by Annie Seaton
“Look, I really have to get home.” She turned away from him, but he still held her arm. Goose bumps touched her skin despite the warmth of the night. Turning back to face him, she narrowed her eyes and tried to keep her voice free of uncertainty. “What do you know about art? Why would you think my paintings are any good?”
Deep blue eyes held hers. “Because I dabble in art, and I have never been so touched as I was by the movement in your landscapes.”
…
Nic held Gia’s arm lightly. The moonlight highlighted her wide eyes, and he was scared she would scamper away like the frightened rabbit she reminded him of. No wonder she seemed to lack assurance in herself. He’d seen the way her father had set aside her work. A talent like hers deserved to be recognized. No, more than recognized; it must be exhibited. Celebrated. Shared with the world. Already, his thoughts surged ahead. He was planning his tactics, ready to persuade Gia to listen to him. Excitement thrummed in his veins as he mentally calculated his strategy. As much as he hated it, he’d switched into business mode. Lately, that came with more frequency than his creative muse. Odder still, he liked the surge of excitement that accompanied it. To present an artist, discovered by him… That is, if the rest of her work was to his standard.
He sought the right words to convince her—without scaring her off and without sounding too pushy. Without her knowing he was one of the Baldinis her father had criticized. He could sponsor her. He could organize an exhibition. That was if she had enough work completed. Thinking quickly, Nic formulated a plan in his head. He’d plan every last detail, and her discovery would convince the board where his interest lay. Without someone supporting her, she would spend her life painting in this rustic village, undiscovered and unknown. Warmth flooded him. It would be great to help her achieve success. Because he had no doubt she had the talent. But did she have the staying power to make it?
None of his previous protégés had as much talent as he’d seen in those four small landscapes. And not one of them had the dedication to develop the talent they did have…not when the money flow had stopped.
Go carefully. Don’t get too excited.
He let go of Gia’s arm and stepped back to give her some space, looking past her down to the village. The tall tower of the Fortress of Castellina was lit up by a spotlight, providing a beacon to the center square of the village. A soft blue light played on the high tower.
Gia folded her arms. Despite the shadows, he could see the frown that wrinkled her forehead again, and then her glasses slipped down her nose. She pushed them up impatiently with a paint-stained finger.
“I have an eye for art, Gia. And you are exceptionally talented.”
“Really? Do you really think that?” The uncertainty in her voice almost broke his heart. Her family had done a real number on her confidence.
“And what do you mean, you dabble?” She tipped her head to the side and stared at him curiously as though dabbling and art did not go in the same sentence
“I mean I love to paint, but I don’t get much time for it.” Nic’s laugh was slightly bitter as he shook his head. If only he could live in this countryside and paint all day, every day. “I’m here on vacation and I will paint while I’m here. Like many tourists who come to visit this region.” He stepped to the car and opened the passenger door. “Look, why don’t you come with me, and we can go back down into the village for a drink? I’d love to hear more about your techniques.”
“Uh-uh.” Gia shook her head and turned around, pointing to her stained clothes. “I’m in no state to go anywhere.”
“So how about I drive you home and you can change?” He stood back as she observed him, and he knew he was being summed up.
“Where are you staying?” she finally said.
“I am staying at a place a few miles along the road.”
“Where?” She was persistent and although he should say the Baldini villa—Mauro’s reaction had been enough for one night—he admired her caution.
“I’m…er… renting a holiday place up that way.” He waved toward the hill in front of them. “So what do you say? Will you trust me enough to go for a drink in the village?”
Gia stood back and Nic watched as one scarlet-tipped finger tapped her bottom lip. He smiled. He was more used to escorting women who had long fingernails scarlet from expensive manicures, not because they’d dipped their fingers into paint.
“Please? I’d really like to show you how sorry I am for causing you that fright on your bike. I was going to look for you tomorrow in the village, but finding you tonight was meant to be.” He didn’t want to be too pushy, so he waited while she looked at him.
