Senior joined them, wrapping his own arms around his wife’s shoulders. “Leave that boy be. Your son’s almost forty years old! Cut them apron strings already, woman!” The man’s smile filled his dark face as he kissed her cheek.
She rolled her eyes, fighting the smile that pulled at her own lips and the tears that burned hot behind her eyelids. “He’s only thirty-seven. He’s nowhere near close to forty yet. And I’ll cut the apron strings when I darn well please, Senior Boudreaux!”
Donovan smiled, the pad of his thumb swiping at a tear that had rolled down his mother’s cheek. “It’s not like I won’t come back, Mama. I’m not planning to be there forever. And I hope you’ll definitely come visit me.”
Tarah suddenly waved her hands for attention. “Can I live in your apartment while you’re gone?”
* * *
Senior eased his body into the queen-size bed beside his wife. Katherine sat upright against the pillows, her electronic reader open on her lap, her reading glasses perched low on her nose. She cut her eye at her husband as he snuggled his body close against hers. He leaned up on one elbow, his head resting against an open palm as he stared at her.
“What?”
“What do you mean what?”
“I mean, why are you staring at me?”
“I’m staring,” he said softly, his hand trailing a heated line across her leg, “because you’re so beautiful.”
Katherine shifted her glasses from her face, resting them easily in her lap. She met the look the man was giving her. “What do you want, Senior Boudreaux?”
“Why do I have to want something, woman?”
“Because when you start tossing out compliments, you’re up to something. So what is it?”
Senior rolled his eyes skyward as he dropped onto his side, then moved onto his back. He pulled one arm up over his head as the other clutched the covers around his body.
“I tell you how beautiful you are all the time. That doesn’t mean I want something.”
Katherine pulled her glasses back against her face. She threw one last gaze in his direction. “Mmm-hmm!” she muttered under her breath.
Senior laughed. “Okay, so maybe I want something,” he said as he rolled back toward her.
“You’re working my nerves right now, Senior,” she quipped, a smile pulling at her thin lips. “You see me reading. You know I don’t like to be interrupted when I’m in the middle of a good book!”
Senior shrugged his shoulders. “I was thinking that we probably need to update our wills,” he said, ignoring her comment.
She pulled at her eyeglasses a second time, closing the cover on her electronic device. “What brought that up?”
“Our babies. With all of our new grandbabies we need to make sure they’re going to be taken care of. We don’t have much, but I want to make sure they each get a little something from us when the time comes.”
Katherine nodded. “Do you remember when it was just Collin? Back then I used to think he was going to be the only grandbaby we would ever have!”
Senior laughed. “And you spoiled him like it, too!”
The matriarch nodded. “Katrina was going through so much back then, raising Collin by herself after his daddy died.”
Senior fell into his thoughts, thinking about the army helicopter pilot who’d married his daughter and fathered his eldest grandson. He’d been a good man, and his untimely death during the Gulf War had been devastating. Both he and Katherine had been thrilled when Katrina had found love a second time with Matthew Stallion. Matthew loved their daughter immensely and had stepped in to parent Collin without a moment’s hesitation. The couple had been blessed again when their second son, Matthew Jacoby Stallion Junior, had been born. Everyone in the family called the youngster Jake. Only his beloved grandmother called him Jacoby.
Senior tossed his wife an endearing smile. “Katrina’s happy, and them boys is doing good. She and Matthew are doing a fine job raising Collin and Jake.”
“My sweet little Jacoby is a handful. But he’s got a great big brother!”
“Collin takes after his granddaddy,” Senior said with a chuckle.
Katherine laughed with him. “That’s not a bad thing! Not a bad thing at all!” She trailed a warm finger against the side of her husband’s face.
“Now we’ve got the twins, and little Alexa, and Maitlyn will be having her little munchkin soon. Before you know it, Tarah will be married and having babies. I just think we need to make sure we’re prepared.”
“It used to drive me crazy worrying about our kids getting married and having families of their own. I wanted them all to know the kind of love you and I have, but your sons were determined to do things their own way.”
“And look at them now. I think my sons are doing a fine job. You were worrying for nothing.”
She smiled. “I guess I was,” she said as she thought about her children and the people who’d come to share their lives. Her eldest son, Mason, had married Matthew Stallion’s sister, Phaedra. Mason wanted children, but Phaedra wasn’t ready to rush into the responsibility. She imagined it would be another year, maybe even two before the young woman would be ready. Katherine had told her son that waiting wasn’t a bad thing. It would happen when God was ready for it to happen.
Then there was Maitlyn. Her oldest daughter had been heartbroken over the demise of her first marriage despite both her parents having warned her that her ex had been no good for her. Meeting her brother’s best friend, Zak Sayed, had shown Maitlyn how a woman was supposed to be treated. And now Maitlyn and Zak were expecting their first child.
