“Excuse me?”
“Earlier you said that you didn’t think you were going to see me today. Why was that?” She slowly scooped a trail of chocolate from the plate with her finger, easing the decadent treat past her lips.
Donovan’s eyes lifted as he shrugged. He cleared his throat before speaking. “I thought I might have been a little pushy yesterday. I was worried that you were put off by me trying to define our relationship.”
Her head bobbed ever so slightly as she seemed to be reflecting on his comment. She leaned forward in her seat as she slowly licked the cream filling from her fingers. Eyeing her, Donovan felt a rush of heat course through his body, the seductive motion like a lit match igniting a low flame between them. He opened his mouth to speak, but nothing came out. The gesture was distracting, and he was suddenly at a loss for words, unable to form a coherent thought as he watched her suck her index finger slowly.
He closed his eyes and shook his head, then waved his own finger in her direction. “You’re a tease!” he said, amusement dancing in his tone. “You’re a tease, and you’re enjoying every minute of this! You’re also trying to distract me from having this conversation.”
Gianna laughed as she wiped her hands on a paper napkin. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“You know exactly what I’m talking about and what you were doing.” He shifted toward her, easing his body closer to hers. They were practically nose to nose as he held her gaze. “You’re teasing me, and I fell for it.”
There was a brief moment of silence before she nodded, her eyes wide as she eased back in her seat, needing to fill the space between them with a waft of cool air. Once again, Gianna changed the subject.
“So why do we need to define our relationship?”
Donovan sighed softly before answering. “We don’t, but it would be nice to know where I stand with you.” He shifted closer a second time, his leg pressing hot against hers. “Because I really care about you, Gianna. I know we just met, but what’s happening between us has been building for months now. So why can’t we just say it? Unless I’m reading something into our friendship that’s not there?”
She shook her head, her eyes skating from side to side as she tried to think. A wave of anxiety suddenly flooded her spirit, washing over her sensibilities. She took a deep breath and then another before speaking. “Donovan, you already know where you and I stand. You and I are friends. Very good friends. What more do you need to know...or want me to say about us?”
Donovan sat back in his seat, still staring at her. That nervous twitch he’d noticed before was suddenly quivering, the muscle in her face dancing of its own volition. She suddenly drew her fingers to her face as if to will it to stop. Gianna shifted her gaze from his, and he could almost feel the wave of anxiety that had dropped like a blanket around her shoulders. For the first time Donovan sensed that Gianna wasn’t as certain as she wanted people to believe. The tough veneer she exuded had cracked, exposing an air of fragility that he’d not sensed before.
Gianna took a deep inhale of air and held it, silently counting to ten before blowing it slowly past her parted lips. Donovan’s intense stare had her quivering with nervous excitement. She was suddenly feeling vulnerable and transparent, as if he could see right through her. He wanted to define them, to hear her say what was clearly in his heart. But even in his certainty, she felt most uncertain, something like fear clutching her heart. And then he smiled, the beauty of it like the sweetest balm, and all she could do was smile with him.
Donovan reached into his wallet, pulling money from inside to leave a tip. He rested the ten euro banknote in the center of the table. Standing, he extended his hand toward her. As she slid her fingers between his, their touch was electric...and comforting.
“We should go,” he said softly, pulling her to her feet.
Gianna nodded, suddenly wishing she could find the words to tell him that she really didn’t want to. If she were honest, she wasn’t ready to tell him goodbye.
Chapter 7
Donovan stood at the window, looking out over the landscape. The ride back had been exceptionally quiet, neither he nor Gianna knowing what to say. For the first time since connecting with the woman, he felt as if she was a stranger, and he couldn’t begin to understand why.
He turned back to the textbooks that lined his kitchen table. He needed to finalize his teaching plan for the first semester, but his mind wasn’t on the curriculum. Donovan was feeling out of sorts about what had happened between him and Gianna. Or more accurately, what wasn’t happening. He hadn’t wanted to push, sensing that she would have felt as if she was being backed into a corner. And then it had dawned on him that what he had hoped for between them was probably not meant to be.
He sighed deeply as he moved back to the table and took a seat. As he pored over the documents before him, he was desperate to focus his attention on anything that would take his mind off Gianna. But time seemed to drag as he tried to fix his mind on the numbers he so loved to manipulate.
The knock on his front door startled him. Donovan looked toward the clock on the wall. It was well after midnight, and he couldn’t begin to imagine who’d be paying him a visit at such a late hour. The knock came a second time, the rapping abrupt and impatient. Moving from his seat to the door, he opened it just enough to peek out.
Gianna stood on the other side, eyeing him as warily as he eyed her. “I didn’t think you’d be sleeping,” she said matter-of-factly.
“Why not?”
“Because you’re still thinking about the two of us.”
He paused, wanting to tell her she was wrong. But he couldn’t, as the words would prove to be a lie. Instead he shrugged his shoulders. “What are you doing here?”
