Destino (13 page)

“No. No. That’s silly. Do you think they will do us harm?”

Fabiana sighed. “No of course not. But I sure as hell don’t think we know enough about them to stay here.”

“Well, we are here.” Mira shook her head. “And we accepted their help. Look. I spoke with Giovanni. We’ll have breakfast and do some sightseeing. That’s all. I don’t want to antagonize them. And be honest, you aren’t done with Lorenzo. Are you?”

“You don’t have to stay here for me. I like Lorenzo, but you and Giovanni are not part of that.”

“I know this. Fabiana stop. It’s okay. Let’s go.” Mira turned and walked back out to the men. She could hear Fabiana on her heels.

“Shall we?” Giovanni extended his arm. Mira exchanged a look with her friend. For a minute he thought she’d further humiliate him by not responding. But she graciously walked over and hooked her arm in his. He walked them out, a bit more encouraged by her willingness to comply. Four armed men climbed inside cars and she was led to his Ferrari. The doors were raised and she eased inside covering her thighs with her skirt like a lady.

“Nice car,” she said when he climbed in and the doors lowered.

“Would you like it drive it?”

“No thanks. These roads are kind of narrow and scary.”

“Hold on.”

The car spit a cloud of dust and gravel as he wheeled it around and zoomed toward the open gates. Mira’s heart lodged in her throat. “Could you slow down please?”

He nodded and eased them into a manageable speed. “We’ll dine at
Villa Melzi
. I’ve had it arranged. I believe your friend and Lorenzo will take the yacht out.”

“Wait? We’re splitting up?”

“Is that a problem?” he asked.

She chewed on the inside of her jaw. “I suppose not.”

“I was hoping to take you on a tour of the eastern hamlets, especially after seeing your sketch this morning. It’s what you see from your window.”

“Oh. Okay.” She tried to force the nervous quiver from her voice. She needed to be confident. The man made her anxiety spike. Again she wondered about his interest in her. It couldn’t possibly be her lease. And she did see him with a drop dead beautiful Italian girl, so he couldn’t be lonely.
Stop it Mira. It’s just breakfast and a tour not a proposal.
She closed her eyes and forced herself to relax.

“Do you design men's clothes?” he asked.

“I do.”

“Maybe you can design something for me?”

“I’m expensive.”

Giovanni chuckled. “A lady of your talents should be.”

Mira blushed and looked away, back out the window. They glided along until they entered the city. The cobblestone roadway made him more careful of his speed. From her peripheral view, she could see him shifting gears. Looking down at his strong powerful hand, she noticed the ring with the B on it, and she wondered about him.

“Is that a family heirloom?” she asked pointing to the ring.

He looked to his hand then at her. “It belonged to my father.”

“It’s beautiful, you two close?”

“I loved him very much,” he answered.

His car phone began to chime, and she saw his hand leave the gearshift and him navigate the car with one hand while he picked it up with the other. She wondered more about his life and the kind of man he was. Deciding before she went any further with him that she would ask. He spoke in Italian, and Mira stared at his profile. When his gaze slipped to her instead of the road, she glanced away. She didn’t need an interpreter to know that the call wasn’t good news. Hanging up the phone, he down shifted.

“Is everything okay?”

“It will be,” he said, and a hint of a smile tugged the corner of his mouth. She smiled back and relaxed in the soft leather of the bucket seat that seemed to be molded to her body perfectly. The day had promise.

Mira admired the leafy groves of cypress until palms disappeared behind the looming architecture of the city. Every block shaped building in an array of colors from rose pink to mango stood at least four-stories tall with flat rust shingled roofs. Tourists and locals mixed along the sidewalks or zipped by on motor scooters. To her right, Lake Como glistened with still waters. She could see a few yachts with open sails resting lazily upon the deep blue under the morning sun. A ferry blew its horn as it approached the pier to unload anxious travelers. The car coasted into a reduced speed.

“You arranged breakfast for us here?” she asked, the question nearly stalled in her throat and nervous energy swelled into a tight ball in the center of her tummy. Of course, she didn’t want to sound undeserving. However, the small lakefront town of Bellagio nestled between volcanic shaped mountains, two distinct lakes, and covered in bright colorful flowers, evoked such romance it was hard not to notice. Had he seriously gone this far to get her alone in a setting such as this? They really didn’t know each other, and she hadn’t been gracious about his advances so far.

“I wanted to be alone with you.” The words slipped from his mouth in a husky voice that caused her to glance over, intrigued. Mira stifled a smile over the intense way he focused on the road. Did he always take himself so seriously?

“It’s a beautiful day, isn’t it?”

He didn’t respond.

“Why do they call Bellagio the Pearl of the Lake?”

“Not sure. The temperature here is always nice,” he began. They drove slowly along the stone roads. She peered out at the little quaint shops. “The island town is a peninsula. It sits in the heart of the Lario.”

Intrigued, she glanced back. It was then she noticed the cars behind her. She was certain they were the same ones from Lorenzo’s villa. Mira parted her lips to say so when her gaze fell upon his profile once more. He had such strikingly handsome features. His hair was dark as coal and thick. It reached just behind his nape and smoothed back from his face. His brows were silkily black and his strong jawline fit his cool serious demeanor. A man of his height with such broad shoulders and chest should have appeared stuffed in the expensive sports car. Instead his reclined posture looked relaxed. He covered his eyes with dark shades, the lenses reflective. But from the profile she could see his gaze slip over to her. She returned her focus to the road to avoid the awkwardness over being caught once again staring.

“I’m sure whatever you’ve planned will be nice, but I do want to see the city a bit. Before we go back to the villa, that is.”