“Okay, but how about some gelato instead of a drink? I haven’t eaten yet today. I’ve been too busy.”
“How about dinner, then?”
Gia laughed and the sound was attractive. “I thought you had dinner already? Vegetable soup?” Her face broke into a grin, and the interest that had been stirring in Nic’s chest firmed into something more tangible. Her lips were softly parted, and even as he chuckled, he appreciated the sweet cupid shape of her top lip. In all her glorious disarray, she was quite lovely. If you took away the ghastly spectacles and tamed the wild mane of hair that was standing in a messy cloud around her head—she’d pulled the braid undone—she’d be downright gorgeous. The smile softened her serious face, and Nic was pleasantly surprised by the change in her attitude.
“Okay, ice cream does it for me. Where do we go?”
Gia walked across the car and opened the passenger door. “If you are happy to take me home first and wait for me while I change, I’ll take you to the best gelateria in all of Italy.”
“All of Italy? That’s a big call.” Nic followed her and held the car door open.
She grinned up at him as she slid into the low slung seat. “Everywhere I’ve been, anyway.”
And that was probably not many places. His impression of the village—and her family—was that this was where life was lived. Not like the jet-setting life of his family. Skiing in the Swiss Alps, swimming on the French Riviera. That was why the Baldinis hadn’t used the Tuscan villa enough to make the locals happy. They had houses all around Europe. But it was not the time to share that; he didn’t want to frighten her off. He had to see more of her work.
He’d made progress, and now that Gia had agreed to come with him he’d have a chance to see it. He vaulted over the side of the car and slipped into the driver’s seat.
Gia shook her head and smiled at him as he started the car. “I’m not that easily impressed, you know. I’ve got a big brother. Macho stuff doesn’t work for me.”
The sports car purred along the road, and the silence was companionable while he waited for directions to her cottage. “I met your brother tonight.” He flicked a glance over to her. She was leaning back, letting the breeze rush over her face and her hair was in even wilder disarray. Untamed. His fingers tingled as he thought of running his hands through that wild mass of curls. Had he thought her hair a messy cloud? The lush curls were gorgeous.
“Lucky you.” A soft chuckle escaped her lips. “Poor Gabriel, he doesn’t know when to stop. Usually I don’t let him bother me, but tonight—”
Nic was aware of her studying his profile as he focused on driving up the hilly road.
“Tonight?” he prompted when she didn’t continue.
“No matter. I was just out of sorts.” She waved a hand. Nic was hard pressed to keep his eyes on the road. Her lips were naturally a deep rosy pink and slightly parted as she rested her head on the leather headrest. He wondered if she had any idea of the beauty simmering beneath the shy facade she presented.
Gia pointed to an opening just beyond a stand of trees, and he slowed the car and turned in to park beside a low wooden gate. Before she could open the car door, he stepped over the low door on his side and walked around to open hers. He held his hand out to help her up from the passenger seat and satisfaction ran through him as she dropped her ga
ze. She was reticent, but the sparks were smoldering beneath the surface. Her fingers lingered in his for a few seconds after she climbed out.
“I’ll be quick.” She ventured a shy smile as she pulled her hand from his and turned to the gate.
As he waited by the car he appreciated the view of her long, shapely legs as she hurried across to the stone cottage. He didn’t want to scare her off, even though she did appear more comfortable with him. He was anxious to see the rest of her paintings, and he was keen get to know her on a different level, but he would bide his time. Many of the business deals he’d pulled off in the last year had called on his patience, and often involved playing a cat and mouse game. So he wasn’t going to appear overeager to Gia. He had a feeling she’d run like the startled rabbit he’d compared her to before.
First priority. Win her trust. See her art.