With Guy and Dahlia settling in nicely with their twins, and Darryl and his wife, Camryn, loving on their new baby, only three of their children had yet to find happiness in a committed relationship. Donovan was the only son still an eligible bachelor. Their daughter Kamaya’s happily-ever-after was right in front of her face, but she was the only one who couldn’t see it, and their youngest, Tarah, was still looking for Mr. Right, although Tarah was often quick to settle for Mr. Right Now. Katherine blew out a low sigh.
She suddenly felt her husband eyeing her intently, and she met his stare. “I think you’re worrying for nothing,” she said. “Every one of our kids is doing well, and their babies will want for absolutely nothing.”
Senior reached his arms around his wife’s waist and hugged her close. “Maybe, but I’d rather be safe than sorry.”
She nodded, gently caressing his shoulders as she hugged him back. “We’ve done good with our children, Senior Boudreaux,” she whispered softly. “We’ve done really good, old man! It’s time you and I both stop worrying.”
“So, does that mean you’re happy about Donovan going to Italy?”
“I like having my children close to home, you know that, Senior. I will never be happy about Donovan going so far away, but I’m happy that he’s been blessed with this opportunity.”
He gave her a quick squeeze. “Donovan needs a change of scenery. This trip will be good for him. He’s been focused on school and work and nothing else for too long now.”
Katherine blew a soft sigh. “Maybe, but I’m still gonna miss my baby!”
Senior laughed heartily. “Your babies are grown!” he said as he reached to swipe a tear from her eye.
She leaned her cheek into the palm of his hand. “They will always be my babies!”
Senior reached up to kiss her mouth, allowing his lips to linger against hers for a good long while. Katherine broke the connection, suddenly laughing as she turned off her reader and rested it against the nightstand. She reached to turn off the light that decorated the tabletop.
Her husband eyed the wide grin across her face. “What’s so funny?”
“I think we should make a baby!” she said, still giggling as she nestled herself beneath h
im.
Senior laughed with her. “You’re hoping for a miracle, aren’t you?”
“Not really. I just thought we could have a whole lot of fun practicing,” she answered as she slid her lips back to his.
Chapter 2
Donovan moved from his kitchen into his family room, hanging up the telephone he carried in his hand. He’d been on a conference call with Maitlyn and his brothers, acquiring help for his impending trip. His Lafayette Street loft had been his single greatest investment, and he needed to ensure that someone in the family stayed on top of things while he was gone, lest Tarah turn his home into a sorority party house.
Making sure the doors were locked and the security system engaged, he headed to his office. He sat down in the leather executive’s chair, pulling it up to the large oak desk as he turned on his computer. As he waited for it to power on, Donovan folded his hands in his lap, dropping into deep thought.
Donovan was the third child and the second son in the family of nine. With a doctorate in mathematics, he was a tenured professor at Tulane University. The most conservative of all his siblings, he was an intellectual challenge to most. His staid demeanor made his sister Katrina, a district court judge, and his brother Mason, a billionaire entrepreneur and business executive, look wild in comparison. His younger siblings frequently professed that he defied all logic with them having careers in the arts and him having no artistic inclinations whatsoever. Even his brother Kendrick, who had often kept much of his life a deep, dark secret until meeting Vanessa, was more outspoken and outgoing than Donovan tended to be.
But Donovan had secrets, too, the likes of which would make his whole family sit up and take notice. His very conservative, very organized lifestyle had always been an open book, and now he was keeping details close to the vest. His interest in Italy was just the tip of the cache of secrets he’d been keeping from his family. A full grin pulled wide across his face.
He focused on the lengthy list of email messages that filled his inbox folder. He was searching for one in particular, and when he found the familiar email address his smile widened.
For months now he’d been pen pals with a woman who lived in Italy. A woman he had yet to meet or speak to in person. He only knew her from the award-winning books she was renowned for, her promotional photo gracing the back cover of each. But he’d become obsessed with the email messages from her that came daily, the engaging exchanges brightening his otherwise dull existence. And now he was being afforded an opportunity to visit Italy and meet her in person. Never much of a risk taker, Donovan rarely found himself out of his comfort zone. He could only begin to imagine what his siblings would have to say if any of them were to find out.
He didn’t have to imagine what his parents would say. He could already hear their admonishments and concerns, both asking questions he didn’t necessarily have answers for. He had never heard of any online relationship turning out well. For all any of them knew, he could have just as easily been chatting with Bubba in the state penitentiary. He no more knew who was on the other end of that computer than she did. He only knew what he was being told, and any of it could have been a bold-faced lie. The anonymity of the internet made embellishing and stretching the truth an easy thing to do. But something about the eloquence of her words had Donovan trusting that he did indeed have a connection with the illustrious author.
He read the message that had come hours earlier.
I live a charmed life. I get to live in a beautiful villa in the Tuscan Maremma, eat pasta prepared by an amazing Italian chef and travel to charming cities whenever I want. What’s not to love? I imagine that finally meeting you will be the icing on some very sweet, sweet cake! So, please, come. I can’t wait to show you everything exquisite about Italy.
