Destino (27 page)

“You know.” Again she removed his hand and this time she crossed her leg. Giovanni chuckled. He dropped his arm around her and pulled her in closer.

“No Bella. I don’t. When are you most curious?” he asked. “When I conduct business around you? When I’m angry?”

Mira hit his chest playfully. “No silly. When we’re intimate. It’s like you’re having a conversation with yourself.”

“Not true!” Giovanni chuckled.

“It is. I don’t understand anything you’re saying. I think you forget you’re speaking Italian.”

“It’s not something I do consciously, Bella. Let’s just say you inspire me.”

Mira snuggled closer. “I’d like to be a part of the conversation, so maybe you can let me in on what those whispers are about?”

“I’ll make sure to translate for you.”

“On second thought, let’s not kill the mood. We can talk about the translation afterwards.”

Giovanni laughed again. He lifted her chin and gave her a sweet kiss. “I plan to show you a different side of Italia.”

“I can’t wait.”

“Sorrento is my sanctuary, my heaven. It’s not all I want to share. Tomorrow we will visit my vineyard.”

“You have one?”

“In a village called San Donato which is in the Chianti region.”

“Where they actually make Chianti?”

“Yes. The best vino in Chianti.”

“Sounds nice. Fabiana would love to see it.”

“We will do the tour alone.” Giovanni said.

Mira glanced up at him. She could insist but what would be the point? Fabiana shared with her that she and Lorenzo were serious. She seemed excited about time with him on their last days of vacation. “I guess it doesn’t matter. Lorenzo probably has plans for her. I love that girl with all my heart, but she is so willing to just go with her feelings in everything. It amazes and worries me.”

The car slowed to a stop before tall gates. Men stepped out in front of the headlights. One spoke to the other, and they stepped aside. The car rolled along. “So this is it?” she leaned forward trying to see the details of the estate looming before them in the dark. She could tell it was huge. Block shaped with tall walls, it reminded her of a castle.

“My great-great grandfather and his brothers restored this place. Over two centuries we’ve added and improved upon it. This is home.”

Giovanni was out the door waiting to help her step. The evening felt unnaturally cool, so to have him draw her close felt nice. The cloudy sky shielded the moon, but still the night wasn’t as dark as she would think it to be. The massive walls of the castle-like estate surrounded them from all sides.

Soft laughter from her friend echoed in the night. Men were emerging from cars. She couldn’t count how many. It felt like more than a small army. One of his men hurried ahead of them. He opened and held the door. Mira walked at Giovanni’s side. She crossed the threshold into the warmed over golden interior of his home. She imagined the place had so much history ghosts floated along the halls. She turned to share her joke then froze.

A stunningly attractive brunette in dangerously high spiked heels strutted straight for them.
It was her.
The young woman she saw him with at the fashion show. She was even more beautiful up close. Thanks to the elevation of her shoes she stood closer to five feet seven. She wore tight black pants and a red halter-top, which smoothly defined her slim waistline. Her hair was waist length with thick spiral curls framing her delicate features. Never had she seen a woman so striking. With skin a dark olive tan and expressive dark brown eyes under long lashes, she exuded femininity.

Was he kidding? Was this his woman?
Intense anger swelled in her chest. She glanced over to Giovanni who looked like a man in love. The young woman rushed him, nearly jumping into his arms. She spoke so fast in Italian Mira had no hope of understanding her. Giovanni held her to him with one arm and kissed her brow and cheek affectionately. He released the brunette but cupped her face speaking in a low voice to her. Everyone waited as he rubbed his nose over the young woman’s like a father would his daughter.

Fabiana shot Mira a puzzled look. The brunette turned and her grin dimmed as shock registered on her face. “It’s you!” she pointed a finger at Mira. “I love you! I buy you. I mean I buy your clothes. Giovanni brought you here for me!” Without warning Mira was seized. The woman hugged her neck chokingly tight. “You will design my wedding dress! Oh thank you Lorenzo! Giovanni! Thank you so much! Mira Ellison will design my wedding dress!” she squealed.

“Mira, I want you to meet my sister Catalina.” Giovanni made the introduction.

Sister? He has a sister? Now he tells me?

“It is so nice to meet you.” Mira smiled graciously.

Catalina yanked her by both hands. “Giovanni purchased tickets to your show in Milan. He let me pre-order from your Fall line. I want the dress Zenobia wore. I will wear it at my reception. I love it!”

“Grazie,” Mira said overwhelmed by her energy.

Giovanni rubbed his sister’s back as if to calm her hyperactivity. “This is Fabiana.”

Catalina extended her hand. “Ciao, nice to meet you,” she said. It was hard to miss how both Giovanni and Lorenzo looked at Catalina with love. She was a princess among these men, and Mira imagined she was equally as spoiled.

“So you’ll definitely be staying here with us at
la Melanzana
?” Catalina spun to her brother. “I can call Zia to come sooner! We can start working on the dress immediately. Can we have the lower level to ourselves?”

“Catalina. Quiet now.” Giovanni touched his sister’s cheek. “Mira did not come for you. She’s not here to design some dress.”

Confused, Catalina frowned at them both. “What are you saying?”

“She’s my guest. She’s here with me.”

“You? In our home?”

Giovanni’s brow arched. Catalina looked over at Mira and the light of admiration dimmed in her eyes. She could feel the frost in her glare.

“Oh. I see. Welcome.”

His hand extended to Mira. “It’s late, come with me.”

Awkward as it was, she accepted. She could feel Catalina’s eyes on her.

“Wait. Giovanni you just got home! I want to talk to you. Domi said you would discuss the wedding!” Catalina shouted after him. She hurried to the bottom of the steps. Mira glanced back and noticed the raw look of anger on her face.

