Destino (28 page)

“You hungry?”

“Famished.”

“Lorenzo and Fabiana are eating out. How about we stay in? Talk. Have dinner together, privately.”

She sat on the edge of the bed. Her eyes did a sweep of the room. There was nothing to see. Catalina and Zia redecorated after his mother’s death. The shock of losing her so soon after his father sent him spiraling into a deep depression. Sleeping here gave him some peace. He felt close to his mother then. Most of it had been done by his mother. But this room was his, and he liked it simple. Besides the bed that had been in his family for half a century, there was a chaise chair, a tallboy, night table, and bookshelf. Mira rose and walked over to the bookshelf scanning those he read, over and over. She picked up one. “Charles Dickens? Mark Twain? Ernest Hemingway?”

“I love to read.” He confessed. “When Mama took sick with grief, I read to her nightly. Those are our favorite books.”

“Grief? She died from grief?”

“A broken heart. The doctors said it was her diabetes but losing my father, the way we lost him, it was too much for her.”

“So she loved him? Deeply?” Mira pressed.

“Deeply. Inconceivable I know, if you knew their history, but she loved my father.”

She put the books back. She turned and smiled his way. “I’m sorry for your loss.”

Giovanni blinked away the sadness clouding his vision. “Me too. Enough of my loss. What about the treasure I’ve found?”

She gave him a sweet smile that made him ache to touch her. But he paced himself. He had all night to explore his desires. “Thank you for agreeing to come, for sharing your vacation with me. I know you hadn’t intended on things going this far.”

“We have a week. One week and my vacation is over.” She reminded him, wagging her finger.

“What relaxes you?” he approached. “Painting?”

“Huh? No. I don’t paint. Never have.”

“You sketched the lake. It was very good.”

“Okay.” She chuckled. “I draw, most designers do. We use that side of our brain.”

“You like the Morandi. I have some on the west wing I can show you.”

He lifted her chin. “Have you tried to paint? You have the heart of a painter.”

“And you know my heart after a few days?”

“I think so.”

There was another knock at the door. He ignored it. “Would you paint for me? Try?”

“Sure Giovanni. Pass me a paint brush and I’ll give it a whirl.” She teased. Her gaze switched beyond him. “There’s someone at the door.”

“Fuck them.” He ran his hand down her shoulder and arm. “I like these dresses. What are they called?”

“Dresses?” she kidded.

“You know what I mean. The way it wraps around your curves and ties on the side. It’s the second one you’ve worn. I like it.”

She took a step closer. “Why? Because you like to take it off me?”

He nodded. The knocking began again. “Maybe you should answer the door.”

He groaned but agreed. The visitor was probably from the kitchen delivering dinner. He yanked the doors open to find Dominic standing before him. Giovanni narrowed his gaze. “What is it now?”

“Trouble. I need to see you downstairs. It can’t be avoided.”

“Fuck!” he turned. Mira again was before the bookshelf. He nodded. “Give me a minute.” He closed the door.

“Let me guess, you have to go?”

“Not far, just downstairs. Why don’t you get comfortable? They’ll bring your dinner.”

She rocked on her feet with her hands clasped before her. “I understand. I’ll read.”

He chuckled. “Very funny. You’re welcome to explore.”

“I can wait for you,” she winked. “I’d rather a personal tour.”

Giovanni rubbed his jaw again admiring her shapely figure in her wrap around dress. He prayed she packed a suitcase full of them. They flattered her beauty so much. “I won’t be long, and this will be the last interruption of the night.”

“Don’t make promises you can’t keep.”

He winked. Once in the hall he felt another pang of guilt over abandoning his guest so soon. Silly as it sounded, he needed time with her, and time was never a friend to him. He hurried down the stairs and turned left for the gathering room toward the back of his place. He found Dominic pacing. Alone. Curious he walked in concerned. “What is it?”

“Got off the phone with our contact in Genoa.”

“And?”

