Destino (14 page)

“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.