“I wanted to come get you. We’re making dinner up at the house.” She used the tip of a finger to wipe the edge of her lip.
“Oh, it looked like you came to offer me lipstick.” He eyed the cosmetic tube in her hand.
She capped the tube and slipped it between her breasts into her bra. “No, but you can have a taste of mine if you like.” She licked her lips and puckered them.
“You have a very safe storage place for your cosmetics.” He laughed and made no move to accept her offered kiss.
She eyed his washboard abs. “You must do a lot of sit ups, Markus.”
Auguste approach the outbuildings toting a bucket of cleaned fish, and Vincenzo fell into step with him. As they got to the stable house, Auguste said, “Hey you two, dinner isn’t going to make itself, and I’m hungry. Come on up to the kitchen and let’s get this party started.”
Markus answered, “I will be up after I put my shirt and shoes on,” and disappeared inside.
Carolette joined them in the walk to the château, chatting away as she always did. But Vincenzo’s mind was on what Giselle had been doing in the stable house with Markus. She was probably talking to him about the sculpture; after all it was her favorite subject.
Soon everyone was in the kitchen having a good time, and Giselle seemed to be her normal self, enjoying her friends. They all got busy making salads and dips, and his mother was in her glory working the grill on the patio just beyond the back door. Juliette had every early-fall vegetable imaginable on skewers and was brushing marinade on them, the roasted smoke acting as the ultimate appetizer. Fabrice stepped beside Juliette to place the fish on the grill, and Laetitia helpfully squeezed lemons and sprinkled salt over them.
Fauve stood next to Vincenzo, making neat little disks of goat cheese. He took each disk and rolled it in a bowl of chopped hazelnuts before setting them on a tray of salad toppings. He kept an eye on Markus, who was working with Carolette scraping cooked eggplants from their blackened skins. She was in full flirt mode trying to seduce him.
Giselle turned from the stove and announced, “I’ve got the onions sautéed. Who needs onion?”
“Over here for the baba ghanoush,” Carolette answered.
Giselle picked up her sauté pan and carried it over to the baba ghanoush, while Carolette headed to the compost bin with her eggplant skins. As Giselle spooned her onions into the bowl, Markus stirred them into the eggplant.
“Careful, this is hot,” Giselle cautioned. The way she said it made Vincenzo’s ears perk up.
“I am not afraid of hot,” Markus answered in a husky tone.
Vincenzo watched his wife blush and stare into her pan as if the onions had become fascinating.
“Eh, Gigi, are you feeling all right?” Carolette had returned to her spot and was looking at her with concern. “If it’s too hot in here for you, I’ll work at the stove. You step outside.”
“What?” Giselle almost bumped Carolette with the pan. “Why?”
“Your face is beet red.”
Giselle’s gaze skittered over to Vincenzo, and they locked eyes for a moment before she dropped her stare back into her pan.
Wanting to break the tension he said, “Be careful not to over-salt that dip, Carolette. Remember last time?”
“Let him taste some before I add anything.”
Giselle set her pan aside, scooped a bit of the dip with her spoon and brought it over to Vincenzo. Carolette waited with her seasonings while he tasted it. He nodded, then bending next to Giselle’s ear he whispered, “Remember when that waiter got hit with the flying onion tart in Monaco?” She began to laugh at their inside joke, and Vincenzo licked the spoon, then handed it back to her. “Your onions are soo-pair.” She broke into giggles as he continued, “But which one of us is the baba ghanoush boss? You or me?”
He pretended he was about to wrestle her and she cried out amidst her giggles, “Okay, okay, you’re the boss of the baba ghanoush!” As he took her into his arms and dipped her deeply, he could feel her relax. Swinging her back to her feet, he glanced up and saw a dark expression on Markus’ face that startled him. It was only there for an instant before he turned away, shoulders tense. Vincenzo released Giselle and walked over to Markus.
“What’s the matter? Are you all right?”
