I’m okay. We should be back tomorrow night. Keep me posted if something happens.
Alice jammed the phone in her pocket. Tonight the big party would take place—when Viola would announce who she would be partnering up with, including who would get the paintings. The party theme was the color red, and men and women were expected to wear it. Lorenzo had promised to take her shopping for a super slinky dress, one she probably would never wear again after tonight. Her heart missed a beat. A lot of things wouldn’t take place after tonight. Kissing him. Making love to him—hard and fast, or long and languorously.
Yup. Reality would come knocking. Whether she wanted it to or not, one thing was for sure: she couldn’t go with him to New York. She was starting to care for him more than was smart, and the man just wasn’t the same wavelength.
The fact that Lorenzo was hotter, richer, and waaaay better in bed than any guy she’d ever dated didn’t help. With an accent that melted her underwear on the freaking spot. The G spot.
“Everything okay?” Viola asked, reminding her she was not alone.
Alice smiled. The birds flew from the small trees to the feeders hanging from the netted ceiling. Dozens of them, all different colors and sizes.
“I’ve always loved birds. My ex-husband didn’t enjoy them as pets. After the divorce, I created this sanctuary for them.”
Alice nodded, biting the inner part of her cheek. She and Cara had found Nibbles at a bird rescue place, to which captivity was a last resort.
“Why didn’t he like them?”
“Carlo always said birds should be free. I’m sure he thought the same of himself, as he started to sleep with my granddaughter’s nanny during a family vacation in Greece,” Viola said. Were there tears brimming her eyes?
To hell with formality. Alice took Viola’s hand and gave it a light squeeze. “I’m sorry.”
A smile crept onto Viola’s lips, but before it broadened, she disengaged her hand from Alice’s and gave it a small tap. “I mean, look around you. They are sheltered; they have premium food, fruit, plenty of space. They’re not suffering.”
“Aren’t they?” she asked gently, pretty sure they weren’t talking about birds anymore.
Viola wiped a tear from the corner of her eye and blinked a couple times.
“I’m pathetic, aren’t I? An old woman with too much time on her hands. I dragged people from across the world to come to my place. You think it’s just because of my assets? I like to tell myself it is. That I’m okay being alone.” Her voice trailed off.
A deep wrinkle formed on Viola’s forehead, and she tilted her head to the side as if the memory had just slapped her.
“Do you miss him?” Alice asked.
Viola’s eyes searched for hers. “Every single moment. Carlo was a man full of life, and he could tell me the sweetest things out of the blue.”
“You talk like he’s long gone.”
Viola rubbed her forehead and sighed. “I don’t believe the man I loved fully existed. Which is why he was so perfect. I met him when I was too young to know better. He was dashingly handsome, and all the girls wanted him.”
Alice leaned against a bench. The tweeting from the birds fell in the background as Viola continued with a strained voice. “He loved to party. I did, too, but not as much as he. I thought he would change once he settled down. He would be happy with just one person. Me.”
A lump lodged in Alice’s throat. It was like she had entered the wrong room at the movie theater, but she could no longer leave. She lifted her hand to her neck, willing the uneasiness away. A tiny sparrow bathed in a huge birdbath that put her tub back home to shame. “People don’t change, do they?” she said. God. She should know.
Viola shook her head. “Not unless it comes from within. Men, especially… I tried to pigeonhole him for thirty years. He would never fit in a hole that small.”
You can’t have everything. “Weren’t you ever happy together?”
“Not enough for him. That is my favorite bird.” Viola pointed at the blue throat nibbling a pellet from the feeder. “That one is self-sufficient. He’s learned to eat all by himself, and he doesn’t want to interact with the others as much.”
A weight sat on Alice’s chest. She walked to the bird and stretched out her hand, holding some food, and soon several birds crowded her hands, their tiny feet scratching her skin.
