Page 32 of Destino

Giovanni stared at her for a moment deciding on the interrogation. “I’m willing to try,” he said not touching his food, preferring her and the new game between them. She smiled and put her glass back on the table.

“First question, where were you born?”

“Mondello Beach. It’s in Sicily.”

“Did you go to college?” she asked.

“I did.”

She stopped chewing. If she weren’t such a lady her mouth would probably be agape. Did she really think him a thug?

“You did?” She used her napkin to cover her mouth while she spoke.

“Shocked?”

“Oh, no. I mean… I’m sorry what school?”

“Harvard.”

She stared into his handsome face, realizing her impressions of him were unfounded, and she’d been extremely prejudiced. He went to college in America? She hadn’t expected to hear that. “What did you study?”

“International law. I left my last year of school.”

“Why?” She swallowed, her voice soft with concern.

“My father summoned me. Two days after my return he was shot. He died of those wounds later. The family needed me.”

“That’s awful.” Her hand reached across the table and covered his. Giovanni smiled, turning over his hand so his palm could grace her soft smaller one. He imagined all of her was as soft.

No, he didn’t find her cold. He wanted more of the warmth he felt like this. “Grazie Bella. I’m okay now with my choices.”

“And his death?” she asked. “Did they catch the people who did it?”

Giovanni hesitated. He never picked at that wound. “No.” He half-lied. ThePolizia di Statodidn’t catch his father’s murderer, but he had. Thanks to his cousin. The lovely woman before him wouldn’t appreciate his brand of justice, so he kept that information to himself. The softness of her touch drew away and he clasped her hand tightly to prevent her escape. He brought her palm to his mouth and pressed a soft kiss to the center. “My turn.”

“Okay.”

“Where were you born?”

“Small town in West Virginia. The United States.”

“Do you have a husband?”

A shadow of regret passed over her pretty features. It was so fleeting he couldn’t be sure. She flashed a sweet smile and shook her head slowly. “No.”

“Boyfriend?”

“No.”

“Lover?”

Her gaze lifted and rested on his. They stared into each other’s eyes for another uncomfortable pause before she spoke. “No.”

“Why Italy? I’ve read in the papers that you are permanently relocating your business to Napoli.”

“It’s true, I plan to make Napoli my home. I chose Italy because, well, it’s a good balance between tradition and fashion. I love all that I’ve seen.”

“Sounds like a statement you’d make for the press.”

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