Ten Days in Tuscany (15 page)

Nic closed his eyes. “Probably not. I’ll try and figure it out from the office, but I have to come back down here tomorrow.”

“Okay. Hurry up. Tad will have to catch the later flight.”

“I’m on my way.” Ice cold fingers closed around his throat at the thought of losing the deal.

But the thought of leaving Gia on this night when they should be celebrating her success was even worse than the thought of the Campbell deal falling through.

Chapter Twelve

Gia’s excitement about the success of the show had tempered her disappointment at Nic’s sudden departure for a while. He’d come over to her while she’d been talking to the journalist and pulled her aside. His mysterious brother “needed” him again, and he’d kissed her and left before she’d had time to ask any questions. Ben had gone with him so she didn’t even know yet how successful the day had been.

The caterers had packed up, the last person had left, and Gia was alone. She wandered into the bedroom and pulled the scarlet silk dress over her head. She pursed her lips and shrugged as it hit the floor. There’d been no need for the lacy scarlet underwear she’d put on for Nic. He hadn’t even seen it.

Gia’s mood vacillated. Nic was a good man and look what he had done for her. But he’d just left…again…without any explanation. Her high from the show flattened out. Her family had left, and they expected her to go to the restaurant for dinner. All she wanted was to celebrate the success of the day with Nic. Yet, here she was all alone… And again he’d left her with no explanation. It was almost as though he had something to hide.

She pulled off the lacy underwear and pulled on a pair of loose cotton pants and T-shirt and wandered out to the studio. The bare walls left her hollow. It was as though her life had left with the paintings—or was it Nic’s absence that had left the huge emptiness in her chest? Gia straightened her shoulders and wandered back into the bedroom. She stared at Nic’s painting.

No
.
I am not going to lose my confidence ever again. I am not going to sink back into that shy person
. Her first encounter with Nic had been a sign of things to come; he had rescued a damsel in distress. Going back to the studio, she pushed open the door and went to the small shed. She carried her easel and one small table back into the studio before pulling her paints out. The painting she had hidden from Nic, the one that she had begun after he had made such gentle love to her that night, was for him. Even if nothing more came from meeting Nic, she wanted him to have a memory of what they had shared when he had set her on her path to her dream. Just as, she would never let the painting that he had done go, no matter what happened.

Gia painted all night, and as the sun sent its first slivers of rosy light onto her bare white walls she stepped back and stretched her shoulders. A feeling of satisfaction ran through her. She had no doubt this was the best thing she had ever painted. It was also the first landscape she had ever put herself in. Even she could see the emotion between them and she knew it was real. She would hug that to herself until Nic returned. She had no doubt that he would. Her faith in him was the catalyst that had let Gia’s faith in her art blossom. The future was beckoning, and she was filled with anticipation. She sang aloud as she cleaned up her paints and set the painting against the wall before she headed for the shower. Her hands and arms were covered with paint and probably her face, too. As she stood beneath the water, she kept one eye on the phone, which she put on the floor on her towel, but it remained silent.

As she dried off, her heart jumped as the sound of a car coming up the road drifted through the open window.

Nic’s back.

Dressing quickly, she hurried to the door and opened it, and tried not to look too disappointed as Papa stepped from his car, clutching a newspaper to his chest, followed closely by Gabriel.

“
Papa?
”
Excitement filled her as she saw it was
La Nazione.
“Is my show in the paper already?” As she grabbed it from him, she looked up and saw the frown on his face and more disappointment flooded through her. A successful show, all of her paintings sold, and still her father had no joy for her. She turned away and opened the paper, searching for the lifestyle section where the exhibitions were reported.

“Gia.” Her father touched her arm. His brow was wrinkled in a frown, and he ran a weary hand across his face. “
Bella
, listen to me.” His voice was sad.

“What is it?” She slowly put the paper down and looked at her father.

“This will show you that you must listen to your family,” he said. “We know best. Always.”

Cold prickled through Gia’s blood, and her breath hitched as her father picked the paper up and held it in front of her.

“What? What is this?” A picture of Nic kissing her good-bye yesterday filled the center of the front page. “What are you showing me?”

