arms and hurried away when all he wanted to hear was that she felt his passion for her. Hell, what did she expect? Showing up in his room barefoot, bottomless, eyes wide and lovely, with a mouth like hers, the moment he discovered she was weak for him he lost all control. He was only a man after all. And the taste of her? Never tasted anything sweeter.
His day had been filled with a few surprises. The first kiss she gave him took his breath away, but the second set his blood to boiling. A sly smile split his face at the thought of her rebellion. He hadn’t expected it to end with her falling into the pond. And the joy in her pretty brown eyes when she told him that her precious items were returned to her made him the hero. He missed the soft vulnerability that could be found in the arms of a headstrong woman.
Of course she had the perfect body for a man like him, supple in all the right spots. The kind of curves that would be a comfort to him when chaos returned to his life, and he knew it was coming soon. Territory wars were brewing with the expansion of tourism in southern Italy. He needed the alliance with Calderone to stay ahead of his enemies.
He joined Dominic and Carlo on the open terrace that wrapped around the side of the villa and caught the cool breeze from the Lario, which was the lake. The men finished lunch and awaited his arrival. Most in his family preferred to dine in the sun. Dominic and Carlo pummeled him at once with business matters, while his mind kept flashing to thoughts of his and Mira’s brief time together. Every time he heard movement his heart thundered in his chest. He could feel the ache return to his groin and extend through his semi-erection. She did not reappear, and after an hour of hoping, he shifted his attention to the men who needed him.
“Did you hear me? Catalina has called. She wants to talk to you.”
“Handle her.” Giovanni ordered Dominic as he swirled the cubes in his glass. “Who found the purse?”
Dominic frowned but Carlo answered. “Renaldo made a few calls. It was with Maximo’s men. He had it brought in this morning.”
“Well done.” Giovanni downed a shot of his malt and swallowed an ice cube. He needed something to cool him off. The doors to the villa opened and in drifted the soft giggles of a woman. He glanced up as Lorenzo strolled inside with his arm draped over the redhead. Both of them had wet hair and deep flushed looks. It appeared that his cousin had done much better in his pursuits.
“This looks serious,” Fabiana smiled at the men. “Is Mira upstairs?”
Giovanni nodded.
She rose on her toes and kissed Lorenzo. “I’ll go find her. See you for a late lunch. Okay?”
Lorenzo nodded and let her go. Giovanni noticed how his cousin kept his eyes trained on her hips. “Woman is a firecracker. You have no idea.” Lorenzo whistled. Carlo snickered but Dominic cut his eyes away in disgust.
“How are things?” Lorenzo asked.
Dominic rose. “I’m heading back home, to see to Catalina.”
Lorenzo nodded. “You do that little one. I’ll handle business with Giovanni. That is until Flavio returns.”
Dominic glared. Lorenzo never missed a moment to point out that Flavio was consigliere and their young surrogate cousin was just a stand in. Giovanni waited for the tension to pass. He didn’t need to speak. The men gave each other a nod of reprieve and parted. Carlo rose next. He walked over and slapped Lorenzo on the back. Grabbing his neck, he whispered in his ear. Lorenzo roared with laughter. Carlo sauntered out.
“You don’t look to be pleased.” Lorenzo tossed Giovanni’s way.
“I have a lot on my mind.”
“And the designer? She was supposed to give you some relief. How was she?”
“Watch your fucking mouth. Don’t speak of her in that way.”
Lorenzo’s brows shot up. “Scusi. Guess she’s made an impression on you.”
Giovanni headed to the bar to refresh his drink.
“Are you falling for that designer?” Lorenzo pressed.
“What?”
“This is a first. You usually don’t visit Bellagio for long. On my way in, I saw the boys. Looks like you might be here for a few more days.”
“I have business in Bellagio thanks to you. The caberineri have dispatched two inspectors. They’ve asked to see me directly.”
“Of course.” Lorenzo grumbled with forced restraint. “What are your plans for afterward?”
“Afterward?”
“Our guests?” Lorenzo’s gaze switched to the ceiling to emphasize his meaning.
“Aww, Mira. She and I have unfinished business. A private matter.”
“The favor she owes for the building you want in Napoli? Still negotiating?”
“I don’t negotiate, you know that.” He’d forgotten her rebuke of his offer. Fuck he’d buy her four buildings if she’d let him run his hand up under her skirt just once more. “She’s unlike any other woman I’ve met since my return to Italia. I find her interesting.” He turned from the bar and sipped his drink, locking gazes with Lorenzo from over the top of the glass.
“You do know she could never fit in your world. A fling is the best you could hope for.”
“What about her friend? You two look pretty cozy.” He returned to his seat and plopped down.
“Fabiana? Don’t let the red hair fool you. She’s Italian. A hot little sex kitten. I can’t get enough of the pussy, now that she’s finally given me a taste. But I’m not a man to settle down. She understands this. You, however, cousin, well let’s just say we see things differently when it comes to women.”
Giovanni chuckled. “No shit.”
“That friend of hers, I’m not too sure about. She’s a bit jumpy. A bit of a donna. Imagine molding her into a Battaglia wife?”
“I don’t want a woman to be molded into anything. And I don’t want a wife.”
“You have Catalina back in Sorrento being molded into the perfect bride.”
“Different. And you know it.” Giovanni said his throat dry and his patience short. Lorenzo looked poised to counter and the phone rang. Both of their eyes switched to it. Giovanni observed him while he took the call. There was a short exchange and then he asked the caller to allow him to ring him back.
