Ten Days in Tuscany (10 page)

“
Hmmm
. We have a problem.”

Gia opened her eyes and smiled as she met Nic’s intent stare. “You’ve run out of paint?” she asked, not sure if she was pleased or disappointed.

“No, your shirt is in the way of the bottom of the two
Gs
.” Nic’s grin was pure fun. “I need to do this properly.”

“So what will we do?” Gia licked her lips with the tip of her tongue as she looked at Nic’s bare chest in front of her. Sure enough each
G
had a long tail that curled around like a crab claw. She took great satisfaction in Nic’s soft groan as he stared at her mouth.

“I can’t lift your shirt over your head because the paint is still wet. That would ruin my fine work.” His voice was husky. “If I let your hands go, can I trust you not to run away?”

“I’d hate for you not to finish the job you’ve started.” Gia’s voice was just as low and husky as Nic’s. “How about you let me go, and I’ll pull my shirt down?”

Nic nodded, holding the brush high as Gia kept her gaze on his. He placed his other hand on the wall beside her head. She let the tip of her tongue rest on her lips as she held the bottom of her short T-shirt with her fingers. Gently she tugged it down until it began to slip over her skin. Nic’s eyes bored into hers as the soft fabric slipped lower and lower, slowly revealing her bare breasts. He held her eyes with his and didn’t look down until the soft cotton was pooled around her waist. Only then did he drop his gaze, and Gia straightened her shoulders as Nic’s sigh washed over her.

“Much better.” This time he let her hands stay loose, and Gia clenched her fists as Nic ran the brush down her right breast, slowly and gently in a long curl until it reached the tip of her nipple.

Gia had never experienced anything as erotic as the feel of the wet sable brush as it circled the areola of her breast. A touch as soft as a feather as he formed the letter, Nic’s attention was solely on her breast and the movement of the brush. Gia’s attention was fixed on his hand as the brush dipped lower. The final two letters were completed and Nic leaned back with a soft huff of satisfaction.

“Beautiful work, if I do say so.” He put the brush down on the small table beside them, and cool air rushed onto her skin as he moved his body away from hers. “But I guess you can’t see it, can you?”

Gia shook her head wordlessly. Her skin was hypersensitive to Nic’s touch, and she shivered as he cupped his hand around the back of her neck and pulled her closer to him. The warmth of his hand travelled down her back and swirled around until it burst into heat that radiated throughout her entire body. She caught her breath as his lips came closer to hers and finally took her mouth. His other hand was still on the wall beside her, and he didn’t touch her anywhere else. Only his mouth touched hers, leaving Gia trembling as his tongue danced with hers. Finally, he placed a last lingering kiss on her mouth and drew back, his breath brushing her still sensitive lips as he spoke.

“Do you have a mirror?”

“In my bedroom.”

…

Nic had held himself back from the minute Gia had interrupted him while he was painting. The instant he had turned around and seen her, desire had flared though him. Her nipples had stood out through her thin shirt and her softly parted lips were open invitingly. But most enticing had been her playfulness when she had teased him. The game he had punished her with had been more a punishment for him—painting her breast slowly when all he wanted to do was drop his head and take her breast between his lips had been torture.

Now he looked down at her. Her expression was bemused, and he was tempted to kiss her again, but instead he held out his hand.

“Take me there and you can see,” he said, as Gia put her paint-stained hand trustingly in his. “Please.”

Silently she led him into the bedroom, and he drank in the curves of her slender bare back. She’d dropped her shirt in the hallway. Her skin was flawless and the curve of her back as it reached her waist, enticing. He forced his gaze away from the sexy indentations at the base of her spine. He looked up and met her eyes in the mirror. Both of them were as dark-haired as the other, but while Nic’s hair was in a neat, short cut, Gia’s was a messy tangle of curls around her head. His mouth dried as he stood behind her and watched as she lifted her hand and placed her fingers above the still damp paint on her breast.

