Page 79 of Destino

“Are you okay, Bella?”

“Always, with you always,” she said softly.

“We can take the lunch with us.”

“Where?” she half-moaned with her lids sliding shut as he rubbed the sensation of her quaking orgasm into her pussy.

“I’ve shared my pleasure with you. You asked to see my pain. For that we must take a short drive.”

Her eyes flashed open again. “Mmkay.”

She dressed after using napkins to clean herself. He hadn’t intended to take her toVilla di Lucewhen they embarked on a visit to his family’s winery. Her request to know more about his mother threw him. But now he wanted to share his history. For the first time since his parents’ death, he felt okay with explaining to a stranger why he was who he was.

As she packed their lunch and he folded the wine soaked quilt, he cleared his throat. “What’s your mother’s name?” he asked.

“Melissa, everyone called her Lisa,” she said confused by the turn of the conversation.

“How did your mother die?” Giovanni asked. She froze, her gaze lifting to him from her crouched position. She stood with the basket. “She died from an overdose of heroine.”

Giovanni couldn’t imagine that to be her mother’s fate. Mira shied away from him, busying herself with tidying up the space of their brief picnic. He ached to comfort her, to tell her it was nothing to be ashamed of. But he declined. He hated what drugs did to those he knew and cared about over the years. Men he trusted as brothers who wasted away.

They headed up the cellar stairs through the old barn and out into the fresh air. Her mood seemed to lighten under the noon sun. He dropped his arm around her shoulders and walked at her pace, answering her questions about the land and the products sold there. He loved her curious nature, though it would prove troublesome if she didn’t understand and appreciate the times when he would need to remain silent.

Zia, having seen them through her front windows, came to the door to watch their approach, all of which was pointed out to Mira by Giovanni. His aunt wore a forced smile. According to Giovanni she’d never seen him bring a woman to their vineyard for a visit. His visits were always alone; only Lorenzo knew of his need to come to the vineyard and disappear at times.

In the past Zia had set him up on many ambush dinners with local girls. Other than sex, Giovanni had no time for romance. Her lingering stare on Mira was uncharacteristically critical. However, his Bella was uncharacteristically different. Still Mira was gracious and polite. He couldn’t tell if it mattered to her that others regarded her with suspicion and scorn because she was different than them, just as his mother had suffered the same looks of contempt over her red hair and ice blue eyes.

Zia spoke with her limited English. She invited them both for dinner. Mira looked to him expectantly. Her smile indicated that she’d be willing to stay. He passed on the temptation before he lost his nerve. They would visit his mother’s villa, and he’d face his demons with her.

“No.” Giovanni simply stated and his aunt glared at the lack of respect. To refuse her, was an insult. He had no time to explain his intentions. Mira would be his and only his this evening.

Zia took Mira by the hand and told her she would refresh their basket with food from her oven. Mira appeared enchanted with his aunt’s tiny kitchen. She found a way to communicate as they packed away a fresh basket of thinly sliced meats and cheeses for the wine, along with pasta he knew his aunt hand rolled.

“She’s a beauty.” Rocco said in Italian. “Is she yours?”

Giovanni understood the reference. His uncle had leered at his woman since they arrived. He wanted to know if she was his mistress or plaything. He chuckled. “No uncle, she’s an American friend.”

“You said girlfriend?”

“Si, an Americanraggaza.”

Rocco leaned to the left to get a clear look at Mira in the kitchen. Giovanni shook his head and let it pass. The women returned and Mira allowed Rocco’s farewell embrace, though it lingered too long with polite kisses to her left then right cheek before he brushed his lips over hers. Giovanni put a hand to his shoulder to remind him to show respect. Zia shooed him away and kissed Giovanni goodbye.

“Your uncle felt me up. Twice! And he kissed me on the mouth in front of his wife!”

“I apologize. He’s harmless.”

“Well he’s fresh, really fresh.”

Giovanni chuckled. “I’ll talk to him. It won’t happen again.”

Once outside he walked her over to his motorbike. Mira stopped. Her eyes registered shock, but she didn’t question him. He took her basket and secured it in the back hutch, then put a helmet on her pretty head. He couldn’t wait to feel her pressed against him as he drove out of Chianti.

“So are we dating now Giovanni?”

He slipped her a sly smile and eased on his sunglasses. Giovanni climbed on the bike first and got it started. Mira used his shoulders to climb behind. “My dress, it’ll fly open on this thing.”

“Keep your thighs close to me and sit on your dress.”

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