by Leslie North
Something about Adeline’s words describing Nicolo’s devotion to their unborn child struck a chord for Luciana, and she couldn’t help but think about Gianpierre. She had imagined that she would have to do her best to keep Natalia from bothering him, but the little girl absolutely adored him. She followed him around everywhere. And he was always so calm that it seemed to make Natalia calmer, too. She’d even stopped searching their home for her Matri during the middle of the night. Her nightmares had eased, and she’d giggled until she’d snorted at dinner the other night as Gianpierre explained the finer points of how to eat corn on the cob while getting maximum butter smear on his face. He was a surprise at every turn, and Natalia loved him. She was happier with him in her life… but he was going to leave.
A sick feeling balled itself high in Luciana’s stomach, making her feel nauseous. She had set the little girl up for a second huge loss. Gianpierre was going to leave and he wasn’t going to be back for years. Natalia was only five. Even the length of four years—the anticipated completion time needed for the Dubai job—would have her nearly twice as old as she was now. That was an eternity for a child. For all practical purposes, he was going away and he was not coming back.
“I’ve made a huge mistake,” she said as anguished panic rose within her.
“What? What’s wrong?” Adeline reached across the table and grasped Luciana’s hand. Concern etched her face and squeezed her brows closer together.
“I’ve set that little girl up for misery. She lost her mother and now she’s going to lose Gianpierre. He’d be on a plane tonight for Dubai and not even look back if he thought he could drop the Romano del Mare project that fast. She means nothing to him but he’s the world to her. I’ve messed up. I’ve messed up so bad. What am I going to do?”
Adeline’s lips said a silent “Oh” as understanding settled in. “He’d never hurt her,” she said, giving Luciana’s hand a reassuring squeeze.
“I know that he wouldn’t set out to, but that’s what’s going to happen. I pulled him into Natalia’s life, and now I have to get him out. And I’ve got to do that as soon as possible.”
9
Gianpierre
You did what?” Luciana’s cheeks colored and Gianpierre didn’t see one ounce of good humor in her eyes. She was fresh back from her girl’s night out, but the evening hadn’t seemed to do anything to soften her reaction to what Gianpierre had done.
“I called a nanny service,” Gianpierre said again, wondering more than a little bit if he’d crossed a line. He’d only wanted to help, and he had to get her to see that. “Natalia and I started work on a fairy castle—”
“A fairy castle,” Luciana interrupted, her tone flat, her eyes narrowed and her beautiful lips thinned.
“Yes,” Gianpierre said, eager to restore her feelings of goodwill toward him. “Natalia wanted to watch videos about fairy castles and I knew that you had told her that she wasn’t allowed to watch online videos without you, so instead of watching videos about fairy castles, I offered to help her build one.”
Luciana crossed her arms over her chest. “And that led you to call a nanny service?”
“Well, no, not directly, but while we worked on the building plans, little Natalia talked and I listened. She said that one of her teachers at her daycare snapped at her when she woke up from a bad dream during nap time. The woman told her she was a bad girl and to go stand in the corner.”
Luciana’s eyes went wide, her mouth fell open and her arms fell to her sides. “What’s her name? Tell me. I’ll rip her heart out through her throat,” Luciana growled as her entire body went into fight mode.
Gianpierre had to resist the urge to take a step back and instead took a step forward. He moved carefully, as if approaching a wild mother cougar protecting her young. Every muscle in Luciana’s body was tight and she was ready to pounce, but it was him who was in her line of sight. He needed her to know that he was looking out for Natalia and that he wanted to protect her too.
“We can’t have you maiming anyone,” Gianpierre soothed. “Natalia needs her Mama. She needs you, and she doesn’t need to be around someone who isn’t willing to put her needs before their own—like the lady at the daycare. So, I called a nanny service and they are sending someone over tonight.”
Luciana took a tense breath as if preparing to deliver a cutting verbal onslaught, but Gianpierre quickly continued speaking in order to stave off the tempest of her anger.
“If you like the nanny, we keep her. If we don’t, we send her away. But”—he held up a finger—“she specializes in children who have experienced traumatic events.”
And just like that, all the breath and all the tension that Luciana had been holding in as she readied her attack whooshed out of her. Even her shoulders sagged. “She specializes in traumatized kids?”
“She does,” Gianpierre said, stepping close enough to take Luciana’s hand in his. He led her to the couch where he sat her down and then sat down next to her. “This is a good thing. Natalia doesn’t need anyone making her feel bad about what she’s going through. She deserves better than that.”
Luciana shook her head. “I can’t afford that. I can barely afford this home, and when you’re gone… when my job is gone, I don’t even have a next step in place yet. I don’t know how I’m going to make this work, and now this? I can’t afford a nanny. I want the best for Natalia, but there’s only so much I’m capable of.”
Gianpierre’s chest tightened at seeing Luciana’s struggles without the filter of time or space. If he wasn’t living with them and if he hadn’t gotten the chance to get to know Natalia, she would simply be some little girl who mattered a lot to somebody else. She wouldn’t even be a blip on his radar. But he had met her and he did care about her, and he couldn’t turn his back on her needs… or Luciana’s.