“
Coraggio
,” she whispered. “Yes, I will have courage.”

Nic lowered his head and placed his lips on her neck, and she trembled against him as he sucked on her skin. With a groan, he lifted his head slightly and murmured against her ear. “What do you want to do now? Do you need to sleep?” She leaned against him, and her bare skin rubbed against his chest. She arched her neck and reached back, lifting his hands and placing them on her breasts.

“Touch me.”

Nic needed no more invitation. He half-turned her around before lifting her in his arms. The bed was unmade, the blankets hanging over to one side. Nic pushed them aside with his leg and lowered Gia gently onto the bed. Her hair spread out on the white lace pillowcase in a black tangle, contrasting with the smudges of paint on her face. Her lips parted softly and the tip of her tongue appeared. It was the stuff of his dreams.

His need was so great, it was almost desperation, and he was overwhelmed by an urgent desire to take Gia without any of his usual preliminaries. He knew how to arouse a woman, but he also knew that she was ready for him. No gentle touching, no playful kissing was needed. He stood beside the bed and looked down at the woman lying in front of him. No artifice, no care about how she looked. Her hair was wild, paint covered one side of her face—Nic let the smile cover his—and the word on her breasts marked her as his. It was a shame it wasn’t permanent and would wash off.

For tonight, she was his and he would claim her. But he forced himself to go slowly. Sitting on the edge of the bed, he reached across and slid her loose pants down over her hips. Gia lifted her hips so they slid off easily. His breath caught in his throat as he realized she had nothing on beneath them. As he watched, Gia parted her legs in invitation. Nic lowered his head with a groan and his mouth was on her before he could think. His tongue found her center unerringly, and it was only seconds before Gia cried out. He slid his hand up to grasp her hips and kept sucking and licking as she climaxed.

“God, oh God.” Gia whimpered and her sweet scent surrounded him. He buried his face in her warmth as the ripple of her muscles slowed beneath his lips.

He lifted his head and she rolled away, opening the drawer beside the bed. Before he had realized what she was doing, she’d snapped the foil packet open. She sat up and reached for him, letting a little smile cross her lips as Nic groaned. She opened the button at the top of the jeans and held his eye as she undid the zipper. Nic did the rest; he stood and pulled them down and then lay beside her. Slowly she slid the condom over his erection, concentrating on firm but smooth movements as she took him in hand. When he was sheathed, she lay back on the pillow and opened her arms to him. Nic’s mouth met hers as he slid into her, taking care to support himself with his arms so the paint didn’t smudge. Their teeth and tongues clashed in a searing kiss as he moved, teasing her, taking her to the brink and pulling back again. When he lifted his head, she turned hers from side to side, her chest heaving as she gasped in deep breaths. His bare skin against hers, his heat deep inside her, she gave into the new orgasm that was building deep within her. He watched her, and she kept her eyes open as the waves of exquisite pleasure rolled over her, and she stared back into his deep blue eyes.

She opened her legs a little wider as his thrusts became stronger and lifted her hips off the bed to meet him. He stiffened when she wrapped her legs around him to take him even deeper, and Gia cried out with him as he followed her to his own release.

Chapter Eight

Bright sunlight shining on his face woke Nic with a start. The sun was high in the sky, and he looked around, but there was no clock in the room. Gia’s legs were entangled with his and she slept beside him, breathing softly through slightly parted lips. He lay there for a moment looking at her. Her black hair was spread on the pillow and her cheeks held a soft rosy flush. The white pillowcase was now a myriad of colors from her cheek. Just looking at her sent another surge of desire running rampant through his blood. He rolled away carefully, and she slept on without stirring. He lay back and put his hands behind his head and stared at the ceiling, wondering what the hell had hit him.

