Tuscan Heat

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Tuscan Heat Page 10

by Deborah Fletcher Mello


  “Sophie...look...”

  She interrupted, batting her eyelashes at him. “Donovan, I’m really not good at this kind of thing, but I like you and you like me, and we have so much in common. I feel like we could have more with each other. I know you feel it, too!”

  His palm was sweaty as she caressed his fingers, a look of longing in her dark eyes. Extricating himself from her touch, he shifted backward in his seat, dropping both of his hands into his lap. “Sophie, I’m sorry. I hope I didn’t give you the wrong impression but...”

  “But you’re lonely and you crave companionship and a woman’s touch in your life. I see it in your eyes, and the past few weeks in particular I’ve felt like you’ve been missing something.”

  He shook his head vehemently as he stammered. “I was... I mean... I am... I don’t...” He took a deep breath, his two hands suddenly gesturing in the air as he tried to explain himself. “I have had a lot on my mind lately, but it’s not what you think. I appreciate everything you’ve done for me, but I don’t want to give you the impression that you and I are anything but friends. Good friends. And colleagues! But that’s all we are.”

  “Aren’t you attracted to me? Because I’m very attracted to you, Donovan. I think you know that. And we’re so at ease with each other!”

  Donovan took a deep breath. “You’re a beautiful woman, Sophie! There’s no doubt about that, but I’m just not...”

  “Is there someone else? Because if there’s someone else, you should have told me!”

  Donovan felt the woman bristle with indignation. He shook his head. “It really doesn’t matter! What matters is that I hope you and I can continue to be friends. I do value our friendship, and I enjoy working with you. I wouldn’t want to see anything happen to that friendship because of a misunderstanding.”

  Sophie sat staring at him, the glare in her eyes shifting to something cold. “Well, don’t I feel silly,” she said. “I’m completely embarrassed. I can’t believe I just threw myself at you like that, just to have you shoot me down.”

  “Don’t be,” he said, shaking his head. “And I didn’t shoot you down. Don’t think like that. We’re just on different pages right now. Maybe some other time, some other place, things would have been different. But I’m a man. Always a day late and a dollar short when it comes to women!” Donovan tried to laugh it off to ease her discomfort. But Sophie wasn’t feeling it.

  Silence swelled thick between them. He suddenly felt even more awkward than he had before. He moved onto his feet, practically jumping out of his seat. “Thank you for lunch...and the company. I had a good time. And again, I’m really sorry if I gave you the wrong impression.”

  Sophie shrugged, fighting not to let her embarrassment flood her face. “Have a good night,” she muttered as she waved a dismissive hand.

  Donovan moved to the other side of the table. He dropped a heavy hand against the woman’s shoulder. She turned her head, leaning to search the interior of her handbag. When she didn’t bother to look at him again, he gave her shoulder a slight squeeze as he said goodbye. Heading in the direction of his car, Donovan suddenly wished he could run, not walk, from the woman’s sight.

  * * *

  His hour-long ride home to Maremma helped ease the anxiety that had afflicted the last few minutes of his time with Sophie. He thought about her and about Alessandra—both women had put him in an awkward position. Although it wasn’t the first time someone had expressed interest in him, Donovan had avoided commitment by throwing himself into his work. Not many women readily accepted taking a backseat to a man’s profession. But he instinctively knew that the few he had dated were not the partners he was meant to spend his life with. And then Gianna had come along.

  He accelerated the car, frustrated by the limited cell service in the area. Before pulling out of the restaurant’s parking lot he’d checked his phone, but there had been no message from the woman. He was hoping that once he got closer to home and a better signal that Gianna might have finally responded to his message.

  Chapter 9

  Donovan caught sight of Raffaello as he pulled his car in front of the cottage. The horse was grazing out in the fields, seemingly oblivious to his surroundings. Donovan’s heart began to race with excitement as he stepped out of his car. Then he heard the two women bickering. Gianna and Signora Rossi sounded like two cats trapped in a burlap bag. His heart skipped a beat, and then a second one. As he neared the front door of his home, he stopped to listen, able to understand more of the language than he’d anticipated.