“You aren’t going to pay for the nanny. I am. I called the agency, and I’m going to take care of this. Not you. Not now, and not ever. Not while you are working for me, and not after I go to Dubai. I am going to pay for the nanny.”
“You can’t do this,” Luciana said, but her voice cracked. “I can’t ask you to.”
“You didn’t ask me, and I am doing what I need to do. I need to be the man who makes sure that Natalia is okay.” He paused as he stared into Luciana’s beautiful, worry-stricken face, and then he did the unthinkable. Lifting a hand, he cupped Luciana’s cheek in his palm and stroked her with the brush of his thumb over her soft skin. “I need to be the man who makes sure that you’re okay.”
Luciana gasped and jerked her head away from his touch and then abruptly stood up, but Gianpierre stood up with her. Capturing her face in his hands, he held her gaze with his own. Then, leaning in slowly, he gave her the chance to refuse him before he took her lips with his own. Her lips were sweet and delicate, and while they didn’t kiss him back at first, Luciana’s hands soon found their way to his sides and she leaned into him, opening her mouth in invitation for him to take the kiss deeper.
“You’re going to leave her; you’re going to leave us,” Luciana said in a whisper against his lips when they came up for air. It was a truth that laid his soul bare because he couldn’t refute it. He was going to leave them both, and he wasn’t going to come back for years. He had a goal: get on the cover of Architectural Digest. He was so close to achieving that goal that he could practically reach out his hand and touch it. He wouldn’t turn his back on that now, no matter how much he enjoyed the company of the beautiful woman before him.
A sturdy knock sounded at the door. Luciana turned and walked away, and Gianpierre felt the chill of her absence. Before that second he’d thought that growing his career and his prestige as the premiere expert in medieval architecture was the most important thing in his life, but in that moment insurmountable doubt filled him. He wanted Luciana. He wanted everything about her. The way she threw her head back and laughed without trying to be demure or dainty. The way worry crinkled the corners of her eyes. The way she cook
ed—terribly—in the kitchen with Natalia. God, she was an awful cook. She burned half of everything she tried to make, yet somehow it only endeared her to him more.
I have to get away from her, and I have to do it soon. It was the warning toll of a cathedral sized bell that rang in his head. His desire to go was slipping away. She was stealing his drive to be the best of the best. Replacing it was his need to be their best, their everything. He’d seen his brother, Nicolo, turn away from a career defining project that would have kept him on the lips of other developers for decades. He wouldn’t make that same mistake. He wouldn’t trade his future for the happiness of a woman, not even the wonderful Luciana and her charming ward, Natalia.
He followed Luciana at a distance toward the door and watched as she opened it and a comfortably plump, middle-aged woman introduced herself as Signora Esposito. Her presence was instantly gracious and calming, and Gianpierre breathed a private sigh of relief that his girls would be okay even without him. He would quietly see them through any financial hardships that faced them, never letting Luciana know that he was her financial backer, and he would make sure that both she and Natalia had the resources they needed to be able to thrive. With a nanny like Signora Esposito on hand, Luciana would be freed to pursue whatever job that arose that best suited her skills and her needs—and he would make damn sure that those jobs became available to her. His family’s name, and his name specifically, was well known and well respected within the land development community. With only a few well placed phone calls, he would ensure that Luciana had her pick of jobs waiting for her when he moved on. She and Natalia would be okay, and they would be okay without him. He was still a free man. Nothing had changed, no matter how much it felt as though everything had.
“Natalia,” Luciana called, “there’s someone here that I’d like you to meet.”
Gianpierre stayed in the background and watched as Luciana knelt so that she was eye to eye with Natalia as she introduced the little girl to her new governess. Once he moved out, Signora Esposito could move in and take up residence in his vacated bedroom and be available regardless of Luciana’s schedule. It was yet another reason that he should move on as soon as possible. Signora Esposito had specialized training in dealing with childhood trauma as well as a strong educational background in the sciences and the arts. She would be an excellent tutor as well as a guardian and care provider. He’d miss the little girl—and her new mother—but him leaving was inevitable. It didn’t matter that a growing part of himself didn’t want to leave. He’d throw himself into his new job, and everything else would cease to matter. It’s how it always was for him. The people he left behind always faded in importance. Over the years he’d learned to accept that about himself.
Slipping into the back hallway, Gianpierre climbed the tucked-away staircase that led up to the roof. There, he leaned on the stone banister that lined the rooftop.
Night had fallen and blanketed the small town below him. Unseen in the distance, he could hear the Ionian Sea lapping against the shore and the gentle sounds of small-town life. Above him, the stars seemed to twinkle and blink, and he wondered what celestial bodies would be visible to him once he got to Dubai.
The sound of a door closing caused him to turn around. Still in her wrap-around dress that hugged her every curve and the strappy black stilettos she’d worn during her girl’s night out, Luciana appeared like a vision in the soft glow of the underwater lights that lit the long, narrow lap pool that he’d had installed.
“I’m sorry,” he said, beating her to the punch. He didn’t know if she’d come to the roof to fight, but she’d make a formidable foe and he didn’t want to take that chance. There were so many things he wanted to do to her at that moment, but fighting simply wasn’t one of them.