Two days—only two days—and this woman had him under her spell, and it worried him. This loss of self-control was unfamiliar to Nic. He couldn’t figure Gia out. She was an enigma. One minute she seemed shy and her lack of conviction frustrated him—the next, her vitality surfaced and she went for what she wanted with a ferocity that amazed him. From a quiet woman with her head bent, to a confident woman with a wit that made him laugh. And a touch that had given him pleasure for hours until she’d fallen asleep in his arms.

Before they’d ended up in bed, he’d painted all night with her in the studio, aware of her on one level but immersed in creating the best piece he had ever painted, as she’d worked silently across the room from him. Her passion had flared and she’d responded to him as
Nic
, not because of who he was or what he could give her. Her attraction to him had nothing to do with the Baldini name, and that pleased him. Problem was, how was
he
going to handle it? He needed to set things up so he could leave when the time came. No regrets, no ties, and no one who had a hold on him or his heart. He would never put himself in a place where he was vulnerable. His life plan was mapped out, and there was no place in it for a passionate black-haired artist with flashing eyes.

When she found out he was a Baldini, and that his discovery of her talent and launching her into the Florentine art world had secured—God he hoped he was right—his position on the Board, he had a feeling that the true Gia, that strong passionate woman, would have plenty more to say.

The guilt that settled in his chest was unfamiliar, but he pushed it away when his phone vibrated. He eased out of bed so he didn’t wake Gia, and searched for his phone, finding it in his jeans on the floor.

He frowned. Five missed calls from Antonio and two from his father.

Nic went back to the villa for a change of clothes, and he had time for a quick coffee before he’d head for the
autostrada
to Florence. He looked around the villa. Even though it was beautiful, and decorated in bright colors, it was empty…and soulless. Gia’s old stone cottage was full of life and color. Noise and vibrancy. He grinned as he imagined her walking in here. This place would come alive. He’d take down the paintings and line the entry walls with her landscapes…

Whoa, I’m on vacation and I have a problem that needs dealing with
. Nic shook his head and forced his thoughts to the problem at hand. Antonio had been furious on the phone, and Nic had calmed him.

“I’m on my way.”

The manager of one of his charities had taken ill, and when Antonio had been looking at the accounts, he had noticed a significant discrepancy. The trusted manager had been siphoning funds into his own account, and if he hadn’t taken ill, it would have been months before the fraud would have come to light.

And not only that, Antonio told him he’d heard a whisper that the announcement of the new Board member might be decided sooner, and that set Nic’s planning for Gia’s exhibition into overdrive. He switched his phone to hands free and called Ben, his PA, and within an hour, before he had crossed the
Ponte alla Carraia
to the city, most of the logistics had been decided. Ben was on it and the invitations would go out tonight. First ones to the trustees of the Uffizi. A simple parchment invitation with gold writing…with no hint about Gia or her paintings. Only her name, as an enticement.

Nic Baldini presents Gia Carelli.
God, he’d have to make sure she didn’t see any of them until the show was over. Nic knew that his name as the organizer would guarantee attendance by the elite and the critics. Discovering Gia and introducing her to the art world of the city would guarantee his position.

Antonio took a step back and stared at Nic when he pushed open the door of his Florence office. Nic took a deep breath as the familiar thrill ran through him. Narrowing his eyes, he glanced up at the screen in the corner that was always tuned in to the stock market and nodded with satisfaction as the figures flashed across the screen.

Good. The Baldini stocks were performing well. He grinned ruefully.
And had continued to do so without me watching constantly.

I haven’t looked at the market for forty-eight hours.
Maybe his mother’s idea of there being more to life than work had something to it.

“My God, look at you. I’ll have to go to Tuscany for a holiday. How long have you been there?” Antonio shook his head. “You look like you’re already rested and ready to take the business world by storm.”

“Just a few days.” Nic grinned at his little brother. He wasn’t about to share how amazing those days had been.

“What have you been doing? Found a golf course?”

Nic shook his head. Antonio thought he’d gone there to look at the renovations. “Just…sampling the local delicacies.”

