Swept Away by the Venetian Millionaire

by Nina Singh

  He remained silent, waiting for her to continue.

  “Not all of us have what it takes to become world-renowned artists, Vito. Being able to appreciate beauty and someone else’s talent doesn’t mean one has any of her own. Some of us just need to find a way to make a living and provide for ourselves.”

  Ah, no doubt she’d been told she didn’t have said talent. Most likely by the family who took her in. Or perhaps some overbearing professor whose own failings clouded his judgment. Maybe both theories were true.

  “Clearly you don’t have to worry about earning a daily living,” she added. “That would make you the exception to most of the planet’s population.”

  He tilted his head in acquiescence. “I’ve been lucky enough to have chosen well how to invest what I earned from my commissions. Both in real estate and the financial markets.”

  “Most people aren’t quite that lucky, Vito.”

  “I don’t mean to overstep, cara. I’m simply curious about you.”

  She sighed. “You’re right. I’m sorry. It’s just... I did contemplate studying a more creative subject. I particularly liked an introductory art history class I took. I remember poring over the textbook. Particularly the pages on the European Renaissance. Showed it to Grandmama. I think that’s when she first realized how much I’d love to see all the magnificent art in Europe.”

  He’d been right in his assumption. And judging by the longing look on Maya’s face as she discussed the class from her student days, she still thought about her choice often.

  “What happened?”

  She gave a small shrug. “Nothing. That was the last of it. More sensible minds prevailed. The university didn’t have a terribly large art department. And I didn’t see enough of a future in such a field of study to do anything else about it.”

  What a shame. Maya seemed to have missed her true calling in life and appeared to have ignored a genuine passion in order to appease more “sensible” minds. And to pay back some sort of debt she felt she owed. To the very people who should have loved her without condition. He knew nothing of her family, but something told him she’d taken on the burden solely on her own volition.

  She picked up her fork again with a sudden shake of her head. “That’s enough about me. What about you?”

  Vito suspected her desire to shift the conversation toward him was less about her curiosity and more of an attempt to change the subject. Maya was clearly uncomfortable discussing her missed opportunities.

  He could relate.

  “What would you like to know?” Hard to believe he was opening himself up to her questions. But turnabout was fair play, wasn’t it? He’d opened this Pandora’s box and didn’t have the right to shut it when it was her turn.

  “Tell me about your family. Leo seems quite charming.”

  Despite the lighthearted innocence of her words, Vito felt a sudden spear of dislike for his cousin. So Maya found him charming.

  “He charmed one of the most beautiful women in Italy into marrying him. Lynetta is too good for him by half.”

  She smiled at his answer. “Despite your words, I can tell by your voice that you two are close. Your tone holds true affection.”

  And she’d called him observant.

  “What about your parents?”

  “They’ve retired and live in Sweden. I see them once or twice a year.”

  “Who else?”

  Vito couldn’t help the smile that creased his lips. “Then there’s Nonna.”

  “Your grandmother?”

  He nodded. “Yes. On our paternal side. Leo and I don’t see eye to eye on much. But we both agree she’s a force of nature.” A sudden wish that Maya would be able to meet his grandmother surprised him. He had no doubt the two would get along fabulously. “We’re heading out to see her tomorrow, as a matter of fact. A two-day birthday celebration as she turns eighty-five. Though you’d never guess. She’s as active and sprightly as a twenty-year-old.”

  “You’re lucky to have such a close family.”

  Did that mean she didn’t feel particularly close to the family who’d adopted her? In her brief discussion of them earlier, she’d mainly referred to her relatives with a sense of gratitude. That had to be a terrible burden to bear as one was growing up.

  “Close can often mean meddling and just plain annoying.”

  “He says again with yet another smile,” she quipped, smiling herself. “Meddling and annoying would be worth it, to have such loving people who care for you.” The longing in her voice tugged at his chest.

  Vito started to reach for her hand across the table but he was interrupted by another server carrying yet more steaming bowls of pasta. Just as well, he thought, leaning back in his chair.

  The less he touched Maya Talbot, the better for his well-being.

  * * *

  “I know I’ll never forget this night, Vito,” Maya stated by way of conversation an hour after they’d finished their dinner. They were back up on deck. The galleon was on its way back to its port in Venice. She wanted to thank him for accompanying her. But the words didn’t seem adequate. Besides, how many times could she thank the man for coming to her rescue in one way or another?

  And she could no longer try to ignore the awareness that he evoked within her. The way he’d looked at her during dinner had made her insides quiver. Now, standing next to him in the moonlight in the crisp Venetian air had her senses in overdrive. His closeness sent a shiver down her spine.

  Vito mistook her visible shudder for a chill. Without a word, he shrugged off his jacket and draped it over her shoulders. Maya snuggled into the fabric. It smelled of him, that heady mix of sandalwood, mint and man that had been tickling her nose all evening. The scent that had made it difficult to resist the urge to lean into him and inhale of it deeply.

  “I’m glad you enjoyed yourself, cara.”

