by Annie Seaton
Gabriel reached out and shook Nic’s hand. “I believe that you would like me to set up the drinks at Gia’s show.” He stared at Nic with a frown and she held back a sigh. Why is everything to do with me a drama? What is wrong with my family? Or is it me?
Nic nodded and Gabriel glanced at her before turning his attention back to Nic. “Perhaps you and I can meet one afternoon, Nic?”
That would be right. Don’t include me. Gia huffed and walked over to Nic’s car while they discussed a meeting time, their voices low. Finally agreement must have been reached, and they shook hands again before Nic followed her and started the car.
The road was busy with cars, bicycles, and pedestrians as the locals and tourists enjoyed the balmy spring afternoon. Gia felt a little better as they drove, but she wanted to get her strange mood down on canvas.
Nic followed her into the cottage. He was quiet, too, and she wondered what had changed between them.
“So, I’m going to paint for a while. What about you?” Gia turned and looked at him.
“I’ll sit and watch if that’s okay with you?” He’d been watching her paint every day for the past week and hadn’t asked permission since that first day. Nic wandered over to the window and stared outside while she set up. He seemed distracted. Maybe her family had been too much for him, but he’d seemed to enjoy himself while he was there.
Five minutes later, Gia was in her own world.
Chapter Ten
Nic stretched out on the cushion-strewn sofa and watched Gia as she painted. There was something different about the way she painted this afternoon. She seemed distant. The bold strokes were gone and she was painting in soft pastels. Her brush was narrow-tipped and her strokes were gentle. A soft evening sky appeared on the canvas as he watched. Despite her slow strokes, the picture formed quickly. A haze surrounded the tops of the trees and the sky was soft with mist. Nic closed his eyes. Her talent blew him away.
He must have dozed off, because a gentle hand on his shoulder woke him a while later. The room was almost dark and Gia had packed away her paints. She’d obviously showered; her hair was wet and her black curls were stuck in ringlets to her neck.
“Wake up, sleepyhead,” she whispered.
Nic reached up and pulled her down beside him on the sofa. “You okay?”
“Yes, why?”
“You didn’t seem to have a very good time this afternoon.”
He felt Gia’s shoulders lift in a shrug as she lay beside him. “Nothing different from usual. That’s my family.”
Nic turned onto his side. Gia’s expression was still closed, and his throat ached as a strange feeling wrapped around him. Reaching up, he tucked a strand of wet hair behind her ear. “That was a very different painting you started before.”
She nodded and didn’t speak, but her eyes held his.
No matter what her mood was, Gia touched him in ways he’d never experienced before. He lifted her chin and placed a light kiss on her lips. Her mouth opened slowly beneath his and her tongue tentatively touched his lips. He pulled back and looked at her. Need shimmied through Nic, a different need from the urgency of their passion of the past week. It was foolish to be nervous after all they’d shared, but his hands trembled as he reached out to hold Gia against him. The strange feeling that embraced him filled his thoughts.
I want her. Not just for now, not just for the next few days, and not just for this exhibition. He wanted her to be a part of his life, and he wanted to share who he was with her. If he didn’t, they had nothing. Any relationship would be based on falsity. It was bad enough that Gabriel had told him this afternoon he knew Nic was a Baldini. He had spent enough time in Florence and read the business magazines to recognize him. Despite the inquisition, Mauro didn’t know. Nic had managed to extract a promise that Gabriel would not disclose that to either his father or to Gia; they were meeting tomorrow afternoon.
Not yet. He wanted her exhibition to go ahead. He wouldn’t risk blowing that for her. But he was filled with uneasiness.
As Gia looked steadily back at him, he saw his feelings mirrored in her eyes. Did she know what he was thinking? She was so beautiful, so fresh and natural. It was her lack of artifice that had first attracted him and now that attraction was spiraling into a deeper need. Guilt for his lack of honesty with her settled in his gut like a stone, and he knew it was vital for whatever they had to be honest and share the truth about who he was. She was different from the other women who had tried to take advantage of his wealth. He was sure of it. But that was about all he was sure about as her eyes held his. Could he trust her?