“That bird is a survivor,” Viola said. “The butler found him in the front yard a couple weeks ago with a broken wing. We wanted to nurse him back to health, but nature is a wonderful mystery. He did it all on his own.”
“Maybe he’ll start gathering with the others soon enough.”
Viola narrowed her eyes. “Maybe.”
“Maybe you should find a boy toy of your own.”
“Wake up to someone half my age?” She chuckled and waved her off. “Don’t think so, dear. Not my style.”
“How about a gentleman your age, someone nice to wake up to? It can be fun,” Alice said, more to herself than to Viola. Hadn’t it been wonderful to wake up with her limbs deliciously tangled in Lorenzo’s? A tremor went through her as if her body caught up with the memory faster than her brain.
“You’re biased, a woman in love.” Viola patted her hand and shrugged her shoulders. In love? No. She was in lust, yes. Recklessly, dangerously in lust. Falling for Lorenzo—really falling—would be one of the worst decisions she could make. A mistake she couldn’t afford.
Viola was right. People, let alone guys, didn’t change overnight. Not for anyone. Joshua had said from the get-go he wasn’t after anything serious. Because she had watched one too many Drew Barrymore rom-coms, she thought she could make him change. Then she latched on to him like a newborn to a breast.
She shuddered. Thankfully with Lorenzo things would be very, very different.
“Wow,” she said as they entered Via Camerelle, Capri’s most upscale strip mall.
A wave of satisfaction washed through Lorenzo. Ever since that plane ride, when she had gorged over the services of first class, he had taken a personal interest in her reaction to the luxury lifestyle. She wasn’t tainted like Kristin, who had been raised in wealth and often belittled products and services she believed weren’t up to her standards. Alice loved new experiences, and she also wasn’t a shrinking violet who was intimidated by such a different world.
She enjoyed it, and often left him wondering what else she would enjoy. A weekend getaway in Prague? A special chocolate pudding laced with real gold leaves from that French restaurant he enjoyed? A shopping spree on Madison Avenue with his black American Express? Maybe that one he could include as a bonus if she moved to New York City with him. Of course, all the other current fringe benefits would be off the table. He couldn’t play house with her with Cara right there. Things would get messy, and his daughter deserved better. Damn. Alice deserved better, too.
He opened the door to the Dolce & Gabbana shop and gestured for her to enter. “Do you want to give this one a go?”
“Well, why not?” She winked.
A coiffed brunette greeted them, her smile expanding when she assessed him. She probably recognized his thousand-dollar outfit of casual Bermuda shorts and a linen polo shirt. Even informality cost money, he mused. Money he was happy to spend.
“Good morning. How may I help you?”
“We’re looking for a red dress,” he said in Italian.
The sales clerk’s eyes fell on Alice, and she drew back. A rehearsed smile dented her cheeks. “Of course,” she said in English. “I’m Bianca. Nice to meet you.”
“Alice.” She shook her hand.
“Would you like to browse some ties, sir?” Bianca gestured to the men’s section across the room. Lorenzo was used to larger stores, but since this was an island, even the high-end brands had to compromise. Not on the luxury, though.
Another salesperson acknowledged him, but he hoped a wave was enough to keep the skinny guy from coming over and chatting. Without fuss, he picked up
a few ties, one of them a burgundy red. The color was a tad bold for his taste but would come in handy for the party. He had considered ignoring the color request altogether, but he couldn’t risk pissing Viola off just before she announced who she would be supporting.
Me. She will be supporting me. If he didn’t nail the deal, then all of this would have been for nothing—the trip, the fake engagement. Alice. His stomach clenched. He searched for her, his body spinning around as if he was a freaking dog and responding to scent.
Porca miseria. He needed this attraction to her as much as he needed a third ball. His gaze landed on her talking to Bianca who held a dress. Strange. Didn’t she want to try it on?
“How’s it going?”
A shade of pink spread across Alice’s cheeks. She shuffled from one foot to another, and he immediately frowned. “I…they don’t have my size. It’s okay.” Alice waved it off. “No big deal.”