  Cara. She liked it when he used the Italian endearment for her. It would be one of the many things she would miss about him once this fairy-tale evening was over.

  For it was nearly over.

  In fact, her time in Venice and with Vito was coming to an end. The thought that she’d be on her way on the rest of her tour sent a deep sadness through her heart. How was the rest of her trip supposed to compare to what she’d experienced here in this magical city?

  For that matter, how was she to return to her bland, boring reality in a couple of weeks when she arrived back in Boston?

  “There’s a term the Americans use...” Vito disrupted her thoughts. “I believe it’s something along the lines of I’ll give you a penny if you tell me what you’re thinking.”

  Maya chuckled. “Close enough, Signor Rameri. I was just thinking of the past few days. And how spectacular they’ve been.”

  Hopefully, Vito hadn’t caught the small hitch in her voice, the one that came from the knowledge that the end of this magic was near. In many ways, she almost wished she’d never set foot in Venice. Though she’d cherish this time spent with Vito for the rest of her days, her heart would break every time she thought of what she’d had for just a few short days in his company.

  To think, all these months she’d thought she’d been in love. It was clear now, she’d simply been going through the motions.

  Vito leaned over and pointed toward the city skyline. “Look at how stunning the cathedral is at night, the way it’s lit up. Every structure around it serves simply as a backdrop to its splendor.”

  Hard as she tried, Maya couldn’t really focus on the beauty that sat before her in the distance. Vito’s shoulder brushed against hers.

  She cleared her throat and grasped at some semblance of an appropriate response.

  “Our visit to St. Mark’s seems so long ago.” Despite the truth of her statement, she remembered every detail of the previous afternoon. Including the questions that had been nagging at h
er. She took a chance on voicing one of those questions. What was there to lose at this stage of the game?

  “Our tour guide that day, Angelo...” She paused, summoning some courage at the way Vito stiffened next to her at the mention of the young man. Still, she continued. “He seemed to know a lot about your career.”

  “I’m an artist in residence in the city. It isn’t particularly noteworthy that an art student has heard of me.” He shrugged but the gesture didn’t quite catch the aura of nonchalance Maya was certain he was trying to project.

  There was more to her question, more that she was trying to get at. He had to know it. “Angelo also had some very interesting theories about you. Your potential retirement, in particular.”

  Vito dropped his head to look down at the water below. “He was just speculating. People around here tend to do that about my career. It’s quite irritating.”

  Maya ignored the insinuation that her own questioning was irritating him, as well. “Was he right?”

  “About my retirement?”

  Maya nodded, recalling the young man’s words. “It seems that he was the only one of his peers who thought you were just in a temporary lull.”

  “I suppose that makes him right. It’s true that I’m having a bit of a dry spell, that’s all. I have no intention of rushing past it, however. Nothing is pulling at me enough to make my way back to my workroom.”

  She could have dropped the matter at that point; his explanation was reasonable enough. On the surface. But in for a penny, in for a pound. “Does your dry spell have anything to do with losing your wife?”

  His noticeable cringe made her want to somehow yank the words back into her mouth, to find a way to undo uttering them. She had no right to pick at the scab of his wound this way.

  He must miss her terribly; the pain emanating from him made that abundantly clear. If there was a way to somehow take that pain away, to ease his anguish, Maya would have happily provided it.

  But she couldn’t bring his love back. Nothing could.

  “It’s been over three years since her accident,” Vito said. His voice was surprisingly flat, as if he were spouting some meaningless statistic.

  “It takes more than three years to lessen such pain.”

  He nodded slowly, his gaze still focused on the bright lights of the approaching city.

  “Indeed it does. Particularly when the pain is so intricately intertwined with guilt for one’s role in causing said pain.”

  “It’s natural to feel some responsibility after a tragedy—”

  He cut her off before she could continue. “Oh, but I do bear the responsibility. It’s so much more than just a feeling on my part.”

  Maya’s mouth went dry at the implication of his words. Vito made it sound as if he’d had a direct hand in his wife’s accident. His hands clenched into tight fists over the railing. “I don’t understand.”

  “It isn’t terribly complicated,” he answered, his voice rasping and thick. “See, if she hadn’t married me, Marina would still be alive and well.”

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  EVEN AFTER THEY’D docked and disembarked, Maya still hadn’t quite found her voice. She’d been afraid to say anything after Vito made his stunning declaration. So she’d stayed silent, giving him the time and opportunity to clarify or explain.

  So far, he hadn’t.

  Nor did he seem inclined to do so, Maya noticed, as he helped her step off the boat and onto the wooden boardwalk.

  This was all wrong. It was their last night together; their time spent in each other’s company couldn’t be ending on such a mysterious and loaded note. Maya placed a gentle hand on his arm as they approached the center of the square. Even under the current circumstance, the heat of his skin under his silk shirt caused a warm sensation to travel up her arm. Maya still wore his tuxedo jacket.

  “Vito, I’d really like to talk.”

  He rubbed a hand down his face. “About what I said on the boat regarding my wife’s accident.”

  She nodded, but they didn’t get a chance to continue the conversation. A female voice suddenly called through the night air.