“Oui.” Markus replied calmly, but his nostrils flared minutely.
“You look…upset.”
“No.” He shook his head.
Vincenzo was inclined to push the issue, but just then his mother called out happily, “Everybody, abbondanza!” Juliette and Selma moved through the kitchen bearing trays piled high with antipasti, followed closely by the fish-bearing trio of Auguste, Fabrice, and Laetitia. Vincenzo noticed that Markus avoided him for the rest of the evening, but he didn’t want to make a big deal out of something as tenuous as a look or a mood.
The next morning the whole property was busy. Maids arrived, the friends said their goodbyes, and Vincenzo and Petro drove his mother and Ippy to the airstrip for their return to Venice. Returning to the château, he drove around back and parked his car in the garage. He stopped briefly to greet the groom, who was packing up the horses, and then proceeded to the back door of the kitchen. He paused when he saw Markus sitting at the breakfast bar with his back to him. Giselle went over to pour him coffee, and then sat next to him.
“Now that everyone is clearing out, we can get back to work.” She sounded relieved.
“When does Vincenzo leave?” Markus reached for her hand.
“I leave this afternoon,” he called from the door, and he saw Giselle pull her hand away abruptly.
Markus turned around startled. “Oh, I did not see you there.” Abandoning his cup, he got up from his seat. He looked toward Giselle, but she didn’t meet his eyes. She pretended to be engrossed in the task of adding sugar to her coffee. “I will be ready when you are, Giselle.” With that he walked out of the kitchen.
Vincenzo sat down across from her. “What’s up with him?”
She shrugged.
“What’s going on, Gigi?”
“What do you mean?” She took a sip of her coffee and then went back to stirring it.
“You haven’t been yourself, and Markus seems very tense.”
“I don’t know. I can’t say about him, but I’m dying to get back to work.”
“Nothing else you want to tell me?”
She shrugged again. “No.”
“He just tried to hold your hand.”
“Oh, that was nothing.” She sounded calm, but looked pained, and almost scared.
He pressed his lips together but didn’t push her. The effect she had on men wasn’t her fault. It was always the same story with men desiring her and her nonchalant attitude in return. She wandered off, and he headed up to his room to pack.
He made up his mind; leaving Giselle alone here with Markus was a bad idea. His instincts told him she wasn’t safe with this Ukrainian stranger. He carried his briefcase and bag to the car before heading to the stable house. He let himself in and heard the shower in the bathroom turn off. Moments later Markus appeared from behind the multi-colored wall, towel in hand. He was naked and didn’t appear surprised to see Vincenzo.
He looked at the artist’s rippling musculature and felt envious. “Go ahead and get dressed. Don’t let me interrupt you. I don’t feel it’s a good idea for you to be here alone with my wife. I want you to leave with me. I can drop you at the train station.”
“Excuse me?”
“You heard me. I don’t like the way you look at her, and I’m asking you nicely to leave here before something regrettable happens.”
Markus scrubbed the towel over his body and then draped it over the bedpost. “That does not sound like a request. It sounds like a threat.”
Vincenzo was no snob, but he’d never had anyone act aggressively toward him or his loved ones. He took a step forward. “You can take it as a threat.”
“Then I want it to be clear. Are you threa
tening me or her?”
“My wife is very innocent. I don’t know what you think you’re doing with her, but I can spot manipulation when I see it, and I can see you trying toy with her.”
“I would never toy with her. What kind of toy is she to you?” He slipped into his pants.
“What did you just say?” Vincenzo felt his adrenaline surge at the audacity.
Barefoot, Markus came forward, warily approaching him like an opponent. “It is not as though you married her for money.”
“Are you deranged?” Vincenzo raised his voice. “Get out of our home! And you’d better never see my wife again!”
“No marriage is legal without consummation! You never took her for your wife!”
Stunned, Vincenzo grappled with what Markus could possibly know about his marriage. “She told you that?”
Markus stood perfectly still, looking at Vincenzo as if waiting for him figure to it out.