“Gia, calm down.” Gabriel walked over and held her arms. “I am sorry I let you down. I knew who he was all along and he made me promise—”

”Who? What are you talking about Gabriel?” She snatched the paper from his hands and scanned the headline in disbelief.

Has Millionaire CEO, Nic Baldini Lost His Touch?

“Baldini?”
Her voice dropped to a whisper, and she ignored her father as he tried to speak.

Striding over to the table, Gia spread the paper flat and put her hands on either side, bracing herself. A cold shiver ran through her, and her knees trembled as she read the headline article. She swallowed as her stomach threatened to rise into her throat.

“Has the
Italian Angel
lost his touch? The latest deal of the Baldini brothers is on shaky ground. What was to be the biggest marble contract for the business duo is now in doubt. Rumor has it that his girlfriend, Jennifer Campbell, the daughter of Managing Director of the New York Campbell Company is less than happy with Nic’s continued absences to his Tuscan love nest with his latest protégée, unknown artist Gia Corelli. But does it matter? The Angel has been appointed to the vacancy on the board at the Uffizi Gallery, so maybe his attention will be elsewhere from now on. Watch this space.”

Gia screwed the paper up and threw it on the floor in disgust. “Corelli! They couldn’t even spell my name right.”

She paced the room as her father watched cautiously.

“
Latest
protégée? How many were there before me!” Rage and grief fought for precedence. Taking a deep breath, Gia tried to compose herself. She had kidded herself thinking she was special to Nic. It was the most emotion she had ever shown in front of her father. “Well, Papa. You were right. I was kidding myself all along.”

Mauro held his hand out to her, but Gia shook her head. “I have to go and see him. Will you please lend me your car? I will not be treated like this.”

“I will come with you. Where is he?”

“No. I will go alone. I am not the shrinking violet you think I am. And don’t worry. It is well known that the Baldini brothers live in an old Medici palace near the city. I will find him.” Gia gritted her teeth. “If it takes all day, I will find him.”

“I will come with you.” Gabriel’s voice was quiet, and Gia nodded as he took the car keys from his father.

“I will walk back to the village. You drive carefully.” He stood at the door and looked at her. “You will both be back in time to work at the restaurant tonight?”

Gia’s world crumbled as her father put her future into words. She nodded slowly. “Yes, Papa
.
I will be back in time.”

…

Nic woke late and headed to the kitchen for a coffee. The muted sounds of the Monday morning traffic from the
Via dei Serragli
had finally woken him from a deep sleep. As he passed through the foyer on the way to the kitchen, he grinned. Gia’s paintings were lined up along the walls inside the door. As soon as he’d showered, he was going to drive down to see her and make up for leaving her yesterday. It was time to be truthful; the exhibition had been a huge success, and it was all due to Gia’s talent, not his organizing, or his family name.

He and Antonio had spent hours on the phone last night, dealing and negotiating. Finally they had convinced Campbell that the gossip magazines were not to be believed and that they were trustworthy. It was not until Campbell had called his daughter—who was on vacation in London and verified that it was only gossip—that he’d agreed to seal the deal.

After Nic drank his coffee, gazing out over the small courtyard garden between his and Antonio’s apartments, he headed for his bathroom. The sooner he got on the road, the better. Being a Monday, the trip to Tuscany would be slow. As he crossed the foyer, Ben called him into the study.

“What are the chances of this making it to Tuscany this morning?” He held the newspaper up. Nic hadn’t heard Ben arrive. He must have started work early this morning. He groaned when he saw the photo and the headline.

“
Fanculo
. How did they get hold of that?” The last thing he wanted was the paparazzi hounding him again. And it was such bad timing.

Ben shrugged. “The photographer must have thought he could make some quick money. I’m sorry, Nic. They’ve announced your appointment to the board, too.”

“
Dio
.
”
Nic rubbed his hands over his face. I only got the call from the director last night. In the middle of all of the contract negotiations.” Ben shrugged. “They pay well for scoops.”

Nic waved his hand. “It’s okay. Gia won’t see it. I’m going down there this morning. Now that she’s had the show and the deal is settled, I’ll come clean and tell her everything.”

“I hope it all works out for you. I’ve never seen you so happy. She’s more than a protégée to you, isn’t she?”

