Читать книгу Latin Lovers: Hot-Blooded Sicilians: Valentino's Love-Child / The Sicilian Doctor's Proposal / Sicilian Millionaire, Bought Bride - Люси Монро, Люси Монро, Catherine Spencer - Страница 11

LESS CERTAIN OF HER ABILITY to withstand Tino’s company unscathed than she had been in the safety of her art classroom, Faith rang the doorbell of the big villa.

The door opened almost immediately, making her heart skip a beat. However, it was only Giosue on the other side.

Relief flooded her, making her smile genuine. “Good evening, Gio.”

“Bueno sera, signora.”

She handed him a small gift.

“What is this?” he asked, his voice tinged with anticipation mixed with confusion.

“It is traditional to give one’s dinner host a gift. I forgot yours when you invited me before, so I’ve brought it tonight along with one for your grandmother.”

“Because this time she invited you?”

“Exactly.”

Gio looked at the present and then up at her, his eyes shining. “Wow. Can I open it now?” She nodded.

He ripped the package apart with the enthusiasm usually reserved for the young and sucked in a breath as he saw what was inside. They were leather gardening gloves made to fit a child’s hands.

“I didn’t know if you already had a pair … “

“I do, but they are made of cloth and not nearly so nice. Come, I want to show Nonno.”

She smiled, glad her gift had gone over so well, and followed Gio to the lanai, Agata’s favorite place to entertain. When they arrived, she saw both Agata and Rocco, but no Tino.

Relieved at what she was sure would be only a temporary respite, Faith watched Gio run to his grandfather to show him the new gloves.

Agata smiled in welcome and hugged Faith, kissing both her cheeks. “It is good to see you.”

“Come, Mama, you speak as if it had been weeks rather than a few days since the last time you saw your friend.” There was an edge to Tino’s voice that Faith could not miss.

She wondered if Agata noticed, but the older woman seemed to be oblivious.

Shaking her head at her son, who had just arrived, she said, “Faith is a dear friend I would see every day if I could. She is good for Gio too.”

“Save your matchmaking attempts for someone susceptible, Mama. I do not believe Faith likes me at all.”

Oh, he was in fine form tonight. Faith refused to rise to the bait and show her chagrin at his words.

“Nonsense. You’re my son, what is not to like?” Agata demanded.

Faith could make a list, but she forebore doing so for Agata’s sake. See? She could handle this. She would handle this.

Her desire to strangle Tino for his leading comment morphed to unwilling concern as she saw how haggard he looked. Oh, he was his usual gorgeous self, but there was a certain cast to his skin and lines around his eyes that were not usually there—all of it bespeaking a bone-deep exhaustion.

“You look tired,” she blurted out.

“Si, this one has been working too many hours. Like a man possessed, he returns to his office after our little Gio goes to sleep and works into the early hours before returning home.”

“I told you, I have some things going on that require extra attention right now.”

Agata frowned. “You say that to your father and maybe he will believe you. Men! But I am your mother and you are behaving much the same as you did after Maura’s death. I do not understand it.”

“There is nothing to understand. I am not grieving, I am working.” He said it with so much force, Faith couldn’t help believing.

Agata did not look so convinced. But then, she was a mother and tended to see the softer side of her child, even if such a side did not exist.

“Is the new venture going well?”

“Yes.” Tino’s voice was clipped and the look he threw his mother was filled with frustration. “Regardless of what my family thinks, I am damn good at my job.”

Rocco had joined them and was shaking his head. “Of course we know you are a success. How could you be anything else? You are my son, no? And I am the greatest vintner in Sicily. Why should you not be a businessman of equal talent? You are a Grisafi.”

Faith was tempted to laugh, but knew Rocco would not take it well. He was serious. Of course. But Faith had no problem seeing where Tino got his arrogance from.

“He is that,” Agata said with asperity. “Which means that in this home, he is my son, not some bigshot businessman. And you are my husband, not the maker of the best wines in the country.”

“Yes, of course.” Rocco did not look the least cowed, but sounded more than willing to be compliant.

Agata shook her head. “Men!”

It was a word she said often over the next few hours, with the same slightly exasperated and amused tone. Faith was gratified that despite the stress of being around Tino, she found the evening highly entertaining and surprisingly comfortable.

So long as she avoided direct contact with her former lover, that is. It wasn’t easy in such a small group.

And Tino wasn’t helping. He had to know she found being around him difficult, but he engaged her in conversation, and she barely avoided sitting beside him at dinner. In that, Gio was her unwitting accomplice.

However, once dinner had been eaten, it was clear that Gio and Agata both intended to see that Faith and Tino spend as much time together as possible.

Right now she was being given a tour of the vineyard, ostensibly by Rocco. Only, the old man and Gio often moved ahead, or lingered behind, leaving her alone with Tino for brief spurts of time.