“For what? For looking out for us? Taking care of us?”
Gianpierre smiled. “Mmm, I am sorry for doing something that wasn’t mine to do.” It was a lie. He wasn’t sorry. He’d do it again… and again… and again. Whatever it took to take care of them, but those were not the words to say to a strong, smart, and independent woman such as Luciana.
With a slow walk that swung her round hips like a hypnotic metronome, Luciana closed the distance between them. “Natalia’s downstairs with one of the biggest smiles I’ve ever seen on her face, so I’m not sorry you took control. You did something that I couldn’t have done on my own, and I won’t deny the joy that brings her just to save my pride.” She stopped mere inches from Gianpierre’s chest. “Thank you,” she said, and then reached up on tip toes to put a kiss on his cheek. The next one graced his lips.
Gianpierre didn’t kiss her back, not at first. His heart pounded so hard and so loud he thought it was a wonder that she didn’t hear it, and he knew that he was standing on the edge of a cliff. One step. One slip. That was all that it would take to fall into Luciana’s arms and never be able to climb his way back up and away from her. But then the touch of her hand came to rest on his chest and she nuzzled her nose into his neck before kissing him there, and he knew he’d already fallen. He’d fallen weeks ago, but he’d been in too much of a delusional daze to realize it.
He’d lost his control to Luicana the moment she’d walked into his life… and he didn’t want it back. Ever.
10
Luciana
I know we shouldn’t,” Luciana whispered as she rubbed her cheek against the edge of Gianpierre’s stubbled jaw. She was his employee, but he smelled good, of musk and earth, and she breathed him in as deep as her lungs would take him. She knew that he wasn’t going to stay, that he was going to leave and that it was going to be as soon as he could, but he was here tonight. It was enough.
“You are a bewitching vixen, but you are right. I can’t be this for you,” Gianpierre said, his hands someplace that was not on her.
“What? You can’t be my lover for a night?” Luciana teased as she dragged the tip of one nail down his shirt.
Gianpierre growled, but he still didn’t touch her. “Is that all you want? A night?”
Luciana went still as she looked up into his eyes. A part of her had felt empty since the day that her sister had died, but—somehow—that feeling had eased since getting the job with Gianpierre. When she wasn’t with Natalia, the job was her purpose and focus, plus Gianpierre’s presence had slowly become a comfort to her. All she had to do was be near him, and he had a way of eclipsing all of her fears with his calm strength. He could be so gruff, so dismissive, yet she’d never felt safer than when she was with him.
“What I want is for you to remind me what being a woman feels like.”
Gianpierre growled, and his chest vibrated beneath Luciana’s hand. It was then, finally, that he put his hands on her. Trailing them up the long line of her back, he sank the fingers of one hand into her thick hair and squeezed, pulling her head back and tilting her face up higher. “You could have any lover, anyone. Why me? Is it because I’m here, because I’m convenient?”
“Yes.” Luciana threw the word at him like she was throwing a knife and felt his fingers tighten even more in her hair. Of course, it wasn’t true. She didn’t want him because he was convenient. She wanted him despite how wrong he was for her. She wanted him because she hadn’t been able to bring herself to want anyone else. He didn’t need to know that, though. He didn’t need to know how special he was to her. She was setting herself up for heartbreak by inviting him into her bed—in a manner of speaking—and she hated him for that, but it didn’t stop her from wanting him.
“Then find another,” Gianpierre ground out through clenched teeth. In that instant, he released her hair and was gone, stepping away.
They weren’t on the restoration site but yet Luciana felt the earth shift beneath her feet. “What is this?” she demanded. “At first you’ll barely look at me, but now you live with me. You kissed me in the tunnels—without invitation—but now you push me away. What is your game?” The pain of being rejected by someone she wanted so much made her temples
throb and made it difficult to think clearly. Even though he hadn’t done so, she felt as if she had been bodily shoved away from him with a violence that filled her with a venomous anger she’d never felt before. She’d been holding in so much since her sister had died, bottling it all up and making sure she was forever the strong one so that Natalia could feel secure and safe, but now all of her feelings of abandonment boiled their way to the surface and focused on Gianpierre’s retreating back.
Taking off her strappy sandals, she threw one of them at him and hit him square between his heavily muscled shoulders. “Look at me!” she yelled. “Don’t walk away from me! You don’t get to walk away from me!” Everyone left her. Everyone. And she couldn’t take it happening tonight.
Gianpierre whirled on her and stalked forward with long strides that devoured the distance between them. He came at her so fast that despite her demands that he give her his full attention, Luciana walked backwards until she hit the small, windowed shed that he’d constructed as a rooftop gym. His powerful hands were on her arms below her shoulders a second later, and his touch sent a jolt of electricity through her. His simple nearness did something to her. It made her defiantly happy to be alive.
“I don’t want you,” Gianpierre rumbled low in his throat with his head tilted and leaning forward as if ready to kiss her, and Luciana couldn’t tell if he was talking to her or to himself. She had the sense that he was fighting an internal war, one that he was losing, but then his face hardened. “You’re trouble. You’re a burden.”