“Gia?” Digging deep for courage, he lifted her hand and pressed his lips to her paint-stained fingers. “I need to talk to you.”
“What about?”
“Your commitment to your art and what a good person you are. What a special person you are. How I understand what your dreams are and how you want to follow them. How you must follow them, and I need to talk to you about—”
Gia leaned into him and her voice was shaky as she interrupted him. “Do you know what that means to me? To hear you say that? All my life, my family—my father, my mother, my brother, and sister have treated me as though I don’t have a thought of my own. They plan for me and they map my life out and they have no idea of who I am. I need to be myself and make my own decisions, my own mistakes.”
Nic closed his eyes. And here am I about to map out her life for her. “Gia, I must tell you—”
“And now you want to tell me what to do. But not now.” She turned her lips into his palm and licked his skin. Fire whipped through Nic and he groaned. He lowered his mouth to hers and their kiss was soft but still full of desire. It soothed and eased the urgency of being honest with her, of telling her who he was. He would tell her later.
Time passed slowly and all Nic was aware of was Gia’s soft body pressed against his. He ran his fingers through her wet tangled curls. She opened her mouth beneath his and welcomed him in as she tugged his shirt from his jeans.
Her hands moved slowly over his back as their lips stayed together. Gia murmured softly against his mouth as she caressed him. Reluctantly he lifted his mouth from hers and sat up in one swift move, pulling his shirt over his head, unable to ignore the pressing need for a minute more. She drew her own shirt up, lifting her head from the sofa as it tangled in her wet hair. Nic smiled and helped pull the shirt over her head, grinning at the paint stains marring the white shirt she had worn to lunch. Then his mouth dried as her bare breasts filled his vision. Coraggio, the letters he had painted on her breasts—God, was it only a week ago—had faded and were almost gone. Now the only color was in the dusky pink of her nipples. They pebbled as he gazed down at her.
A groan came from deep within Nic as he lowered his head and took one nipple in his mouth. Gia arched beneath him as he let his tongue roll around the tight bud. Her hands returned to his back and her fingers left a trail of fire on his skin. Gently he laved each breast and her small sighs spurred him on. He let his fingers drift lower, brushing the soft skin of her stomach before dropping lower and teasing, lightly touching her before moving down and caressing the soft skin of her inner thigh.
His blood ran hot as she let out a soft gasp each time his fingers brushed her sex, but Nic held back, wanting to give Gia a slow, gentle pleasure. He was in no hurry; they had all night. She responded to his touch with a small moan, and he increased the pressure of his fingers, finally entering her damp folds. When she cried out with a shudder that shook her entire body, Nic took her mouth and kissed her as her muscles clenched around his fingers.
…
Gia stretched and sighed and turned to face Nic. Her strange mood had lingered, reinforced by the gentle loving that Nic had shown her. The passion that usually took over when they had made love all this past week had still been there, but Nic had been soft and gentle and the orgasm that had followed had been stronger for the slow build up. Now, he lay quietly beside her, as small ripples of pleas
ure ran through her, but he made no move to take his own pleasure. She lowered her hand and encircled him, and his eyes widened.
“We’ll have to go to the bedroom,” Nic said softly. “I haven’t got a condom out here.” He sat up and held his hand out.
Gia put on a mock pout before she smiled up at him and took his hand. “Well, you’d better take me there.” He pulled her up to her feet, but when his arms went around her, she lifted her face for another gentle kiss. She felt cherished…and valued. They stood there quietly with their arms around each other, each lost in their own thoughts. Gia eventually leaned back with a sigh. She was going to miss him when he went back to work. The sooner she could get to Florence, the better. She had to make this show the best she could. With Nic’s help, she could do it.
…
Nic draped his arm casually around Gia’s shoulder as they walked to her bedroom. She leaned into him, and he buried his face in her hair as they stood by the side of the bed. She slid her hands down to her waist and slipped off her jeans.