“You never answered my mother’s question,” Tino said during one of those moments.

“I don’t know what you mean.”

“She asked what there was about me not to like.”

“She’s biased. She’s your mother.”

“Si, but that’s not the point.”

“And what is the point?” “That you never answered her question.” “She didn’t seem bothered by that.” The older woman had not brought it up again. “Perhaps not, but I am.”

“That’s too bad. I’m not here to visit with you, Tino.” “My family will be disappointed. They are matchmaking.” “In vain.”

“Yes, but won’t you tell me why?”

He was insane. He was the one who refused to consider marriage. Ultimately, wasn’t that a far more effective deterrent to his family’s attempts at matchmaking than her supposed dislike of him?

“You’re arrogant.”

“I am a Grisafi.”

“So, it comes with the territory?”

“Definitely.”

She rolled her eyes.

“What else?”

“I never said I didn’t like you, Tino.” And she couldn’t do so now in honesty. He’d hurt her, but she did like him. She loved the callous lout, but yes, she liked him, too. Just not some of his attitudes.

“You said you never wanted to see me again.”

“I said our affair was over.”

“And yet here you are.”

“Visiting your family, Tino. Not you!”

“You could have arranged to come a different night.”

“Why should I?”

He laughed, the sound too sexy for her peace of mind. And highly annoying. “Ah, proving me wrong, Faith? Making sure that I know I don’t matter enough for you to avoid dinner in my home?”

“I told you I wouldn’t give up my friendship with your mother or son.”

“You wanted to see me, or you would not have come tonight.” He brushed her cheek with his hand. “Admit it.”

She jumped back from the gentle touch that felt like a brand. “If I hadn’t come, your parents would have suspected something was wrong between us. I would think you would have realized that and tried to avoid it. You could have made arrangements to be gone tonight without causing suspicion.”

“I had no desire to do so.” He shrugged, looking scarily determined.

“I don’t see why.”

“You have refused to answer my calls for the past week.”

“That should have given you a message.”

“It did. Something is wrong and I want to know what.”

“I told you.”

“You want more or nothing at all.”

“Yes.”

“I cannot give you marriage, Faith.”

“You would be surprised at what you are capable of giving in the right circumstances, Tino.” Why she said it, she didn’t know.

The need to challenge him?

“What circumstances would those be?”

She shook her head, absolutely not going there right now. “Just leave it alone.”

“I cannot.”

“You have to.”

“I know about your lost husband and child. I am sorry.

If I could take that old pain away, I would. But I cannot fill the gap they left in your life. That is not in my power.”

Did he really believe that? And here she’d thought he was smart. “You have your own past tragedies to deal with,” was all she said.

He did not get a chance to answer because they caught up with Gio and Rocco. Faith was given a fascinating description of what happened to the grapes once they were picked. She found it difficult to focus on, however with Tino a brooding presence beside her.

They were once again on their own as Gio and his grandfather had hurried back to the house much too quickly for Faith to keep up in her high-heeled sandals. “How did you find out about Taylish and Kaden?” she asked, posing the question to Tino she could not get out of her mind.

“My mother.”

Stunned, Faith stopped walking altogether. She could not imagine Agata sharing Faith’s confidences without a prompting to do so. Not even in the effort to matchmake. “You asked her?”

“Yes.” Tino stood only a couple of feet away, but the moonlight was not strong enough to illuminate the expression in his eyes.

She could feel its intensity though.

“Wasn’t that dangerous?”

“In what way?”

She rolled her eyes, though she doubted he could see it. “Don’t play dumb. It showed a more-than-passing interest in me.”

Something he’d said he didn’t want his mother to get wind of.

“It was worse than that, even,” he said, sounding rueful, but not particularly bothered. “I allowed it to slip that we had discussed the statue in my bedroom.”

Did he have any idea what he was revealing of his inner thoughts? Tino—Mr. Certainty, the man who never changed his mind and always knew best—was acting as if he did not know his own mind. Acting in direct opposition to his stated purpose. Maybe he had a deeper insight into the long-term effect of his words than she did.

She shook her head. “You’re kidding.”

“Sometimes my curiosity gets the better of me.” He did not shrug, but the negligent movement was there in his voice.

“I guess,” she said with emphasis. “I don’t see your mother making a list of wedding guests as you feared.”

“She is matchmaking, but being surprisingly low-key about it.”

“And that doesn’t bother you?”

“That she is matchmaking?”

“Yes.” What the heck did he think she meant?

“So long as she maintains subtlety and does not make it into a family argument of dramatic proportions, no.”

Maybe she understood his insouciance better now. “In other words, as long as it’s easy for you to avoid the outcome she is looking for.”

“You could put it that way.”

“I just did.”

“Si.”

“Don’t play with me, Tino.” He closed the distance between them but did not touch her. “I am not playing. I want you back.” “As your mistress.” “And my friend.”