“Giuseppe Calderone is dead. They found his car abandoned at
Le Scogliere
. There’s blood in the trunk, lots of it. Also his gun and shoes.”

Giovanni stuck his hands in the pockets of his pants. “A hit?”

“Angelo’s kicking up a fuss; he’s making accusations. Don Calderone has suffered a stroke.”

“Shit.” Giovanni paced.

“All his men are out on this one. Lake Como is being ripped apart. Families dragged from their homes in the middle of the night. Two have already been executed. The old man is letting Angelo call the orders on this one. They haven’t found the body, but when they do...”

“You have concerns? They’ll look my way?”

“Giovanni. Lorenzo and Giuseppe have been seen quite a bit together in the past few years. Between Genoa and Bellagio, many have questioned their casual friendliness.”

“Lorenzo wouldn’t do this and not warn me.”

“I haven’t found anything to connect him. But there is a weak link in Calderone’s family. Do you remember Fish?” Dominic asked. “He’s Giuseppe’s flunky trying to make the ranks. If Lo and Giuseppe had any type of business or private feud Fish would know about it. With everything going on, I needed your approval before I make contact. I don’t think my snooping around now is in the best interest of the family. Should we let the dust settle or the body to surface?”

Giovanni wiped his chin. Things could get messy. He needed to close ranks. “Return to Bellagio. We can’t take him out of there. It’s too risky. So you’ll need to go inside for my answers. I want to be ahead of this fucking mess. Prepared. Take Carlo.”

“He’s too much of a hot head Gio, he will…”

“Take him. I don’t know what you’re walking into, and I can’t trust Lo with the truth. Not yet. You need a gun quicker than your own. You find out everything you can about Giuseppe and Lorenzo. I don’t give a shit how you do it, but you fucking do it!”

“Si.”

“Wait. Wait.” Giovanni threw his hands up in frustration. “We receive the shipment from the Irish in two days.”

“The designer, she’s up and operating after your orders. I’ve had my men keep tabs on the workers. A staff of about sixteen working out of three floors of the building, and they are there early every day and late in the evenings. None of them have ventured to the cellars. Have you worked out that detail?” Dominic asked.

“Contact Marsuvio. Tell him I want a building inspector to pay the ladies a visit, here. We need to minimize activity at that building until my shipment is secured then moved.”

“What reason should he give this time?” Dominic asked.

“Inform the women that they’ve broke some law. I don’t give a fuck. Flavio is close to finalizing the deals in Sicily. Until then we don’t need any distractions.”

Dominic gave another nod and left him to his thoughts. He could be wrong. His young protégé could be wrong. Still his gut said differently. Lost in his doubts, he returned to his room. He didn’t expect the scene that greeted him. Mira had taken a match to a pair of tall slender black candles in silver pedestals and lowered the lights in the room. The table was positioned outside on his balcony and the night air only licked at the flames, causing them to extend and grow brighter. She hadn’t changed out of the sexy wrap dress, and he was grateful.

“Welcome back. Just in time. Dinner.”

He closed the door and turned the lock. He told his men not to disturb him further, no matter the issue. The night was theirs.

Catalina had his favorite meals prepared for his return. Tonight would be the first night he dined in his room with someone special. Giovanni had to consider how many hard laid rules he’d broken since he met her. Starting with opening the doors to her boutique when he knew it didn’t serve his purposes. Now he’d have to manipulate her to get what he wanted. He regretted the lie between them. She blinked at him with the most considerate trusting eyes.

“I hope you don’t mind. I found the candles in your dressers when I started unpacking. I thought it would be nice to eat out here so I had them set the table for us. Your staff is nicer than the one at the Ritz,” she chuckled.

“I pay them well.”

The meal she delivered was of all his favorites. His mother’s recipe was the first course. The room smelled of memories of her. Good ones.

“Thank you for accepting my invitation, Bella. For allowing me these days and nights with you.”