“Can you call another store and have it delivered?” he asked Bianca.
Bianca lifted her shoulders. “I apologize, but ten is the largest size we carry.”
Alice let out a sigh. “I get it. I’m a real woman and not a stick figure.”
“I don’t mean to be rude. I’m sorry.” It was Bianca’s turn to blush.
Alice lifted her hand to her lips, probably realizing what she’d just said. “I was rude, actually. Sorry. You’ve been really nice. I understand. It’s the industry. Honestly, if I were back home and had the fabric handy, I could make adjustments and whip something up in a jiffy. By the way, I would love to come up with a high-end brand to cater to curvilicious women and…” Alice continued to speak as Bianca nodded.
She was rambling. The way she did when she was nervous. Shit. He should have realized before bringing her here that for some stupid reason designer labels had size restrictions. They didn’t cater to women who had voluptuous curves that should come with a warning sign.
He rubbed his temple. What to do? The last thing he wanted was for her to think she was out of place. His Alice was gorgeous, with a body capable of giving him an instant, scorching response. And she should look every bit the part on one of the most important nights of his life. A night when he would finish locking up a door to his past—and hide a secret that could threaten to take away everything. She had helped him achieve that, and she deserved to dress accordingly.
“We’ll take it,” he said, and both women faced him at the same time. “Do you have any other size?”
“We may have a two available.”
“Great. We’ll take that one, too. And the ties I picked.”
“All right, then.” Bianca disappeared with the dress on her hand, no doubt questioning his decision, but she didn’t let it show.
Alice slapped her hand at her waist. “Is that some sort of fashion math? Size ten plus two equals twelve? It’s not how it works, Lorenzo.”
“I’m buying the second one so you can make adjustments on the first one.”
“Why?”
“Because I believe you can. Write down any tools you think you may need to—as you said—whip up the dress.” She had talent, didn’t she? Maybe this challenge would bring out the stylist in her and would get her noticed at the party. If that’s what she loved to do, why not give it a shot?
A smile that he didn’t deserve in a million years brightened her gorgeous face. “You’re buying a three thousand dollar dress so I can shred it and use the fabric for the other, equally expensive one?”
“Exactly. You’ll do a great job, and you’ll be the sexiest woman out there tonight.”
She erased the distance between them and kissed him on the cheek. “Thank you. This is amazing.”
He was about to crack a joke about her thanking him later, but she squared her shoulders and stepped back. A gleam flickered in her eyes. God, she was beautiful. His fingers itched with a need to touch her, to hover over her neck. Did they really have to go to lunch after this?
She drew back. “Why are you looking at me like that? Oh, I know. Maybe you’re thinking I get to pick matching shoes and a handbag, too? You know, only the best for the best.”
A chuckle floated up his throat. “That’s exactly what I was thinking.”
“Delicious.” She slipped out her tongue and caught a bit of the Carbonara sauce that dripped from the calamari. They sat across from each other in an outdoor bistro, and every time she shifted in her seat, her legs rubbed on his. Accidentally? At this point, he didn’t care. He just wished the damn linen napkin was longer and the table larger than the round bistro type.
“So are you, tesoro.”
She put her plate to the side and dabbed her lips on the napkin. “I’m sure you say that to all the women.”
“Nope.”
She brought a glass of red wine to her mouth. “Well, thanks. You are pretty edible yourself.”
“Watch it, Alice. When we get back, I might just slam you against the wall and whisk you away to Orgasmland.”
“You say it like it’s a punishment.”
“Don’t you need time for your dress alteration?”
“I’m a great multitasker.”
“How come a great multitasker like you isn’t married?” he asked, and a second later froze. Why the hell did he care? He didn’t believe in marriage. But she acted like she did. Somehow it mattered to her, and an inexplicable part of him was interested in what interested her. Asking about it didn’t imply anything.