“I came to talk...about us,” she said as she pushed her way past him. As she turned to stare, she was taken aback, her breath catching deep in her chest. Her eyes grew big as her gaze ran the length of his body to the floor and back. Donovan was wearing a pair of cotton sleeping pants and little else. Bare-chested, he reminded her of a cover model for a men’s magazine or a steamy romance novel. Clearly he took meticulous care of his body, his skin smooth like melted chocolate. He had the pecs of a body builder, and his abdominal muscles were easily a rippled eight-pack.
Before she could catch herself, Gianna reached out to trail her hand across his torso, gasping loudly as her fingertips connected with his flesh. Her eyes suddenly widened as she snatched her hand back, mortified that she’d been so brazen. Donovan took a step toward her.
“I should probably go put something on,” he said, his voice a loud whisper.
“No... Yes... I mean...!” she sputtered, meeting his gaze. She clasped her hand to her chest as she turned and hurried back to the door. “I’ll be waiting for you out here,” she called over her shoulder.
Donovan shook his head, a smile blossoming across his face. Moving into his bedroom, he slipped his bare feet into a pair of leather sandals and pulled on a T-shirt, then he headed out the door after her.
* * *
Outside, Gianna still clutched her hand close to her chest, feeling as if it had been burned. Her fingers tingled, the quivers going all the way down to her toes. Just the briefest touch had her wanting to splay herself open to the man, to give him a taste of her sweets and treats. Donovan Boudreaux had her imagining the two of them in the most compromising positions, heated and dirty and pleasurable beyond measure.
She took a deep breath, gulping air as if her life depended on it. She suddenly found herself having a change of heart, not knowing if coming to see Donovan had been a good idea, after all. When she’d tiptoed out of the farmhouse, she’d known exactly what she’d wanted to say to Donovan. She knew she needed to clear the air, to be open and honest and tell him about Carina’s involvement in putting them together. That had been her intent wh
en she and Carina had come earlier, meeting his brother instead. She’d known since that first day that for them to move forward, there could be no secrets between them. Donovan needed to know the truth. Now she couldn’t even think clearly, unable to remember the speech she’d been practicing in her head since they’d last parted.
Donovan stepping up behind her caused her to jump, startled out of her thoughts.
“You scared me,” she snapped as she turned to face him.
He held up both hands as if he were surrendering. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to frighten you.”
They both took a collective breath and held it before either spoke again.
Donovan broke the silence. “So, what did you want...” he started, before suddenly noticing the horse standing off to the side.
The massive, bay-colored animal stood majestically, looking at them both as if he were waiting for something to happen. Even in the late-night darkness, there was no mistaking how exquisite the creature was with his rich, red-toned coloration and white stripe down the center of his face. Surprised, Donovan found himself staring as he and the horse eyed each other.
“His name’s Raffaello,” Gianna said as she moved to stroke the horse’s snout.
“He’s beautiful. What breed is he?” Donovan asked, moving closer to the animal, who gave him a subtle push with his nose. He brushed his hand against the horse’s neck.
“He’s a Maremmano. It’s a local Tuscan breed.”
“You rode over?”
Gianna nodded. “It was too dark to walk, and I didn’t want to drive. I needed to think.”
Donovan shifted his gaze to meet hers, nodding in understanding. He took another deep breath. “So, what did you want to talk about?”
Gianna hesitated, and then she shook her head as she shrugged her shoulders. “Do you want to ride?” she suddenly asked.
Before he could respond, she swung her body up onto the horse’s back, nothing between her and the animal but a soft cotton blanket. She extended her hand toward him.
Donovan paused for just a brief moment. “What’s his name again?” he asked.
“Raffaello.”
“After the painter?”
She laughed. “No, the turtle.”
Confusion washed over Donovan’s face. “The turtle?”
Gianna laughed again. “The Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles.”
Donovan was still staring at her as if she’d lost her mind.
A huge grin crossed her face. “There’s Leonardo, Donatello, Michelangelo and Raphael. You really don’t know your pop culture!”
He shrugged his broad shoulders. “Something you’ll need to teach me.”
“Carina and I named all the horses after them.”
“All the horses?”
“We have six.”
“And the other two are named?”
“Hermione and Ginevra—Ginny for short.”
Donovan paused. “Harry Potter! I know those!” he said with a deep chuckle.
Gianna laughed with him. “That was all Carina’s idea. I’m not a Harry Potter fan.”
“But you like the turtle things?”
“I love the turtle things!” She waved her hand. “So, are you coming or not?”
Donovan took a deep breath as he clutched her arm and jumped, swinging the bulk of his body onto the horse’s back behind her.
The beast beneath them neighed in response, twisting his head just enough to glare at the two of them. Gianna caressed the side of his thick neck. “Good boy!” she said. “Good boy!”
Once he was settled comfortably atop the animal, Donovan rested his hands lightly against her sides. Gianna grabbed one hand and then the other, pulling his arms closer around her waist.
“You’ll need to hold on,” she said, her words lost in the air as the horse started at a brisk gallop. “Hold on tight!”
Just the hint of a breeze was blowing as they rode beneath the late-night sky. Donovan’s body was nestled close to Gianna’s, her back leaning easily against his chest. Above their heads, stars shimmered brightly against the dark canvas, lighting their path. Everything about the moment felt surreal, and Donovan was awed by how at ease they both were.