When he didn’t respond, she admired the scenery outside of the passenger window. His sleek sports car parked a distance from the stone white villa, he turned to her, removing his sunglasses and tucking them in his front shirt pocket. The Ferrari doors lifted. His steady gaze bore into her with silent expectation, and she felt compelled to look at him directly. “We’ll have to walk the rest of the way,” he said. “I’ve requested a private tour of the villa. This too isn’t allowed. I did it for you, Bella.”

There was a tingling in the pit of her stomach. Her mouth went dry, and she swallowed trying to remain unaffected by his nearness. “For me? You sure about that?”

“Meaning?” A sly smile eased across his lips causing a dimple to rise in his left cheek. The man sure was confident. He stared directly at her as if he were to be rewarded. So she gave him a polite smile and single shoulder shrug. “I think you have your own private motives.”

“You do inspire me. Yes, I have my motives. Does that make you uncomfortable?”

Mira laughed. “Thanks for being so honest. I guess not.”

“Good.”

Once out of the car, he strode around to her side to offer assistance. She accepted his hand and stepped into damp grass. The four-inch spiked heel to her strappy sandal sank deep in the moist earth. “Oh crap!”

“Something wrong?” His gaze dropped to her feet.

“I wore the wrong shoes obviously.” She lifted a foot and felt the other sink deeper. Before her hand slipped from his, a strong arm circled her waist. In a flash she was lifted, weightless. “Giovanni!” she gasped.

Effortlessly, he carried her around to the front of the car and placed her gingerly on her feet onto the stone pavement. “Better?”

She chuckled fixing her dress that gathered higher up her waist making the hem reveal too much of her thighs. “Yes. I guess so.”

Mira discreetly stomped her feet and dropped clumps of dirt from her heels. The wind blew her hair forward. She was glad she chose to wear a headband to keep her thick locks from her face. The connection she felt with him returned when his gaze lifted and latched to hers.

“I’m fine. Really.”

To prove her point she sashayed away. His long strides had him walking at her side in a flash. She glanced back and noticed they had a shadow.

“Is that man following us?”

“He and others.” Giovanni answered, not bothering to look behind him.

It was then that she noticed two other men. One across the street and another a few paces ahead of them. They were covered on all sides. Mira held back from questioning him. Together they walked along the path and passed a very distinctive hostel. His stroll was slow and easy. The view of the lake and the gentle serenity of the city had her head swimming with ideas. Maybe her fall line could have some photos with Zenobia shot here in Bellagio. The scene was perfect. She’d have to remember to run it past Fabiana.

“Have I told you how beautiful you are today?” Giovanni asked when he gently placed his hand on her lower back to steer her toward the open entrance of the gardens.

“Oh stop.” She rolled her eyes. His smile dimmed.
Had she insulted him?
He was trying so hard to impress her, and she wished he wouldn’t. Maybe she could glean just what type of man he really was if he said something more genuine. After they continued their stroll in silence for a while, she eased her hand into his, and it was a perfect fit. “How old is this place?”

The villa could be seen just beyond the trees erected between the foot of green sloping hills and the lake. Whoever designed it had a real appreciation for where the beauty of Bellagio could be best seen. Mira cast her gaze out toward the lake and again felt a warm breeze soothe her.

“This was
built in 1808 for Duke Francesco
Melzi d'Eril
as a summer home.”

“How do you know the date?” she asked. “You sound like a tour guide when you say it that way.”

“School. The Duke was assistant general to Napoleon and Vice President to the royal Italian Republic. Every school boy knows about the
Melzi d'Eril
.”

“Oh.”

“The gardens are open to the public, but the villa often isn’t.” Exotic trees with long leafy branches trimmed into an umbrella arch shaded the walk along the slender road. Mira noticed their destination would end at a bleached white paved terrace before the villa. The landscape was bright and colorful with exotic blooms. She kept glancing over trying to think of how to continue a conversation with him, but when he looked her way she lost her nerve. It wasn’t just her. She noticed how he fumbled over his words or kept his jaw tight and his posture tense during their frequent uncomfortable pauses. Neither trusted the other to be themselves. That made her sad. It was such a romantic place.

“Do I make you uncomfortable?” Mira asked.

Giovanni chuckled.

“Is something funny?”

His stare was bold, and he assessed her frankly. “It’s been quite a while since I’ve felt less confident.”

“Why? Because we’re different?”

“Maybe, or maybe it’s just because you don’t
know
me.”

As strange as she found his statement, something within the message remained clear. The man was the biggest mystery to her and that was by design. She doubted few people knew who Giovanni Battaglia really was.

“Those are gorgeous.” She pointed to the wild blooms of red, lilac, and pink flowers. ”What are they?”

“
Rhododendrons and a few azaleas
. They aren’t my favorite. I will introduce you to my favorite flower.”

A man, tall and pale with a flat unreadable expression, waited for them at the center of the lower level steps. A divided picturesque stairway circled him and ended at the doors of the villa. On either side, four austere, large lions carved of stone stood guard. Mira’s mind conjured images of the days of Napoleon’s men bounding up the steps with their swords holstered in their royal uniforms. An elderly couple stopped to gawk along a trail to the east. She’d gotten a few stares once she ventured out of Naples. At first in Milan they were because of her celebrity, but here she knew the stares were quite different. She figured not many people of color vacationed in Bellagio. There was a distinct feeling of privilege that went through her. She wasn’t sure if she liked it.

The
overly tanned gentleman dressed in a dark navy blue suit stepped forward to greet them. His gaze volleyed from her face to Giovanni’s before their eyes could connect. He greeted Giovanni with a kiss to both of his cheeks. Strange. Men greeted each other in Italy this way often. At home, she’d never seen it done so freely.