  Signora Rossi was fussing about pasta and how it needed to be hand-formed. Gianna said something about her father and having perfected his methods of pulling the dough through a pasta machine. One of them mentioned watching Mario Batali and how he did it on television, and then the raised voices sniped at each other again like nails against a chalkboard.

  Amusement painted Donovan’s face as he stepped through the entrance into the house. He looked from one woman to the other, then settled his gaze on Gianna’s face. The two stood in the center of his kitchen, flour dusting Gianna’s face as she took direction from Signora Rossi. Startled, both women jumped in surprise.

  “Hi,” Donovan said, his eyes locking with Gianna’s. He stood staring, something large and magnanimous shifting between them as they eyed each other.

  “Ciao!” she replied, a warm smile pulling at her thin lips.

  Signora Rossi grinned as her own gaze shifted between them. “You are early!” she said, speaking English to him for the very first time.

  His eyes widened in surprise, but before he could respond the old woman rushed him, fanning her hand for him to get out of their way.

  He and Gianna both laughed.

  “I wanted to surprise you with dinner,” Gianna said. “But it seems like I don’t know what I’m doing!”

  He nodded. “I guess I’ll go into the other room until you two are done,” he said, locking gazes with her a second time.

  She nodded. “Read your mail,” she said as he moved toward the bedroom.

  Tossing her a quick glance over his shoulder, he smiled, a huge grin filling his face as he shut the room door between them. As soon as it was closed, the back-and-forth between the two women began again, Signora Rossi admonishing Gianna for not having his meal ready when he came through the door. Donovan couldn’t help but laugh.

  A legal-sized envelope rested in the center of the bed. Donovan took a seat against the mattress as he pulled it into his hands and opened the seal. The letter inside was handwritten, dark ink staining two pages of bright white copy paper. Shifting his large body back against the headboard, Donovan began to read.

  My dearest Donovan,

  I’ve drafted this response more times than I care to count, and just when I thought I was ready to push the send button on my computer, I hesitated. What if you thought the response came from someone other than me? The fear of you not trusting that these words were mine was haunting! Letter writing has become a lost art, but I knew that it needed to be revived between us, and so I put pen to paper.

  Your support of my writing warms my heart. And to have your friendship means the world to me. But you are more than just a friend, and I haven’t even begun to show you just how much more you mean to me.

  So to answer your question, no, it was never my intention to break my hero’s heart. He is my hero! The alpha of my story! But he is also a man, and the circumstances of the story and the actions of those he could not control proved to be his undoing. But he is my hero! And I lay claim to him because he has my heart and is everything I could ever want in a man. Even as he fell, there was no denying his strength, his unyielding ability to rise like the phoenix to fly again! So there was no need to rewrite his ending, because even in his hurt, there was hope and a heroine’s love to pull him from the ashes!

  H
ope! And love! The words of a romantic! Something I knew nothing of...until you.

  PS: I would give anything to have you kiss me again like you kissed me that very first time! I just thought I would share that with you.

  Donovan reread the letter again before tucking it between the pages of his Bible and putting the book on the nightstand. In the other room, laughter rang warmly, even as the clatter of pots and pans vibrated through the air.

  * * *

  Donovan and Gianna talked over bowls of linguine tossed with artichokes, Roma tomatoes and fresh Parmesan cheese. They washed the meal down with a bottle of white wine, then finished it off with slices of tiramisu and cups of dark coffee topped with steamed milk. They talked for hours, falling easily into a comfortable rhythm with each other.