He was completely lost as she navigated their way through the countryside, coming to a halt as they reached the coastline and the pristine Blue Flag beaches so popular with tourists. She led them to a secluded cove, then slid like a nymph from the horse’s back and out of Donovan’s arms. She left him sitting atop Raffaello as she skipped toward the expanse of warm, shallow water. Donovan watched as she kicked off her shoes, dipping her feet into the warm waters that lapped at the edge of the sand.
There was something exquisite about Gianna as she danced beneath the full moon, her thick waves loose and whipping over her shoulders. She was braless, wearing a simple tank top that amplified her small bustline. Her nipples had blossomed against the cotton fabric and pressed teasingly for attention. Boy-cut shorts complemented her well-rounded backside, her buttocks tight and firm like two generous-sized melons. She was lean, and despite her petite stature, her legs seemed to be a mile high. He suddenly imagined her in his arms, pressed against him, his hands trailing the lines and curves of her body. As if she were reading his mind, she suddenly turned and stared in his direction, wrapping her arms around her torso.
Donovan gently caressed the horse’s side. “Easy boy,” he said softly. “Easy.”
Raffaello lifted his head and whinnied, the tone low and gentle, as if he were encouraging Donovan to catch up to the woman.
The man chuckled softly as he dismounted. He gave the horse an easy hug. “Give me a break, big guy. She’s a hard one to keep up with,” he said out loud. The horse lifted his head again as though he were cosigning Donovan’s statement.
A full moon reflected off the water, casting a glow around the landscape. As Donovan moved in Gianna’s direction, she stared, turning to watch him. When he was close enough for the sea spray to kiss his face, she turned back and continued to walk, kicking up water beneath her feet. Donovan followed behind her, his arms crossed over his chest and his hands clutched tightly beneath his armpits.
“You look nervous,” she said, coming to an abrupt stop as she turned again to face him.
He shook his head. “No. I’m just curious. Wondering what we’re doing here in the middle of the night.”
“I wanted to show you this place. It’s one of my favorites. I come here and walk the sand when I need to figure something out.”
“What are you trying to figure out?”
“Our story,” she said emphasizing the word our. “Whether or not the hero gets the girl.”
Donovan smiled ever so slightly. “The hero always gets the girl.”
She smiled with him. “Not in my books.”
“But you don’t write romance.”
“I don’t. I’ve never really believed in happily-ever-after.”
“Do you believe in the girl at least giving the hero a chance?”
Gianna took a breath, blowing it out slowly. “I do, but our story is different.”
“Different how?”
Gianna suddenly changed the subject. “Do you smell that?” she asked, tilting her face upward as she inhaled deeply.
Donovan took his own deep inhale, noting the faintest hint of floral sweet that tinted the ocean air. He nodded.
“It’s Italian jasmine,” she responded. “It’s still blooming, and it’s late for this time of year. That’s a good omen.”
Donovan took a step toward her, closing the gap between them. “How is our story different, Gianna?”
She met the intense look he was giving her, hesitating for a split second before answering. “The heroine wasn’t in it from the beginning. Only the hero.”
> Donovan stared at her, her comment spinning in his mind. His gaze dropped to the ground, flitting back and forth as he tried to make sense of her statement. When he lifted his eyes back to her face, she was gnawing nervously on her bottom lip.
She continued. “Carina was the one who initially reached out to you. Pretending to be me.”
“Carina?”
Gianna nodded. “She wanted to fix us up. Her methods were just a little wayward.”
“So it wasn’t you who’s been writing to me all these months?”
Gianna shook her head. “No. I only found out about you a few weeks before you arrived.”
“So this whole time, all of this has been a game?” He suddenly thought back to the conversation with Kendrick and Graham and how the twins liked to play tricks on people.
“No! Not at all,” she said emphatically. “Carina just wanted us to get to know each other. But everything she wrote, or rather what she sent you...those were all my words, my feelings. She took the writings from my personal journals to respond to you. And I’ve read every word you wrote me. I could probably recite them verbatim. Her responses would have been exactly what I would have said to you.”
Donovan drew his hand over the top of his head and down his face. “No wonder you’ve been so...” He paused.
“I didn’t want you to be hurt by this. I know you’ve been invested in our relationship far longer than I have, but I assure you, even though I’ve been playing catch up, you and I...”
He cut her words off, his tone harsh. “You and I don’t have a relationship. You and your sister have been playing me for a fool,” he said. “I can’t believe after all this time that I didn’t figure it out.”
“I’m so sorry, Donovan,” Gianna said, contrition in her eyes. “I really am. I needed to apologize. And I needed you to know the truth.”
“Now you want me to know the truth? Why didn’t you just tell me when we first met?”
Gianna eased even closer to him. She pressed her palms to his chest, her fingers clutching the front of his shirt. “That very first day I wanted to, but once I met you... I...well... I really wanted to get to know you better. Carina and I had even planned to tell you earlier today, but when we got to your home and your brother was there, I changed my mind again.”
Tuscan Heat Page 8