A shiver of excitement surged up Donovan’s spine. He reached for the four-hundred-page mystery novel that rested on the corner of the desk. Mayhem and Madness by Gianna Martelli had landed on the New York Times bestseller list three weeks earlier and didn’t seem to be going anyplace anytime soon. He flipped the book in his hand to stare at the photograph on the back jacket.
Gianna Martelli was a stunning beauty, and he imagined that the professionally shot black-and-white image didn’t begin to do her justice. Her dark eyes were focused on the camera, and he felt as if she were staring directly at him. The look she was giving was searing, her gaze intense. But there was something about her expression that gave him pause, made him wish he could reach through the pages to draw her into his arms and hold her tight. He sighed.
Two books ago he’d reached out to email her, wanting to offer his opinion of her current novel at the time. He’d been excited to share his opinions about her characters, the protagonist a math professor at a historically black college. He’d been eager to tell her where she’d gotten it wrong and what had been wholeheartedly right. He had only half expected a polite but scripted response. Instead, he’d gotten an intriguingly worded reply that had challenged his sensibilities. Curiosity had gotten the best of him and he’d written back, receiving another reply that had him suddenly wanting more. Before he knew it, they were exchanging lengthy emails and a delightful friendship was born.
He typed a quick message back.
You’ve convinced me and now I’m counting the days. I can’t wait to see that sunset you are always bragging about.
After adding his travel details, he pushed the send button. Moving from his office to his bedroom, he pulled an oversize suitcase from a closet shelf and began to pack.
* * *
Rushing into the large kitchen, Carina looked from her husband to her father and back. Both men paused, concern washing over their expressions.
“What’s wrong?” Graham questioned.
“Are you okay?” Franco asked, resting the knife in his hand on the butcher-block counter.
She shook her head vehemently. “Gianna’s going to kill me!”
The two men cut eyes at each other.
“What did you do, Carina?” Franco asked, eyeing his daughter with a narrowed gaze.
She raised both hands. “It’s really not that bad, but Gianna isn’t going to like it!” she exclaimed.
“What isn’t she going to like?” Graham asked.
Carina crossed the room to stare out a window. She moved from one to the other, and then to the door, to ensure that her twin was nowhere near.
Franco shook his head. “Gianna went into town for me. She’s not here.”
“He’s coming to Italy,” Carina blurted. “He’ll be here next week.”
“Who’s coming to Italy?”
“Donovan Boudreaux, the math professor from the United States.”
Both men seemed confused, tossing each other another look.
Carina sighed. “The man she’s been communicating with, except she doesn’t know she’s been communicating with him because I’ve been sending the messages.”
Both men snapped in unison. “You’ve been doing what?”
The young woman nodded. “I’ve been pretending to be Gianna. He’s been writing to her, and I’ve been answering.”
“Carina, why would you do something like that?” Graham snapped.
“Because I knew she wouldn’t, and I think they would make a really great couple. He’s just as nerdy as she is.”
“But he hasn’t been building a relationship with your sister, Carina—he’s been building one with you,” Franco said, crossing his arms over his chest.
Carina shook her head. “That’s not true. Every word I sent, she wrote. I copied them out of her journals.”
“You read your sister’s journals?” Her father’s look was disapproving.
“I’ve been reading her journals since we were twelve. Besides, I am her personal assistant. I’m supposed to answer her mail.”
“I don’t think
that’s what your sister intended, daughter.” Franco shook his head from side to side. He went back to chopping the bulb of garlic that rested on the wooden chopping board. “Gianna is going to kill you!”
Graham laughed. “She is definitely going to kill you,” he said.
Carina rolled her eyes at her husband. “Thanks for the support.”
“So, what do you know about this guy?” Graham asked. “How do you know he’s not a psycho?”
“He teaches at Tulane University in New Orleans. He comes from a big family, and he reads the same boring stuff Gianna reads.”
“So he is a psycho!”
“He’s very sweet and a bit of a romantic. He’s exactly what Gianna needs.”
“So, tell me,” Graham said, turning to stare at his wife, a wooden spoon waving in his hand, “exactly when were you going to tell Gianna about this guy?”
“I hadn’t figured that out. I thought I had a little more time until he decided to come to Italy to meet me... I mean her.”
Graham continued to eyeball her. “I’m having some issues with this,” he said. “You’ve been having a relationship with another man for weeks...”
“Months actually,” Carina interrupted, her tone casual.
Graham paused, his eyebrows raised. “Months?”
His wife nodded as she gave him a quick shrug. “I was building a friendship between them. That takes time. And I was going to tell her. I think.”
He shook his head. “You’ve been building this relationship for months now, but I’m supposed to believe that you did it for your sister, when you didn’t even know if you were going to tell her?”
“You’re making it sound worse than it is!”
“It sounds the way it sounds, Carina, and it’s not kosher! It’s not kosher at all!”
Her father moved from the tomato sauce he’d put on the stove toward the door. “I’ll let you two have a minute,” he said. “Watch my pot while I’m gone, please.”
Tuscan Heat Page 2