“What? No.” Vincenzo staggered back toward the window. All intensity draining from him, he dropped into a chair at the side table. “No. No. What did she tell you?”
Markus took the seat across from him. “You love her.”
“She’s my wife.” It came out as a groan.
“Is something wrong with you?”
Vincenzo shook his head and choked out, “No.”
“I have to know. Giselle is your wife legally, but she is mine. What is the lie?”
Giselle’s voice startled them both. “Stop it. Both of you.”
Vincenzo turned and gaped at her standing just inside the open door. “Gigi! Have you been unfaithful to our marriage vows?”
“Don’t ask me that, V.” She put her hands up. “We both know that you can’t…”
“Can’t what?” Markus begged her to finish. “Can’t what?”
“Markus, stop.”
“Gigi!” Vincenzo blurted painfully. “Are you in love with this man?”
She looked him in the eye. “Oui.” There was no hesitation. She looked between the two of them. “Markus, I want you to drop it. Vincenzo, please go back to Venice.”
Vincenzo shook his head, ignoring Markus. “Gigi…we’re happy...”
“We were.”
Her words stung him. “You know I would never stand in the way of your happiness, but we know nothing of his motives. And the timing of your…” He fought to hide his displeasure. “…seduction is alarming.”
Bristling, Markus leaned forward. “I did not seduce her.”
Vincenzo ignored him. “Gigi, I love you so much. You know that.”
She nodded.
“I only want what you want.” His voice choked. “And I have to ask you if…oh this is so crazy…can you possibly know what you’re doing?”
“Go home, V.” She shook her head. “I’ve had enough distraction for one weekend, and all I want is to get back to work...”
“Now you’re starting to sound like yourself.” Vincenzo brightened.
“…with Markus.”
Vincenzo took a deep breath to steady himself. He felt as if he’d been punched. Nodding slowly, he stood up and walked unsteadily from the stable house. He called Petro to bring the car, and then walked back to the open door.
“Giselle, I have to tell you something, and I need you to listen. It’s important. Right now Salvio Scortini is waging a dangerous campaign to distance our family from the Vatican. He’s trying to discredit us and take control of Verdu Mer. I personally suspect Scortini is going to try to hurt us. I think he’s mentally unbalanced, but father doesn’t agree.”
“You should go to the police. Why are you telling me this?” Giselle’s eyes narrowed.
“He’s looking for a way to blackmail us.”
“You think I can be used by Scortini?” Giselle gave Vincenzo a strange look and countered, “I’m not the first wife to take a secret lover.”
“You’re damn-well the first Verona wife who has, and this has to remain a secret until you get a hold of yourself.”
“Please go home, V.” Her voice was tender and almost sad.
“All right, I’ll go.” He walked away without their usual parting kiss. Petro pulled up in the car, and as Vincenzo climbed in he was already texting Leonardo.
Giselle quietly pushed the stable house door closed and rested her forehead against it. “I can’t believe this is happening. He must have noticed the way I looked at you.” She rubbed her face with her hands and turned around to look at Markus. “He asked me what was going on, but I froze up. I wasn’t ready to tell him about us.”
“What was he talking about just before he left?”
“Vincenzo’s father is heading up a very important environmental project, rebuilding the oldest neighborhood in Venice.”
“That is Verdu Mer?”
“Oui.”
“Who is Scortini?”
“I don’t know him personally, but his family has always been in charge of building in Venice.”
“Vincenzo thinks he is dangerous, so I will take that to heart.” He walked over to her. “I will not let anyone hurt you. And what is it you are not telling me about—”
She made a tired gesture. “I don’t want to talk about my marriage, or someone who may be trying to discredit my in-laws.”
“All right, my beautiful one. I understand.”
Sweeping his eyes over her, taking in her glowing skin and carelessly elegant stance, he felt the rush of longing to possess her and give her pleasure.
She leaned back against the door, kicked off one shoe and wiggled her toes.