Oh, yes.

“How’s the old place look?”

“Fantastic. The builders did a great job. And you should see the decor.” Nic was pleased Antonio had changed the subject. He wanted to tell him all about Gia, and how wonderful she was, but not yet. “It’ll be ready for the first group of artists to go there in a couple weeks.”

Antonio grinned at him and squeezed his shoulder in a rare show of brotherly affection. “You’re a good man, Nic. Mamma would have been pleased with what you did with your share of her trust fund. She always said you were the benevolent one.”

Nic grinned back at his brother. “Do you remember that time she took us down to that village? I’ve been thinking about it these past few days.”

Antonio frowned and shook his head. “Not sure. She was always taking us on an adventure somewhere. It’s a wonder either of us ever got an education. Which village do you mean?”

“The one where I got my tattoo?” Nic tapped his chest.

“Oh yes, that was the first time I’d ever seen a real gypsy.” Antonio laughed. “I was expecting a caravan in the middle of a field, but she was quite a well-groomed woman in an old villa. She read my palm, too.”

“I never forgot my reading. I don’t know if it was the impetus that gave me the idea for starting up the artist’s retreat, or whether she was a fortune teller who really could predict the future. But she’d said I’d be involved in charities.”

Nic frowned as Antonio stared over his shoulder and muttered. “I hope it was a coincidence, not that I believe in that mumbo jumbo shit, anyway.”

“Why, what did she say to you?”

Antonio shrugged. “She told me that I wouldn’t be happy until I had experienced a tragedy in my life.”

“Pretty crap thing to say to a teenager.”

“Yeah, but I didn’t it let it bother me.”

Nic narrowed his eyes. “Doesn’t look like it.”

“Come on, we’ve got work to do. Unless you’re not going back to the villa? I bet you’ve had enough vacation already, I’d say, knowing you, Mr. Workaholic? Keen to get back to work? Here to stay?”

Nic crossed to the desk. “Oh, I’m going back. I might even extend my ten days if we sort this mess out quickly.”

Antonio’s brow wrinkled as he picked up the file from the desk. “I don’t believe it. Knowing you, you’re working from the office at the villa.”

Nic simply smiled. He knew he was detail-oriented—and controlling—when it came to his charity work and the marble business, and it blew him away that he hadn’t really given either of them much thought until Antonio had called him. All of his energy had gone into launching Gia.
And being in her bed.

Hell, if he didn’t get her out of his head, they’d never sort this mess out this afternoon; he wanted to go back to Castellina.

“Did you get any other calls?” Antonio glanced at him curiously as he pulled up a report on the large computer screen on Nic’s desk, and Nic leaned forward, running his finger down the screen.

“There were some missed calls from our father.” He stopped at a large transaction. “I see what you mean.”

“So, did he tell you he’s coming over to the office?”

“No, I didn’t return his call. I’m on vacation, remember?”

“Jesus, Nic. I don’t know what it is with you and Papa. Can’t you make an effort?”

Nic swung around to face his brother.

“An effort? Why should I? Ever since Mamma died, he’s treated me as though I don’t exist, unless it’s to criticize something I’ve done.”

Antonio stared at him. “You’re too hard on him.”

“That’s bullshit and you know it. The only reason he’ll be coming over now is to gloat because one of
my
projects is in trouble.”

“You know it’s because you are so much like Mamma, don’t you? You have the same eyes and that same way of seeing things. I see the way he looks at you when you are not watching. His grief is still tearing him apart.”

Nic let out a bitter laugh. “Grief? He never even mentions her. He’s moved on.”

Antonio shook his head. “I don’t need a gypsy fortune teller to explain why you work so hard. You’ve been trying to prove yourself to Papa ever since he wouldn’t let you go to the Academy.” He lowered his voice. “And to yourself.”

Nic ignored his brother’s words. “Show me what you’ve found.”