He leaned back against the car. The moonlight was bright enough to see the buildings beyond the gate Gia had closed behind her. An old stone farmhouse with a couple of small outbuildings sat on the side of the hill, with a magnificent view over the valley and the village below. Everywhere he looked, there was a landscape waiting to be painted. A few minutes later, when the door closed behind Gia, an outside light came on, bathing the building in bright light. The faded pink stone had the aged look of an original Tuscan farmhouse, and the weathered shutters hung crookedly from some of the small windows. Other windows were missing their shutters. The only thing that was well maintained was the yard. From the other side of the gate, to the door that Gia had disappeared through, the lawn was dark and lush, but clipped neatly along the edges.
A paved area next to the small building was filled with weathered, half wine casks and flowers spilled over their sides. Small circular gardens were planted around the bases of the tall spreading trees that dotted the lawn. It would make a wonderful subject for a still-life piece. Despite his mind being focused on the landscapes he had seen tonight, Nic’s fingers tingled with the need to hold a paintbrush and replicate what was in front of him. The moonlight made the scene even more enticing. What would make it perfect would be Gia as the focus of the painting, her classically beautiful face turned up to the moon. Nic jerked his thoughts back to reality and stifled a laugh. The moon. His mother would have been most impressed. Neither he nor his brother had held regard for her obsession with the star signs; but she’d made sure he knew all about the Cancerian behaviors she believed would guide his life. A pang of sadness ran through him. He thought he’d grieved long and hard enough, but memories of his mother had filled his thoughts since he’d arrived in Tuscany.
Nic shook off his feeling as the door closed. He watched Gia walk slowly across the lawn to him.
Or at least he thought it was her. The woman who opened the gate looked very different from the young waitress who’d left him waiting beside the sports car. Nic’s breath caught and he managed to ask, “All set?” before he dragged in a deep breath. The baggy clothes, the wild hair, and the black spectacles were gone.
Gia looked at him from beneath her lashes as she closed the gate and slid into the passenger seat while he held the door open for her. “I’m not sure this is such a good idea.” Her voice was hesitant. “If Gabriel finds out I went out tonight after going home ill, I’ll be in trouble.”
“But doesn’t your father own the restaurant?” Nic had regained his breath and his voice was steady. But not so the rest of him. A tremble ran down his spine. Gia was more than attractive; she was beautiful.
“Gabriel is the manager. He wouldn’t be happy. They were very busy tonight. I should’ve stayed.” Her voice was resigned.
“Do you like working there?” Nic fought the need to keep his eyes on Gia, so he focused on starting the car. Her sweet, delicate perfume—something fruity—drifted over to him. Strawberries.
“No, I hate it.” She folded her arms across her chest and Nic tried to keep his eyes away from the soft shadow between the swell of her breasts. Despite her tall, slender build, there was certainly nothing lacking beneath her low-neck, fitted T-shirt.
“So why do you stay there?” Nic put the car into reverse and backed out onto the narrow road. He put his arm along the back of the seat and his fingers accidentally brushed against Gia’s skin. She’d pulled her curls up into some sort of topknot, and it had left her neck bare. Nick ignored the urge to run his fingers down the slender curve to that sweet hollow at the base of her throat.
“Sorry.” He put his hand back on the steering wheel and turned the car toward the village.
“I have to pay my rent.’ She gave a rueful shrug. “Although it is not much, it’s an old farmhouse and it’s run down. I also have to buy my canvases and my paints.” Her reply was soft. “And it makes my father happy—having me work there with the rest of the family.”
They didn’t speak again until they’d passed the restaurant and taken the last hill down toward the village. Gia pointed to a building on the left side of the crossroad. “Over there.”