“That’s not what you told your mother.” “I explained that.”

“And I found your explanation lacking.” “Faith—”

Lucky for her, because she really didn’t want to get into this right now—or ever really—Giosue came running up. “You two are too slow. Nonna said we could swim if you wanted, signora.”

Faith moved toward Gio, putting distance between herself and his father once again. “Actually, I think it is time I returned home.”

There was that look, the disappointment Faith hated to see, but Gio did not attempt to cajole her. He simply nodded and looked down at the ground.

And it was more effective than any type of whining might have been.

She grabbed his hand and said, “Maybe just a short swim. All right?”

He looked up at her, eyes shining. “Really, signora?”

“Yes.”

“We can play water ball. Zio Calogero sent me a new net.”

Faith had seen the basketball net attached to the side of the pool on a short pole. “That sounds like fun.”

“Yes, it does.” Tino took Gio’s other hand. “Your papa will join you as well. Provided I am invited?”

“Of course, Papa.” Gio’s voice rang with joy.

And why shouldn’t it? This was exactly what her favorite pupil wanted—the three of them together. Faith had wanted it, too, but she couldn’t fight a ghost.

Tension filled her as she contemplated the next thirty minutes. She hadn’t counted on Tino joining them in the pool, but she would have to deal with it. She wasn’t about to renege on her promise to Gio. Though, for the first time in her life she was seriously tempted to back out on a commitment she’d made to a child.

Fifteen minutes later she was desperate enough to do so.

Tino had been teasing her, touching her under the guise of the game. A caress down her arm. A hand cupped over her hip. An arm around her waist, ostensibly to stop her from going under. But the final straw was when he brushed his lips over the sensitive spot behind her ear and whispered that he wanted her.

She shoved herself away from him and climbed out of the pool in the space of a couple seconds.

“Signora, where are you going?”

“It is time for me to leave.” She tried to keep the frustration and anger she felt from her voice. It was not Gio’s fault his father was a fiend.

“But why?” The little boy’s eyes widened with confusion. “We were having fun.”

“Si. I thought we were having a great deal of fun,” Tino said with a purr.

“Really?” she asked—this time making no effort to hide her displeasure. “I’ll leave it to you to explain to your son why I need to leave, then.”

It was Tino’s turn to look confused and he was the mirror image of his son in that moment, only older. Would their child take after him or her? What was she thinking about? This was not the time to consider whether the baby in her womb would resemble its father. Not when she wanted to bean the man.

Without another word, she spun on her heel and stormed to the cabana where she changed back into her clothes. A shower would have to wait until she got home.

She left moments later after hugging Agata and a hastily dried Gio. Rocco had gone to check on something in the wine cellars.

Her goodbye to Tino was perfunctory and verbal only.

Valentino stood outside Faith’s apartment in Pizzolato, uncharacteristically hesitant to knock. The evening before had been an exercise in frustration for him. Every time he got a step closer to Faith, she took two backward. And he did not understand why.

He’d used their time in the pool to remind her of what they were both missing. Valentino was sure it had been working, too. Faith’s breath had shortened, her nipples growing hard under her one-piece swimsuit. Heaven above knew he’d been hard enough to drill through cement. But then she had pushed away from him with the clear intent to reject and climbed from the pool, saying she had to go. She didn’t back down, either, not even when Gio looked heartbroken.

She’d left him there to explain her precipitous departure to his upset son.

What the hell was going on with her?

It was not like her to be so unfeeling. But the look she’d given him could have stripped paint.

It had been weeks since they made love in his family home, but it was not merely her body he craved. He missed her. Like an ache in his gut that no medication could take away. Which was why he was here right now, ready to make it right.

Whatever it was.

He gave the closed door a glare. What was he? A wimp? He did not think so. Not Valentino Grisafi.

He knocked on the door. Loudly.

His mother had told him that Faith got caught up in her work and didn’t hear the door lots of times. That she worked whenever the mood struck her, the hour of the day not a deterrent no matter how late or early. She’d said a lot more about Faith.

Add this knowledge to everything she’d told him previously about TK, and Valentino had a completely new picture of his lover, an image that convicted him about how little he’d known before. Not that it should have mattered, but with Faith it did. Their relationship would be a year old in two more weeks, and he didn’t want to spend the anniversary of their first date grieving her loss.

Taking a deep breath, he knocked again.

“Coming,” came from inside.

A few seconds later the door swung open. “Agata, I wasn’t expect—”

“My mother is at a fundraising meeting for Giosue’s school, I believe.”

Faith looked at him with something like resignation and sighed. “Yes. That’s what I thought she was doing.”

“Are you going to invite me in?”

“Will you go away if I don’t?”

“No.”

“Why do you want to come in? You’ve never stepped foot in my building, much less my apartment. I didn’t think you even knew where I lived.”