They spent a couple of hours going over the online transactions, and their father arrived just as they were winding up. Being such a high profile company meant the bank would take a call from the Baldinis anytime of the day or night, especially when the call was made by the senior Baldini.

“Nic.” He nodded briefly and then ignored his eldest son as he made the call.

“Have you called the police?” Nic frowned at Antonio as he scanned the transactions. “It’s not a huge amount, but it’s still fraudulent.”

“Do you know Livio’s story?” His father spoke as he helped himself to a coffee from Nic’s coffee maker.

“No, I’ve lost touch with the staff here in Florence since I took over at Carrara. Why?”

“His youngest son has cancer, and he took the money to help with the medical costs.”

Nic lifted his head from the screen and stared at his father. “You’re joking? Why the fuck didn’t he come to us for help?”

“He was scared you’d refuse to help him.”

Nic shook his head in disbelief. “Of course I would’ve helped him out.”

His father stared back at him. “He sees you as a hard businessman. Like everyone does. He wouldn’t even have considered that you would listen.”

Nic slammed his hand down on the desk. “That’s bullshit and you know it.” Hell, he donated
millions
to children’s hospitals.

“Is it, Nic?” His father’s eyes were fixed on him.

“Maybe I won’t be a part of it soon. I’m thinking of changing direction. I’ll leave it to the two of you to look after the export contracts.”

“And what are you going to do?” His father’s gaze didn’t waver from his. He hadn’t noticed before how deep the wrinkles had become around his father’s eyes.

Antonio stood between them as father and son eyeballed each other. Always the peacemaker. “Like I said before, Nic. You’re a good man. It’s in your nature to help people out. We know that. A lot of people wouldn’t expect that. They just see the businessman who works so hard.”

“Set up an appointment with him next week.”

“And the police?”

Nic waved his hand dismissively. “No, of course not. We won’t press charges.”

He managed to keep the conversation civil before he left, but Antonio’s words stayed in his head.
How did Gia see him?
Nic frowned as he turned off the freeway heading for Castellina. It was about time he told her who he was. Once he got the show organized he would come clean. Then once he got the position on the board he would decide if he needed Baldini Enterprises. He didn’t need the money. Maybe he didn’t need to be part of the family business. Maybe he didn’t need to be part of the Baldini family, either.

…

Gia woke in the early afternoon to an empty bed. It was Sunday and she didn’t have to work tonight—the one night of the week she had at home. She sat up and pushed her hair back from her face. Slipping from the bed, she put on her old glasses and grimaced when she saw the state of her grandmother’s lace pillowcases. The once-white lace was smeared with blue and yellow paint. She grabbed the white silk robe that always hung over the bedpost. There was no sign of Nic in the studio, but the painting he had worked on was still there. Gia smiled; he was getting to know her well. A note was stuck to the side of the easel. Nic must have known this was the first place she would go to.

Back this afternoon. Call me when you wake up, Sleeping Beauty. I have a show to organize.

His writing, and the cell number which followed the message, were written in a beautiful scrolling script just like the tattoo on his chest. Gia drew a quick breath as she remembered how he had painted the same word on her breasts last night. She looked down; it was still there.

Moving her eyes back to the easel, she took a step back and let out a soft gasp as she looked at the picture in front of her. Mauve moonlight bathed her courtyard in a wash of gentle color, and she sat on a chair beside a garden. Nic had painted her face in shadow with no expression apparent. Her body was relaxed, and he had clothed her in a white peasant dress, innocent, yet sexy, as it dropped off her shoulder. He had painted her skin glowing in the moonlight. It was a gorgeous country scene. Serene, peaceful, and beautiful. It was full of
him
… His calm nature spoke to her from the canvas. His style was very different from hers, soft colors, where hers were harsh and strident, precise and considered strokes where hers were bold. It was a controlled creation. She grinned, very much like his character.
But he is good…very, very good.