“In the morning.” He continued up the stairs. The villa of the Battaglia’s was so grand her mind could barely catalogue much of what she’d seen before they entered the hall that led to his bedroom. She observed the family crest for Battaglia carved into the wall along the stairs and walked silently at his side toward two tall mahogany wood doors that were drawn shut. His hand fell from hers. When he opened the doors to a room the size of her first apartment, her breath caught in her throat. The bed of course was covered in dark chocolate bedding with soft golden colored sheets folded over it, and throw pillows in a deep magenta were mixed in. A large Persian rug lay in front of it. Giovanni walked to the left and opened doors that led to a private balcony with a long awning over it.

“My tour? It ends here?”

“Forgive me, Bella. I’ll give you a proper tour tomorrow, I just wanted to be alone with you again.”

“I see, and why is that?” she asked following him out onto the balcony. The sun was setting behind a mountain to the distance, and the sky had dark purple and orange streaks as the night ushered in.

“I’m not sure. You calm me,” he said. “Not many women do.”

“You seem close to your sister.”

Giovanni’s gaze slipped over to her. “She’s my light. I adore her. But she isn’t my woman. Surely you know the difference?”

Mira felt silly for even making the comparison. She avoided the intense way he stared at her and focused on the shadowy mountain in the distance. “I guess while I visit you here we will share a room.”

“It’s my preference.” He stated.

“And if I preferred a different arrangement?”

“Do you?”

She exhaled. “No.”

Giovanni chose to step behind her. She eased forward pressing into the balcony that edge. Below her the land stretched and disappeared into tall trees. How high up were they? He dropped his hands on either side of her and pressed into her backside. When he spoke he did so in her left ear.

“Can I share something with you?”

“Yes.”

“I’ve never had a woman in this room let alone my bed before tonight.”

Mira tried to turn but couldn’t. She strained to look to her left and read his face to see if he spoke the truth. “Are you serious? Please don’t think you have to say that to me.”

He stared out into the night across the hills and stretch of land she supposed belonged to him. “It’s the truth. I’ve had women, many women. This is my family home, and this room is really sacred to me. My mother and father made me in the bed we will share. I’ve raised Catalina behind these walls alone since my parents’ death. I’m showing you who I am and sharing myself with you.”

“I’m flattered. A bit overwhelmed. We barely know each other and I have this honor?”

“Time? You keep referencing time.” Giovanni shook his head in disappointment. “I wait on nothing and march to no one’s calendar. I have to make decisions daily, and I do so based on how I feel, what I feel.” He eased her bangs from her brow to look into her eyes. “Have I not shown you what I feel?”

“Yes.” She said. She felt breathless. If the man didn’t stop, she’d barricade the doors and keep him with her always. Things were too intense, and too soon. But how could she explain it? She chose to change the subject. “How did your mother die?” she asked. The answering silence drew longer than expected.

There was a knock to the door. He kissed her cheek and then released her before walking back into the room. Mira peeked inside to see Catalina standing in the doorway, arms crossed, and an angry frown to her face. Giovanni stepped out the door and closed it.

She returned to the balcony and leaned on her elbows, allowing the night air to gently cool her. Fabiana. She needed to talk to her friend. Things were happening for them at warp speed.

“What is it?” Giovanni asked.

“Why is she here?” Catalina demanded. “In our home Giovanni? Are you… you two aren’t dating each other are you?”

He grabbed her by the arm and dragged her down the hall away from his bedroom doors. He threw open the door to his cigar room and forced her inside.
“Fatti cazzi tuoi!”
He kicked the chair in front of him.

Catalina stepped back. “Don’t curse me! This
is
my business, you are my brother and I have a right to be concerned.”

Giovanni leveled a finger at her. “I tolerate a lot Catalina, but not disrespect. She’s a guest, and you will treat her as such. Do you understand? Do you? Say the fucking words!”

“Yes! I understand.” Catalina huffed. “Do you know who she is? She’s famous. Her face is in every fashion magazine. She wouldn’t date you. She wouldn’t even spend time with you if she knew who you were and what you do.” Catalina sighed. “You taught me to be careful of people outside of our life. Well she’s American. Black American. She’s from a different world and she doesn’t belong here in ours. In our family home.”

The accusation would make sense if it weren’t Mira that Catalina spoke of. He never exposed her or their family to outsiders. To bring her into his home was a huge deal. But it felt right.

“
Cara
, sweetheart,” he cupped her face and pressed a kiss to her forehead. “She’s a friend and harmless. She also designs all those expensive rags you make me buy.” Catalina blushed, and he let her go. Understanding her jealousy he decided to use a gentle touch. She never saw him with a woman in their home, and those that dared to get close enough to even meet her were always second to her whims. Even Lorenzo and Dominic were surprised when he announced he’d bring the designer here. But he wouldn’t explain himself further. He stroked the side of Catalina’s cheek. “Respect Catalina. I’ve taught you better. You will make her feel welcome.”

Catalina nodded.

“Good. Have our dinner sent to my room. She will be staying there during this visit.”

“In Mama and Papa’s room!” Catalina gasped.

“It is my room now.” He said firmly. He turned to walk out but stopped himself. He glanced back to see Catalina with a sad pout. He sighed. “In the morning we will sit down and discuss the wedding. I will listen to your concerns.”

The joy sparked in her blue eyes once more. “Yes! And since she’s here, can you ask her about my dress? Maybe she wants to design a better one for me?”

“I’ve bought you three dresses so far.” He frowned.

“None of them are close to a Mira Ellison original. None of them.”

Giovanni shook his head and left. He returned to his room to find the luggage had been brought up. Mira unpacked her suitcase. She glanced up when he returned.

“Little sister didn’t expect me?”

“She’s spoiled.”

Mira smiled. “Wonder who spoiled her?”