He hadn’t. He’d had to ask his mother, but Faith didn’t need to know that. “I want to see where you work.”

She grimaced, but stepped back. He followed her into the apartment. It wasn’t huge, but it wasn’t small, either. She’d converted the main living area, which opened to a glassed-in balcony, into her studio. The half-glass ceiling bathed the room in the glow of natural light, and he could easily see why she’d picked this location to work.

Although the area was clearly a working studio, she had created a conversation area in one corner with a love seat and two chairs around a low table decorated with traditional Sicilian tiles.

He settled into one of the chairs after declining a drink. “Is my mother the only person who visits you here?”

“No, a couple of the teachers from the school have been by, as well, but since the school day is not yet over …” She let her explanation trail off.

“What about other artists?” He was trying to get a picture of her life, but it was still pretty fuzzy and that bothered him.

She gave a half shrug. “I’m a private person.”

“You always came off as friendly and outgoing to me.”

She wiped at a spot of clay on her hand with the rag she held as she took the seat farthest from his. “Yes, well, maybe I should say that TK is a private person. I have some friends in the artistic community, but none of them live close enough to drop in during the middle of the day.”

He considered this and what she had said about other teachers coming over sometimes, which he read to mean rarely. “You’re a very solitary person, aren’t you?”

She shook her head, not in negation, but as if she couldn’t think what to say. “Why are you here, Tino?”

After last night she could ask that?

“I miss you.” There. The bald-faced truth.

“I don’t see why you should.” She stiffened, drawing herself up into a ramrod sitting posture. “You still have your hand.”

Shock struck him like a bolt of lightning, making it hard to breathe for just a second. “That is crude, and implies our relationship is nothing but mechanical sex.”

“We no longer have a relationship.”

He did not accept that, but to say so would violate their initial agreement. He decided to change the subject instead.

“Are those the pieces my mother is salivating to see?” he asked, referring to several cloth-covered shapes around the room.

“Yes. I told her she could see them when they are finished.”

Sharp curiosity filled him. “She likes to see your work in progress.” He wanted to see Faith’s work. “Not this time.”

“Why not?”

“I don’t want her to see them before they are cast and glazed.”

“You are using the clay as models?”

“For some. There will be a numbered series cast before I break the mold for several, but some will be fired as is and be one-of-a-kind pieces.”

“I know very little about your process.” Even less than he knew about her.

“True.” She didn’t look inclined to elaborate.

But didn’t most people enjoy rhapsodizing about their passions? From the way her work took over her home, he assumed her art was Faith’s biggest passion. “Perhaps you would care to change that now?”

“I don’t think so.”

Her negative response stunned him. Though why it should, in the face of the way she’d been behaving, he didn’t know. He kept expecting her to go back to acting the way she had until a few short weeks ago. “You don’t feel like talking about your work?”

“I don’t feel like talking to you.”

“Don’t be like that, carina.” He didn’t want to examine the way that made him feel, but it was not good. “We are friends.”

“That’s not what you told your mother.”

Must she keep harping on that one moment in time, an answer to his mother’s questioning he was past regretting and into mentally banging his head against a wall? “I was protecting myself, I admit it. But I was trying to protect us too, Faith. What would you have had me tell her?”

“The truth?”

“That we are lovers?” He did not think so.

She glared, her eyes snapping with anger and something akin to disgust. “That wouldn’t be true, though, would it?”

“We are lovers, perhaps on hiatus, but still together.”

“You are delusional. We are not and never were lovers.”

“Now who is being delusional?”

She stood up, her hands fisted at her sides. “You have to give more than sex to be considered someone’s lover. We were sex partners. Now we are past acquaintances.”

“That is not true. We have more than sex between us.” After all, that “more” had cost him the sleep of several nights.

“Oh, really?”

“Yes, our friendship.”

“Again, let me refer you to that afternoon by the pool at your family home. You told your mother we were not friends.”

“I made a mistake.” There, he had said it. “I am sorry,” he gritted.

“That was really hard for you, wasn’t it?” He just looked at her.

“Admitting you were wrong isn’t your thing.” “It doesn’t happen very often.” “Being wrong or admitting it?” she asked with dark amusement.

“Both.”

“I don’t suppose it does.”

He too stood, taking her by the arms and standing close. “Let me back in, Faith. I need you.” Those last three words were said even less frequently than an apology by him.

Tears filled her eyes. “I can’t, Tino.”

“Why not?”

She just shook her head.

“Tell me what is wrong. Let me make it right.” He felt like he was drowning, but that wasn’t right. He did not want this thing between them to end, but if it did, it shouldn’t be this wrenching.

“You can’t make it right.”

“I can try.”

“Can you love me? Can you make me your wife?” Something inside him shattered. “No.” “Then you can’t fix it.”