Holy hell. Where had the little shy village girl disappeared to? She lay back on the bed and opened her arms. Nic groaned as he saw the expanse of bare skin in front of him.
“Do you ever wear underwear?” His voice was husky, and he bent forward and put a hand on either side of her.
“Do you always wear jeans to bed?” Her smile was cheeky. As Nic undid the top button of his Levis, his cell phone rang in his back pocket. “Ignore it.”
Nic grimaced, pulled his phone out and glanced down at the caller.
Shit. Antonio. Something was wrong. His brother wouldn’t call otherwise.
“Hold that pose.” Nic flicked a saucy grin at Gia and stepped into the studio as he picked up the call. “One second…maybe two,” he promised.
He put the phone to his ear but didn’t get a chance to speak before Antonio’s urgent words reached him.
“The deal’s gone to shit.”
“Which one?” Nic lowered his voice.
“The only one. The one you went to New York for, Nic. Papa is here, pacing like a caged lion.”
“But that was in the bag.” Nic chose his words carefully, conscious of Gia in the next room. He glanced back into the room. She had rolled onto her stomach, her chin propped in her hand watching him. Two perfectly-shaped butt cheeks curved down to the tops of her thighs and Nic swallowed, trying to focus on his brother’s next words.
“Not anymore.”
Shit, shit, shit. Nic knew he had to get out of here now and make some calls. He had signed the preliminary agreement with the Campbells, the largest bathroom and kitchen supplier in the States. Not only did the company’s future export growth depend on the deal, Nic had invested a significant amount of his own fortune into it. If the deal fell through—and Nic still couldn’t understand why it was at risk—the hospital funding would be in jeopardy, as well as the villa being used for the art students.
“Where are you? In Florence?” This time when he caught Gia’s eye, Nic knew his smile was preoccupied.
“Yes, Papa called and we came straight to the office. They’ve emailed the contract with the changes they want. I’ve printed it and I’m going through it now. Tad’s on his way in.”
If Antonio had called their attorney in on the weekend, Nic knew this was serious. He had no choice. He was going to have to leave. Antonio’s next words dismissed any second thought he may have had. “If we don’t agree, the Faidiga family is lined up and ready to sign. The Campbells have already talked to them.”
“Bloody hell.” Nic hadn’t been aware that the other big marble company in Carrara had been in negotiations with the Campbell Company in New York. Heads were going to roll over this monumental stuff up. Cold anger filled him. Someone had not kept him informed about every last detail of this deal.
“How long?” Gia was following every word of his conversation so Nic tried to keep his responses brief and ambiguous.
The timing of this absolutely sucks. If he’d been in Florence or Carrara, looking after things, he would have seen this coming. Mamma, maybe following my destiny is not a good idea. He’d been sucked in with sentimental memories.
“Eight hours.”
“I’m on my way. Wait for me.”
Nic disconnected the call and ran his hand though his hair. He wanted to stay with Gia but he had to leave.
He had no choice. For the benefit of the company, and his plans and the retreat, Nic had to go to Florence. He walked slowly into the bedroom and over to the bed. Gia’s eyes didn’t leave him. The organization of the show was safely in Ben’s hands so he didn’t have to worry about the impact of his departure on the trustee vacancy.
“Is everything okay, Nic?” Her voice was soft and full of concern. “You look so worried.
Nic placed his hand on her bare hip and pushed away the desire that was still simmering in his blood. His mind was in Florence.
“I have to go.” He reached down for this shirt that lay on the floor.
“What’s wrong?”
Shaking his head, he pulled his car keys out of his pocket. He leaned down to give her an absent kiss. “I’ll tell you about it later. Don’t worry, it’s nothing to do with you or the show. Just family stuff.”
…
Gia lay on the bed. When the sound of the roadster faded down the hill, she slid from the bed and headed for the shower.