Markus kneeled down at her feet and slipped off her other shoe. He squeezed her foot for a moment.
“Let us think of something to make you feel better.”
He caressed her bare foot and the inside of her ankle. Then he stroked both hands up the backs of her legs to her rear end and squeezed the round firmness. Pressing his face into her belly, murmuring against her, “I liked hearing you say that you love me.” He gently nibbled her through her dress. “But I am afraid that you will always make me crazy.” He groaned into the material draped across her stomach.
She tipped her hips provocatively.
“Me? Make you crazy? What about you with your steel-blue eyes and your perfectly muscled body, mon amour?”
“That is the opinion of your friends, I believe. What do you think, my goddess?”
“Oh, I thought you were sexy the first time I saw you. I almost asked the police to give me a few minutes alone with you in your handcuffs, but a lady doesn’t say things like that about a complete stranger.”
“And, what type of lady are you, Giselle?” He swept his fingertips to her inner thighs. “Hmmm? I am learning that you are the kind of lady who sometimes does not wear underwear.”
He stood, pulled her to him, and breathed in her ear, “I believe you are the type of lady that gives no thought to her virginity until she climbs on top of a Ukrainian artist who is in love with her, and rides him for her own pleasure.”
Feeling waves of heat from his touch, she tried to sound chagrinned. “When you put it that way, I owe you an apology. But I’m new to sex, so I didn’t know better.” She pressed her body against him.
Markus’ hands explored her, and he planted kisses along her neck. “You should have a good teacher, then.”
“I agree. Do you recommend anyone in particular?” She was panting lightly now, but attempting to sound casual.
“No. I am sorry. But until we find you a good teacher, I can show you what little I know.” He began to work on her buttons.
“You’re very kind. Does any particular lesson come to mind?” She licked her lips and looked at him coolly, which drove him mad.
“Many things have come to my mind since I have known you.” He freed the last button and let her dress fall to the floor. Looking at her magnificent naked form made his pulse quicken, and he began easing out of his pants.
Giselle watched him strip, and then they tumbled to the couch where they lost t
hemselves in mutual exploration. Markus took his time following her body’s cues and when he couldn’t take it any longer he said, “Now I take you to bed to continue your education, okay?”
Her legs felt wobbly as she followed him. They climbed onto the big bed, and when she lay back, he began making love to her.
Looking into her eyes, a lazy smile playing at his lips, he declared in his sexy accent, “A good term to know, this is called the missionary position.”
“I’ve heard of it.” She tried to keep her voice cool despite what he was doing to her.
“You have?” He sighed and continued his slow undulations.
“My friends say that it’s how a man has you if he likes you.” His rhythms were making it difficult to breathe normally, and she found herself holding her breath.
He laughed—which did incredible things to his abs—and smiled down at her, flashing white teeth. “Oh, and what other positions did they tell you of?”
“They’re quite sure that if a man doesn’t like you but still wants to have sex with you, he’ll want something called ‘doggy style,’” she panted.
He shook his head, “I will want to have you that way, and it is not because I do not like you.”
They spent the rest of the afternoon and evening lost in their quest for pleasure, and it was late when they took a long, hot bath in the pool-sized tub.
“You’re a very good teacher, and it’s about time that I learned these lessons.” She poured soap onto a washcloth.
“I agree, it is time you learned about pleasure.” He let her massage him with the washcloth.
“Markus, what has your sex life been like?” She poured water from cupped hands onto his skin to rinse the soap off.
“Well, where I grew up there were no girls around…at least no desirable girls.” He leaned back into the water and the soap disappeared from his chest in a rush. “I lost my virginity when I accompanied my father on one of his business trips. I was fourteen. We were delivering windows to a castle, and a fifteen-year-old girl took me down into the dungeon.”
“A dungeon?”
“Well, it was just a storeroom when we visited it. And then there was the woman near my hometown. She was a widow, and she took me as her lover for years in secret.”
Stealing Venice Page 18