“Something I should know?” Giovanni asked.
“No. It’s my gift for Fabiana. An artist I’ve commissioned to do her portrait.”
“Thought she wasn’t worth the effort?”
Lorenzo gave a thin-lipped smile. Giovanni narrowed his gaze on his cousin. He could tell when he wasn’t truthful. In that moment he knew he was lying.
“You said the carabineri have come. Is it one of our friends?”
Giovanni didn’t bother to answer.
“Should I attend the meeting? It was my restaurant, and Francesco was my partner.”
“I owned the damn place, and they know it. I’ll handle it.” After another long swig of his whiskey he slammed the glass on the bar. “I’ll leave now. Send Bella my regrets. Maybe I can join you all for dinner.”
“Giovanni?”
He paused at the door.
“My request, to be part of the meeting with Don Calderone? Domi is headed back to Napoli. Will you allow it?”
“No. I’d rather you focus on returning my investment.”
He waited for Lorenzo to challenge him. The flash fire of rebellion sparked in his cousin’s eyes. Instead he nodded his obedience and held his tongue. Giovanni shook his head and walked out.
Once alone Lorenzo picked up the phone and dialed. “Che cosa?”
“We need to meet.” A deep voice rasped on the line.
“Where and when?” Lorenzo asked, checking his timepiece.
“Now. The Denelli place.”
Lorenzo ended the call. He walked over to the closet behind the bar and located his gun. Giovanni would be occupied, and with Carlo and Dominic gone he could manage the meeting with little consequence. So he hoped. Things were getting further out of his control, and Giovanni was too close to the truth.
****
“Where are you?” Fabiana threw her door open. Mira had chosen another green dress. This one had a long skirt that covered her knees, and thin spaghetti straps. She was working on her tangles when her best friend charged in.
“There you are. I saw Giovanni downstairs. He said you were up here.”
“Did he?” Mira tried to sound unimpressed. She could still feel herself tingle between her thighs at the mere mention of the man. How on earth could she face him after what transpired between them?
“I had the most fantastic of times. We took Lorenzo’s yacht out. I met with an artist who took pictures of me. He’s going to do my portrait. Can you believe it? And after breakfast I gave Lorenzo a little dessert. Let’s just say it was everything I thought it would be.” Fabiana plopped down on the bed. “Wait, why are you changing clothes?”
“Long story.” Mira turned on her heel and smiled. “So what’s up now?”
“Nothing. The men have business. Lorenzo got a call, and we had to come back. Is that why your date ended too?”
“Wasn’t a date,” Mira mumbled.
“Oh. Didn’t go well?”
She pondered the question for a moment. Things between them went beyond well. However, it was far too soon to define what the passion they shared meant. “Let me show you something.” Mira went to the dresser and picked up her purse. She turned and showed it to Fabiana.
“Is that—?”
“Yes. And guess who gave it to me.”
Fabiana inspected the purse. “Are you serious?”
“He had it delivered to my room. Now how do you explain something like this?”
“I can’t.”
“Exactly.”
Fabiana scanned the contents. “What about your bracelet?”
“Everything was returned, including my passport. You know that purse has been missing for over three weeks and now it shows up as if it was never taken?”
“You think he set you up to be robbed? Why would he?”
Mira shook her head. “No. I don’t think so. It’s not his style. I have no clue what he wants. Surely a man like him can have any woman he wants. But he seems fixated on me. Or maybe that’s the wrong word choice. He’s so mysterious and opinionated I can’t tell what his motivations are. And I feel so overwhelmed when I’m alone with him. I don’t think I will make that mistake again.”
Fabiana laughed.
“What?”
“You kissed him didn’t you?”
“What!”
“Oh I can tell. Something is up.”
“Shut up.”
“Good grief. So what? A little kissy-poo between consenting adults isn’t a sin. The man is hot, and we’re vacationing. What harm could it do?”
“Have you forgotten the conversation we had this morning? Mafia men. Plenty harm can be done. Access to our building with locked cellar doors we can’t enter?” Mira kept her gaze averted so Fabiana didn’t read more. The man’s kiss was the least of her worries. What he did with his tongue still had her knees wobbling.
“I think that purse over there is a peace offering. So what, he’s a bad boy? Not telling you to marry the guy. His friendship could be a benefit to us. I had a long talk with Lorenzo. Not saying I’m totally sold on us becoming involved with the Battaglia’s, but what they are asking of us isn’t illegal.”
“Fabiana, you know I’m in no need of a new relationship, casual or otherwise. Have you forgotten about Kei?”
“The asshole who broke up with you because you said no to his marriage proposal? No. You don’t have to remind me. I just want you to have some fun the next few days. It’s a different country, a different time for us both.” Fabiana almost beamed with happiness. She studied her for a moment. Her wet hair was suspect.
“You really did sleep with Lorenzo?”
“We’re not talking about me.”
Mira shook her head. “I hope you know what you’re doing.”
“Of course I do. I’m falling in love. Now get dressed. We still have the city to see. Screw the boys. I think we should do it together. Be right back while I tell Lorenzo and get us a driver.”
“Wait. I… Giovanni and I had planned to do some sightseeing.” Mira said.
“Really? Oh. Okay.”
“Go find Lorenzo. I’ll talk to Giovanni. Maybe we can do it as a foursome.”