Nic parked the car across the road from the brightly lit gelateria. He’d intended to do the gentlemanly thing and open the door for Gia again, but she was out and waiting on the curb before he could shut his door. Certainly not what he was used to. The women he usually took out expected to be pampered and looked after by their escorts. But then, they were usually with him at the theater or a fancy restaurant, not an ice cream shop in a little village in the Tuscan countryside. But he never took a date on his gallery visits. That was one place he always went alone. He didn’t want to have to pander to someone else when he was absorbed in appreciating the latest exhibition. Despite her hesitancy, there was an aura of confidence about Gia—Nic couldn’t quite figure out the two different sides he was seeing, but he was sure going to enjoy finding out. He checked the car was secure and joined her at the edge of the curb and smiled. “You must be hungry.”
She walked ahead of him as they crossed the road. She wore a short black skirt and her legs were bare. Her feet were slipped into colorful sandals. Her T-shirt, molding the curves he’d checked out in the car, was a dark scarlet. The curves hadn’t been apparent beneath the waitress uniform.
He was surprised again when she paused outside the shop and checked out the crowd inside. He frowned. She really was intimidated by her family. Maybe this idea of his wasn’t such a good one. He could see complications arising if it was such a big deal just to go out and buy ice cream.
Then he thought of those paintings he’d seen in the restaurant. It would be worth it.
Chapter Three
Gia did not regret ditching her eyeglasses. So things were a bit blurry; she would cope. For the first time in ages, she wanted to look…well… she wanted to look sexy, and those damn square black glasses were ugly. She’d rather go without them and get by as best she could. After all, they were only eating ice cream. She was well aware of Nic standing beside her, even though he was a tiny bit blurred. She’d already taken her fill of looking at his face tonight when she still had her glasses on, and even if she’d closed her eyes now, she’d be able to picture the color of his eyes, the curve of his sexy full lips, and that glorious dimple in his chin. The woodsy aftershave was enough of a dead giveaway as to how close he was to her, and the warmth tingling on her skin warned her that he was close enough for her to lean into him—if she’d wanted to.
And she did.
It had been a long time since she’d taken so much care with her appearance, and Gia was still trying to figure out why her commonsense had fled. Maybe it was because being out with a sexy man—one who was interested in her art— was so different from her usual boring life? Maybe it was because Nic looked so…so perfect? He appealed to her artistic eye; that was all. The only stimulation Gia got in her predictable days was when she was painting. It was the only time she felt truly alive…and happy. There was nothing like the anticipation of looking at a blank canvas, imagining her thoughts and feelings and letting them fill the emptiness as bright splashes of color. In a
way, it filled the emptiness that she always carried inside. She was alone in the midst of her vibrant family, but independence was important to her.
Independence? Standing on my own two feet?
Now she turned to Nic and tried not to squint as she looked up at him. If she peered closely, she’d be able to see him more clearly, but she didn’t want to frighten him off by pulling faces.
She grinned. Not until I’ve had my ice cream, anyway.
“What are you smiling about?” Nic’s breath brushed the nape of her neck as he leaned closer to speak to her. “Not that I’m complaining.”
“I’m happy.” She reached out and touched his arm.
His deep voice rumbled through her. “Then you’re easy to please, if all it takes is ice cream.”
They strolled into the gelateria, and Nic raised his eyebrows at the crowd of people inside. A small group of women with a mix of accents were deliberating over their choice. Gia recognized them from the restaurant the other night. They were authors from all over the world staying at the local hotel just a little way up from the restaurant. Gia had enjoyed serving them, but she knew they didn’t recognize her as the plain waitress from Giannino’s now. She leaned forward and spoke to one of the women.
“I recommend the fig and ginger,” she said, pointing to a tub of white ice cream at the front of the display.
The woman turned to her with a smile; her accent was broad Australian. “Nothing beats local knowledge. Come on, gals, hurry up and choose. We’re holding up this sweet young couple.”
Couple? Gia stepped back a little way from Nic. She hadn’t been part of a couple since Stefano, and she had become used to her own company. But it was nice to have company tonight, to have a good looking man at her side.
Enjoy it while I can. It beat the hell out of clearing dirty dishes in the restaurant, which was what she should have been doing right now.