Page 44 of Destino

“She didn’t mean to offend you Giovanni, she only—.”

“Let her finish her questions, Bella. I’m sure she’s quite capable to explain what the meaning is behind them.” He reclined in his chair and regarded Fabiana with open hostility. He did so in a way that Mira didn’t appreciate. It was killing the sexy flirtatious banter between them that had her considering him in a new light. In that moment the man seemed quite dangerous.

“We’re done with this topic. Let’s move on.” Mira said to them both. Fabiana gave Giovanni a gracious smile and bowed her head slightly in respect. He however continued to glare.

“Yes, let’s move on.” Mira said to him directly.

“Agreed.” Fabiana spoke, sipping her wine, swallowing, and speaking again. “Besides, I think we are all past introductions. I was just making conversation.”

“We are past it, aren’t we Giovanni?” Mira asked. He looked her way. She smiled sweetly at him and hoped whatever it was that had offended him could be forgotten. It was rude to insult the man. If she had put Lorenzo on the hot seat the way Fabiana did she would be furious. What the Battaglia’s did or didn’t do was none of their business.

“I thought I introduced myself properly earlier.” He moistened his lips and smiled her way. Mira’s eyes stretched. She noticed how Fabiana watched the exchange and tried to cover her embarrassment. She couldn’t be more mortified. If he even insinuated what they’d done in his room she would sink through the floor. “Like I said the movie was just a movie. I don’t have a label for you. Don’t need one.”

“Girl, what has you squirming over there?” Fabiana gave her a critical squint.

“Come va!” Lorenzo stormed into the room freshly changed. He wore a dark blue shirt and khaki-brown slacks. He yanked a chair back and sat down in a huff. Lorenzo had a flushed hurried manner about him. Wait. Was he sunburned? How long was that hike back to the villa? His face and neck was red as a beet.

“What happened to you?” Giovanni asked. “Your woman says your car broke down.”

“His woman!” Fabiana exclaimed. “Excuse me?”

Mira drank her wine and hoped her friend would let the reference pass. Fabiana rolled her eyes and laughed it off.

“Yes. I had car trouble. I had to walk then I found a vespa unattended on the side of the road.” Lorenzo dismissed the concern. He lifted a glass. “I want to propose a toast. To our lovely guests, and the next two days. May they be as promising as the first.”

Mira lifted her glass. She glanced over to Giovanni who clinked his with hers. She kept her eyes on him during her long sip. The night had already started off with a bang. When Giovanni looked her way she caught that gleam of desire in his eyes again. Despite the tension earlier she relaxed and nodded his way.

****

Despite the numbness weighing down her lids, Mira woke exhausted and sensually disturbed after the day she had. There would be no hope of sleep. Blame it on the wine, her handsome suitor, or the whirlwind adventure her life had turned into since she left New York. Dinner had been nice. The conversation flowed. She even practiced a few words of Italian with everyone’s encouragement. Giovanni was charming. The more time she spent with the man, the more she felt drawn to him. And just when she thought the night had promise for her to get to know more of him, he was summoned away. A tall brooding giant in a suit entered the room, said a few words in his ear and they were gone. Gone!

Frustrated, she rolled over under the coverlet and squeezed her eyes shut. Her mind refused to turn off. She remembered everything. From his touch, to his kiss. She recalled every single sensation that made her toes curl. Reaching for her pillow she stuffed it between her legs and sucked in a deep breath, exhaling slowly. Nothing offered relief.

A door slammed.

Every bone in her body stiffened. Did she hear a door slam? She glanced back over her shoulder. She was positive she heard it. What time was it? Mira sat up, her hands flat to either side of her. She stared through the darkness to her locked bedroom door. “No girl. Don’t do it. Sleep. I’m going to sleep!” she grunted falling back on her pillow, and turning over. “I’m going to sleep.”

Giovanni shrugged off his sports coat. He tossed it to the chair. Some vacation this turned out to be. No matter his travels, there was business to be had in nearly every hamlet. Tonight had been strange. Don Calderone, who had been enraged that his son Giuseppe missed a very important meeting with Giovanni’s men, had summoned him. After the opening hostilities subsided, Giovanni felt sympathy for the old man. Giuseppe was a royal fuck up and his only heir. So he tolerated another reschedule of meetings in exchange for additional land purchases in the triangle. The old man had the nerve to try to remind him of the way business was done in the past with his father. As if he cared.

Once he unbuttoned his shirt and took off his shoes, he felt the tension drain from his neck and shoulders. The time had come to bring in his latest shipment. The Russians knew better than to interfere. He’d secured a deal that would remind all other families that he was indeed his father’s son, and give him enough capital to wash his hands of blood. Move Battaglia away from the stigma of Baldementi. That was his father’s dream. He sat on the edge of the bed and put his face in his palms.

At times the loneliness became as heavy a burden as managing the lives of men sworn in blood to follow him. He tired of the long nights spent alone and grew bored and disinterested with the women that shared his bed. There was no peace for him.

A soft rapping at the door drew his face up from his palms.

Who would dare defy his orders and disturb him now?Rising with his shirt open and in bare feet he strode to the door and flung it open. Mira emerged from the dark hall into view, successfully disarming him with a shy smile. She wore no makeup. It shocked him how much prettier she was without it. Blown straight, her dark brown hair with honey colored highlights faintly seen within, flowed from a center part to her shoulders and framed her oval shaped face. Her eyes were a soft hazel under a ring of dark lashes, and her skin flawless, creamy like melted caramel. Giovanni’s gaze lowered. A silk belt tied neatly defined her tiny waist and gave her breasts a full lift to the deep V at the front of her robe. She rose on her small feet with her hands behind her back to look up into his eyes when she spoke. “Hi Giovanni.”

“Hi.”

“Can I come in?”

Giovanni didn’t speak. He was too busy staring at the sweet indention of her exposed cleavage.

“I know it’s late, but I wanted, oh this is awkward, can I come in to talk?”

As if on autopilot he stepped aside, holding the door for her. The suggestion of nubile curves underneath the short robe she wore was further enhanced by the sweet sway of her hips. No woman on the planet had a better ass than her. He smiled, surprised. Closing the door, he locked it. She would not leave.

She strolled about and stopped in the middle of his room, surveying it as if she hadn’t seen it before. Of course, he hadn’t forgotten her, the day they shared, the night he wished to share between her thighs. He forced himself to accept the fact that a little flirting was all he’d achieve with this one. Especially with all the bullshit he was swimming in.

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