  Outside, Gianna’s horse slumbered on his feet. After clearing the dirty dishes, the young woman rose to check on the animal. Before she returned, she stopped to call her father so that he would not worry about where she was. She wasn’t surprised to learn that the village gossips had already carried the news, everyone whispering about her and the handsome professor. Then she’d called her sister. Carina had cried with excitement, moving Gianna to shed her own tears of joy.

  Back inside, there was a lull in the conversation as both took sips of their hot beverage. Gianna rested her gaze on Donovan’s face. The emotion that suddenly flooded her spirit was unexpected. Being back with him felt surreal, and she imagined that it would be devastating if she suddenly found herself waking from the sweetest dream. As if he were reading her mind, Donovan smiled.

  “I’m sorry,” she said, her voice a loud whisper. “I hope that you know that Carina only wanted the best for both of us. I should have told you the truth the minute I found out what she had done, and I apologize for not doing so.”

  “I do know that, but my feelings were hurt. I felt deceived. Hell, I was deceived! And I didn’t understand why you just weren’t honest with me.” He leaned toward her, dropping his forearms against his thighs as he stared, his hands clasped tightly together.

  A hint of a blush crossed her face. She took a deep breath, blowing it out slowly before she responded. “After I read all the messages you’d sent, I really did want to get to know you. I was curious. Then when we met...well... I thought you were the most beautiful man I’d ever laid eyes on. And one of the sweetest. Once I felt like we’d connected, I didn’t think it would matter. So, no, I’m not going to apologize for how I felt, but I’m sincerely apologetic for not being transparent.”

  He nodded. “What made you change your mind?”

  “I didn’t want our relationship to be built on a lie. You wanted more from me, and when I realized that I did, too, I felt like I owed it to you to be honest.”

  His head continued to bob up and down as he reflected on what she had to say. “So you wanted more?”

  Gianna scooted her chair against his, easing herself closer. She clasped his hands between her own and pressed a kiss against his palm. She shook her head. “No.”

  Donovan suddenly looked confused. “No?”

  She smiled. “I want more. There’s nothing past tense about what I feel for you, Donovan Boudreaux! Or what I hope will happen between us.”

  Donovan smiled. Just as he leaned forward, his face mere millimeters from hers, there was a hard rap at his front door. Before either could stand to answer, the door flew open and Signora Rossi pushed her way inside. She took one look at the two of them and tossed up her hands, her thick accent ringing in the air as she scurried to clean up the dirty dishes.

  Gianna leaned forward and kissed Donovan’s cheek. She brushed her own against the stubble of new growth that had sprouted across his face. Donovan blew a frustrated breath of air past her ear.

  “I should be leaving,” she said. “It’s past your curfew.”

  “I was hoping you could stay,” he whispered, cutting an eye at the old woman who was pretending not to notice them.

  “We’re not ready for that yet,” Gianna answered as she stood, her smile endearing.

  Donovan stood with her and slowly walked her toward the sliding glass doors to the rear patio.

  Signora Rossi called out from the other side of the room. “Dille buonanotte. È necessario il riposo.”

  Donovan’s eyes widened. “Did she just say that I needed my rest?” he muttered.

  Gianna giggled. “And she told you to tell me good-night so you could get that rest.”

  “Dille buonanotte!” Signora Rossi repeated, waving a wooden spoon at the two of them.

  Donovan shook his head, his smile miles wide as Gianna drew her hand along his profile in a gentle caress. There was no denying the wealth of emotion between them. Donovan suddenly imagined that they had a lifetime of loving to carry them forward. Because in that moment, he could have easily said, without an ounce of reservation, that he had fallen head over heels in love with Gianna Martelli. He knew beyond any doubt that he would spend a lifetime ensuring she and everyone else knew it. Those few weeks apart had been telling, and devastating, and he refused to be away from her that long ever again.

  He pressed his forehead to hers, his eyes closed as he held her tightly. When he opened them, every ounce of emotion he was feeling was mirrored in her eyes. She smiled, joy and happiness shimmering in her stare. Donovan suddenly wanted to kiss her.