Her hair was half-dry and a tangled mess, so she soaked it with her strawberry–scented conditioner and then stood under the warm water, letting it saturate her. She tipped her head forward and the water soothed the tension at the back of her neck. It had been a difficult day, and Nic leaving so suddenly with no explanation—not that she was really entitled to one—added to her confusion. Nothing to do with you, he’d said. A little spurt of hurt rose in her gut. Just like the patronizing way the men of her family treated her. She wondered for the first time, if Nic was hiding something from her. Occasionally over the past few days, she’d been tempted to comment about how he had taken over this exhibition, but then she’d stop and think that if it wasn’t for Nic, there would be no exhibition. Small things she hadn’t taken much notice of in isolation all began to add up.
Am I making him into someone he’s not? Have I put him in the role of rescuer because that is what I want? The damsel in distress from their very first meeting? Maybe she’d made her fairy tale dream come true? Her world was always colored in the tones and hues of what she believed, and Gia knew she was too trusting. When Papa had refused to fund her move to Florence, his words had cut deep, even though he had been trying to be kind.
You are living in a fantasy world, bella. It would never work out.
Was Nic’s promise the right answer? Or should she just keep slogging away and saving her money? Was she only dreaming and looking for the easy way? And would Nic really follow through with what he’d said? Maybe he was a dreamer, just like she was? Was she letting him take too much control? Nothing had ever come of a written agreement, and she had let it slide because she trusted him.
Gia closed her eyes and tipped her head back as confusion overwhelmed her. The warm water ran in soft trails down her cheeks. Why had Nic left so suddenly with little explanation? Was this all destined to end up in tears?
She’d grabbed onto Nic as a way to escape this life she was stuck in. Was she reading too much into what had happened between them? A heavy feeling of pending disappointment settled in her chest, and Gia put her hand to her breast and glanced down.
Only a pale pink outline of the letters remained. The scarlet paint had worn off through the week. Gia reached for the bar of soap on the shelf behind her and slowly scrubbed the last traces of the word away. It was time to stand on her own two feet. Nic had presented her with this marvelous opportunity. He was going to help her, and he’d promised to call the man who would then help her plan her future if she sold her paintings at the exhibition.
Until Nic gave her reason not to, she would trust him.
&nbs
p; Gia scrubbed away the last tiny speck of paint on her breast and shook her head.
Coraggio.
Not if she sold her paintings. When she did.
…
Nic and Antonio salvaged the deal, and their copy of the contracts had been signed, witnessed, and sent back to New York with a couple of hours to spare before he hit the autostrada and headed back to Castellina. The ball was in the Campbell’s court now, but Nic was confident they had solved the problem. But he couldn’t allow himself to get cocky until the deal was finalized. He could have handled it by phone, but in his usual way, he needed to be there and have total control, even with his father standing beside them listening to every word of the conference call to New York. Now, with that sorted out, he could focus on Gia’s show and then get back to Carrara at the end of the week.
Almost losing that contract had been a huge wake-up call for him. The traffic was quiet and a light shower of rain had wet the road and kept him alert. His mind spun as he’d admitted to himself what it would have meant to lose that deal. He had to prioritize his life. Telling Antonio to leave him alone while he was off following his mother’s dream for him had been selfish and naive. They had a billion dollar company to run. Playing around with his art was well and good, but he couldn’t put a deal like that at risk because he was chasing a gypsy’s story.
Mamma, I love you. But you were wrong. Now I can see where I need to be.
It’s time for honesty. I need to be upfront with Gia.
He arrived back at her cottage just before midnight and parked the car on the grass. A low light shone through the studio window and he smiled. It looked like she was still working. Anticipation ran though him as he stood on the front porch and tapped on the door.
“Come.” Gia’s soft voice was distracted. Nic pushed the door open. She stood in front of her easel, the tip of her tongue resting on her bottom lip as she stared at the landscape in front of her.
Nic walked over, slid his arms around her waist, and buried his face in her curls. The strawberry scent was so overpowering his mouth watered. Gia turned in his arms, and he lifted his hand to wipe away a single smudge of paint on her cheek.