“Will you always call me Bella? Is it my name from now on?” She walked around to her chair and glanced up at him from under her dark lashes. He wasn’t sure when he fixated on the name for her, but it was a natural fit. “Yes.” He nodded. She curled her mouth into a half-smile, and he knew she approved. She pointed at the bottle on the table. “This vino. It’s Chianti. Is it from your vineyard?”

Grasping the bottle by the neck he read the black label. “It is. Shall I?”

She nodded. He poured her half a glass and she laughed. “Wait. Are you trying to get me drunk?”

“I wouldn’t think of it.” He poured his wine next. “I need you sober and fully mine, tonight.”

He noticed how she looked at the smaller dish next to her plate. “We call it
gatò
di
patate.
”

“It looks like… um, a quiche.”

“Yes, think of a quiche. It has potato, egg, ham and cheese and is baked like a pie. It’s traditionally the starter my mother would have served for us. Catalina makes a good version. She always prepares it by hand the day she knows I’m returning. My sister is very spoiled, but she spoils me in return.”

“Did she cook all of this?”

“When Zia isn’t here, the staff does most of the cooking. Zia is the only woman in the house who won’t tolerate strangers preparing food for us. Her words, not mine. Personally I prefer a home cooked meal by the women in my family. Can you cook?” he asked. She blinked at him then nodded that she could. He felt a sense of relief. Modern women today avoided the kitchen as if it were forced servitude. He found love in a dish prepared for him by a woman who cared. He wanted to taste her cooking and more. He picked up a fork and scooped a mouthful. Mira leaned forward accepting the offering. She chewed with a smile on her face.

“Oh, it’s good. Love it.”

“And this.” He lifted the cover of the center dish. “It’s
spaghetti ai ricci
.”

“What are those chunks of meat in it?”

“Sea urchin.”

“Again with the sea urchin?”

“Have a taste. It’s far better than what you’ve had before. You’ll love it.”

She hesitated. He ate a sample first then scooped some for her. To his delight she gave it a try. She chewed with a small smile, and then her eyes stretched. “It tastes good. The sauce, it’s so sweet and tangy. Give me more?”

“Come here.”

The chair scooted back, and she came around the small table to him. He opened his arm for her to sit on his lap. He stared into her eyes insistent she do as he requested. Mira straddled him and the split to the front of her dress parted all the way up to her panties. She wrapped her arms around his neck, and her lips brushed his. He could taste the sauce on her lips. “How am I going to eat this way?” she chuckled looking down between them.

“Look at me.”

Her smile dimmed and she lifted her stare to meet his. “Stay.”

“I plan to.”

“No. Stay. Here. With me.”

Mira drew back, and her brows shot up in surprise. “I can’t stay here.”

“Of course you can. You said you were renting a hotel room while you look for a place to buy. I’m just outside of Napoli. I have more than enough space.”

“No. No. Giovanni. It’s generous but I wouldn’t impose. This is your family’s home.”

She tried to rise, but he kept a hand to her hip and forced her to stay. “I plan to spend the rest of the week convincing you why we fit.”

“Then ask to date me, not for me to move in.”

“Date, move in, what difference does that make to anyone when we both want the same thing?”

“I hate to sound like a broken record, but I’ve only known you for a few days. No one moves this fast.”

“I make my own rules. My father saw my mother and loved her on sight. They were together from that day forward. I’ve denied myself the love of a woman. Told myself it wasn’t needed. I want you.” He kissed her chin and his hand eased up to cup her right breast. He gave it a gentle squeeze. “I’m a man who normally gets his way.”

“Is that so?” she exhaled.

“You’re here now, aren’t you?” In their embrace, he could feel the rapid race of her beating heart.

“You have a point,” she smiled. He reached around her and scooped
patate
to his fork and fed her. She accepted the offering from his fork. Mira chewed staring into his eyes. When she swallowed he repeated the action, until she nearly ate half in silence. She let him take care of her without objection. It pleased him.