  As if reading his mind, Gianna gently pressed her closed lips to his, the touch sweet and easy, like the delicate touch of butterfly wings against a blade of summer grass. Donovan felt his heart stop and then start again, and a level of calm washed over them both. Perfection didn’t begin to describe the moment between them.

  “Good night,” she said softly.

  Donovan nodded. “Good night, Gianna!”

  And Signora Rossi had the last word, wishing them both a very good night. “Buonanotte!”

  * * *

  Mason, Kendrick, Guy and Darryl were all laughing into their telephones as the Boudreaux brothers caught up with Donovan via a conference call.

  “That’s taking blocking to a whole other level!” Guy said.

  Donovan nodded, his gaze focused on the road as he talked with his earpiece in place. “I thought our sisters were bad,” he said, “but they’ve got nothing on Signora Rossi!”

  “But it sounds like things are good with you and Gianna, yes?” Kendrick asked.

  “I think we’re on the right path. We’re talking, and things are comfortable between us.”

  “That’s good,” Kendrick said, “because the woman is beautiful. I don’t think you can do any better than that.”

  Donovan laughed. “Excuse me?”

  His brothers all laughed.

  “I’ve seen a picture,” Guy added. “Kendrick might be right.”

  Mason spoke. “As long as it feels right and you’re happy, that’s all that matters. Have you spoken to the old people?”

  “Dad called the other day, and I was planning to call Mom after my morning class today.”

  “Make sure you do that. Mom is missing you. And she’s had a lot to say about you and your new friend. The rest of us are tired of hearing it, so this will give her a chance to tell you directly.”

  Darryl laughed. “Mom’s not missing him! She’s hoping he’ll be married with a child on the way by the time he gets back from Italy.”

  “That may be true,” Mason said in agreement, “but she needs to tell him and not us.”

  “And he might not come back from Italy,” Kendrick interjected.

  There was a brief pause before Mason broke the silence. “Are you thinking about staying in Italy?” he asked.

  Donovan took a deep breath. “I don’t see Gianna wanting to leave.”

  There was a collective sigh from all the brothers.

  Kendrick laughed. “Please, plea
se, please! Have a wedding so your sisters will have something to focus on. I need them to leave me and Vanessa alone!”

  “Just let them give you a damn party and get it over with!” Guy exclaimed. “That’s all they want to do!”

  Mason agreed. “They’re all still pissed that you eloped. Since they couldn’t get a wedding, and Vanessa’s school schedule is keeping them from throwing you guys a reception to celebrate, they’re chomping at the bit!”

  The siblings all laughed as the banter between them continued. By the time Donovan pulled into his parking lot at the university, he’d laughed until tears spilled out of his eyes.

  “I’ve got to go,” he said as he shut off the car. “I’ll give you a guys a call in a few days.”

  “Full day today?” Mason asked.

  “No. I only have office hours this morning, then I’m done for the weekend.”

  “I have to come back for business in a few weeks,” Kendrick said. “Let’s plan on doing dinner.”

  “I think I might come with him,” Mason said.

  “I think we should all go. Make it a guy’s trip,” Guy said.

  “I’m in!” Darryl chimed.

  Donovan cosigned. “Sounds like a plan!”

  After saying their goodbyes, he disconnected the call and headed for the entrance. Accustomed to Sophie meeting him at the door, he was only slightly surprised to not see her standing there. After grabbing his mail from the boxes in the office, he headed for the common area to fulfill his office hours and be available to his students.

  Donovan favored the out-of-office environment and had discovered over the years that many of his students preferred to seek him out in an open area instead of behind closed doors. A public environment also made things easier when dealing with students like Alessandra.

  She sat waiting, like a stalker, desperate to seek him out. Pacing the floors, she almost jumped with joy as he moved in her direction. “Dr. Boudreaux, I thought you forgot about me.”

 

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