Nic stared at his PA. “No, we’re just friends and I helped her out.”

Ben shook his head and grinned. “I think you’re kidding yourself there, boss. The sparks between the two of you almost set the place on fire yesterday. You looked so proud of her success.”

Nic stood beneath the shower, trying to wake up enough to drive out of the city. It had been a long and late night. He closed his eyes as he reached for the shampoo, imagining what it would be like to have Gia living in Florence. He whistled as the contentment settled in his chest. So long as she was cool with him being a Baldini. He was sure of her now, surer than anything he had been of in his life. He’d hated lying to her, and he hoped that she would understand why he had not told her who he was before this. Now that she was a success, he would convince her that it was her talent alone that had got her to that point. He’d simply provided a framework for her to show her brilliant work to the world. Nic frowned as a doubt niggled at him. The way her family treated Gia had left her self-assurance so raw. It was past time for him to realize that he had to let go of that fear of putting his heart in someone else’s hands. He caught sight of himself in the large mirror as he quickly toweled off. A goofy grin spread across his face.

I love her.

Nic bypassed his usual grooming and pulled on a pair of jeans and a T-shirt, before he grabbed his keys and headed back downstairs. Ben was talking to someone in the foyer, and Nic backtracked, heading for the back door to the garage.

“His PA?” Nic stopped dead as Gia’s voice came up the stairs. It couldn’t be Gia, but it had sounded like her. How the hell would she know where to find him? Nic walked slowly down the stairs as Ben’s calm voice mixed with Gia’s. It
was
her. Nic stared at her and cold dread pooled in his gut.

Gia was clutching a newspaper in her hands. Her eyes were wide and clear, but her cheeks were flushed. Gabriel stood beside her, his cold glare fixed on Nic.

“Hello,
Signore
Baldini. How lovely to visit you in your own home.” Her tone was scathing, and Nic crossed the marble tiles and put his hand out to her, but she pushed it away. “It was very kind of Ben, your
PA,
to let me in.”

Ben shot Nic an apologetic look as he backed out of the foyer into the study and closed the door. As the door closed, one of Gia’s paintings slid from the wall and tipped over, lying face up in the middle of the tiles. She looked along the wall at twelve of her landscapes lined up in a row. Her sharp indrawn breath was followed by one word.

“
Bastardo.”

Nic grabbed her arms and looked down at her beautiful face as her tears began to fall. “Listen to me, Gia.” He nodded to the paper. “I can explain that. I can explain everything. There is no woman.”

She shook her head and her curls covered her face. “No.”

Nic ran his hand through his own hair in frustration and sought the right words, but her cold voice stopped him.

Gia pushed her hair back with both hands as she turned to him. “I could have accepted this”— she threw the paper at him and it slid down the front of Nic’s legs and landed on the floor— “the lying about who you are for whatever reason, maybe you just wanted to be someone else for a week. Hell, I’ve wanted to do that every day of my life. But”—she gestured to her paintings—“I’ll never forgive you for this. No one bought my paintings.
You
took them. You betrayed my trust.”

“Listen to me. I didn’t. Not all of them.” Nic grabbed her arms, but Gia shoved him away and stepped back. Gabriel stepped forward but she shook her head.

She held up her hand. “No. Just no. You know how much my family protects me for ‘my own good.’”

Nic cursed himself to hell and back as her voice broke.

“I thought you knew me. The
real
me. I was beginning to think you might even love me. But you just felt sorry for me and wanted to protect me like everyone else. Didn’t you?” Gia crossed to the wall and put her foot through the middle of one of the canvases that was resting against the base of the wall. “This? All this is just a waste of time. They were right.”

“No, you’re wrong. Gia, you have—”

“Stop it, Nic. You’re worse than they are.” She scrubbed at her eyes and covered her face, and his heart shattered when she removed her hands and looked at him, hatred filling her dark eyes.

“At least my family does it out of misguided love. You, you just can’t help being the Italian Angel. You have to be saving someone. Don’t you? I read it all. Was I just another one of your protégées?” Gia turned around, looking for the door. “No, don’t answer that. I don’t care. I’ll never know if my first showing was a success of my own doing and if people really liked my art or if they were there just to win your favor.”