  “Vito!”

  Maya turned to see a tall, statuesque woman in a flowing white lace spring dress approaching the two of them, her arms outstretched and a wide smile gracing her strikingly pretty face. Hard on her heels was Leo. For his part, Vito’s cousin seemed quite surprised to see them.

  Vito’s quiet groan wasn’t low enough that she didn’t hear it. He was far from thrilled to see these two.

  The other couple reached them seconds later. The lady threw her arms around Vito’s neck and he returned her embrace with one of his own. There was no hint of flirtation or attraction. Simply genuine affection.

  This had to be Leo’s wife.

  “What a surprise to see you here, cousin.” Leo spoke in English. “And with Maya by your side.” He eyed the two of them up and down.

  “A bit dressed up, aren’t you?”

  Lynetta didn’t let them answer. “This must be the lovely American lady Leo’s been telling me about.” She jabbed her husband playfully in the ribs. “You didn’t mention how pretty she was.”

  Coming from someone who looked the way she did, that was quite the compliment.

  “Very glad to meet you,” Maya said, extending her hand. But Lynetta ignored it. Instead, she threw her arms around Maya’s shoulders and planted a kiss on each cheek.

  “I’m so happy we ran into you before you left our beautiful city.” Lynetta’s accent, though subtle, lent another layer of charisma to her ample charm.

  She crooked her hand through Maya’s arm. “Come, let’s walk a bit.”

  Maya cast a hesitant glance in Vito’s direction. His cousin still had his full attention. They were discussing something in Italian. Leo was quite animated. She could have sworn she heard her name thrown about at least twice.

  Lynetta led them farther toward the square. By the time the men had caught up to them, Maya had heard all about the couple’s two toddler sons and how she and her husband had managed to sneak out for a quick drink thanks to the teenager who babysat for them occasionally.

  “We can’t make it too late a night, however,” Lynetta now added. “We are traveling early tomorrow to Verona. To celebrate Vito and Leo’s grandmother’s birthday.”

  “Yes, Vito mentioned that earlier this evening. Please wish your grandmother a happy eighty-fifth. I hope she has a lovely time with her family.”

  “What have you got planned for tomorrow, dear?” Lynetta asked. “Any excursions through our beautiful city?”

  Maya shook her head. “It happens to be a free day. Nothing on the agenda. I think I’ll take the time to just relax in my hotel room. Or maybe do a walking tour.”

  Lynetta blinked at her. “By yourself?”

  Maya had to laugh at her tone. She sounded as if Maya would be walking across that prisoners’ bridge by the palazzo on her way to a cell rather than strolling through the beautiful streets of Venice.

  “I’m sure I’ll find plenty to do.”

  The other woman stopped pacing. “Tell me, Maya. Do you have plans to visit Verona?”

  Maya shook her head. “It isn’t one of the destinations on this trip. From here, I’m off to Florence. Then Rome.”

  Lynetta clasped her hands in front of her chest. “That settles it, then. You must come with us.”

  Maya sensed more than heard Vito’s sharp intake of breath behind them. “Lynetta!”

  The other woman whirled to face him, bit something out in Italian. Then added in English, “And don’t you dare take that tone of voice with me. It was rude of you not to invite her yourself.”

  Maya held out a hand to interject. “Please. I don’t want to intrude where I don’t belong.”

  It was her turn to face Lynetta’s harsh glare. “
Are you turning down my invitation? To an old lady’s birthday gathering?”

  Maya found she couldn’t find the words to reply. The way Lynetta posed the question, she sounded like Maya was committing a dire faux pas by declining. Never mind that Vito stood slack-jawed, watching this unexpected development unfold without saying a thing. If he’d wanted her at his grandmother’s birthday, he would have invited her himself.

  Not that she’d even wanted the invitation. Had she?

  Maya felt a flush of embarrassment and confusion creep up on her cheeks. The whole situation had somehow gotten out of hand. It didn’t help matters that Leo was chuckling softly as he watched the three of them.

  “But I couldn’t possibly intrude that way,” Maya repeated, stumbling over the words. “I’m sure the travel has all been prearranged and everyone’s tickets already purchased.”

  Lynetta’s glare softened. “Don’t be silly, dear. It’s not an intrusion. Nonna would love to have you there. She loves America and would quite enjoy an American visitor. As for as any type of ticket, we’ll be traveling on Vito’s private aircraft.”

  So much for any kind of practical excuse. Vito suddenly stepped in front of her.

  “Please excuse my cousin-in-law’s domineering attitude, Maya. She can’t help herself.”

  From behind him, Lynetta gave Vito a firm swat on his upper arm. He ignored her. “Additionally, I would love it if you’d accompany the three of us, along with my two nephews, to Nonna’s birthday celebration in Verona.”

  Maya wasn’t going to delude herself. Vito clearly felt obliged to extend the invitation. He must have felt like he had no choice after what Lynetta had started. Maya knew his motives for offering the invite had nothing to do with wanting to spend time with her. Lynetta had simply forced his hand.