She leaned back in her chair, arms crossed. “I don’t know. Last guy I dated, I thought he had white-picket potential. But turns out I was wrong.”
“Why? What did he do to you?”
“He bailed when he realized I was interested in more than just casual dating.”
“Are you? It seems you have your hands full with your family. You’re contemplating turning down New York because of them. What makes you think you’d have time for the responsibilities and commitment of marriage?”
“First of all, I’m not contemplating refusing. I have already declined your offer.”
He winked at her. Time to sell. “Even if I throw in a nice shopping spree? On Madison Avenue?”
“Why are you so determined to keep me around? I mean, especially after you’ve seen me naked. In my mind there is no way we can work together in the long run. It would be beyond weird.”
Would it? He had bedded women before and occasionally run into them, and even worked with them. What would make the situation with Alice so different? Sure, memories from their time together would remain for a bit, but nothing that pragmatism and time wouldn’t crush. “Maybe at first. You just compartmentalize it, and see it for what it is,” he said, and held his breath, anticipating her reply. Who was he kidding? He’d need a lobotomy to forget all the wonderful memories he’d made with her. But the alternative was even worse. There was no way in hell he was ready to let go of Alice Sommers.
The waiter brought them the check, and he handed him his credit card. All the while, she studied him, her expression sobering. With brows knitted and eyes darkening to a rich cocoa, Alice was onto him. “Why do you want those paintings so badly?”
He rubbed the back of his neck. Why was she curious about it now? “That’s quite the change of subject.”
“It dawned on me,” she said, reading his mind. “You never want to talk about it, and the other day you dodged my question. I saw the way you looked at that art. It’s not just business.”
The waiter came back, and Lorenzo added a generous tip and scribbled his signature. “It doesn’t concern you.”
“If I’m to help you get them, it does. You know why I need the money. It’s high time I knew why you want those paintings.”
He leaned forward. “If I tell you, will you consider New York City?”
She cleared her throat. “I can’t lie to you.”
“Just tell me you will try it,” he said, reaching for her hand across the table.
Instead of withdrawing her hand from his, she just stared at him
. “Maybe.”
Progress. “I’ll take maybe.”
Chapter Nine
“Okay,” Alice muttered, even though she was pretty sure both of them knew that wasn’t the case. Still. After he had thrown the idea to compartmentalize their fling at her face, she realized she needed some control, too. Why give it all to him? At the end of this weekend, no doubt he would get over her in a New York minute.
Pushing back his wrought-iron chair, he rose to his feet, and she did the same. “Let’s walk.”
They strolled in silence until the swarm of tourists and pedestrians lessened. A stone statue of someone important, no doubt, occupied the middle of a cute plaza, where a gorgeous water fountain sprayed into the colorful flowers.
“Spill it, Lorenzo.” Before you change your mind.
He glanced both ways before giving her his undivided attention. “The artist was my father.”
“What?” She drew back, trying to remember the snippets of information Viola had given her about the man.
His jaw clenched. “I changed my name to my mother’s surname.”
“Why?”
“Because he had a past that could jeopardize all I sacrificed for.”
“Such as?”
“He was a drunk with a penchant for prostitutes.”
She rolled her eyes. “Weren’t all the artists like that back in the day?” Hell, she didn’t have to time travel. Lots of celebrities, musicians, even politicians would fit into the profile today.
He let out a sigh. “He had ties to an extremist terrorist group. In the world we live today, do you think that would be good for me? For anyone?”
Of course not. She chewed on her lower lip, unsure of what to say. “What kind of ties?”
“Some Italian extremists. I can’t tell you for sure, but I wouldn’t be surprised if some of the money funded for their attempts to throw off the government was provided by a Middle Eastern group.”
“You are not your father.”
“No. But he took me to a couple meetings with him when I was a kid, even though I had no idea what the hell was going on. If this whole thing leaks, it could destroy me and Cara.” There was an edge to his voice. Fear?
A Weekend of Misbehaving Page 11