He pulls the phone out, but only studies the display.
“You’re not going to answer it?”
The spirited aria from Tosca plays a few more seconds then stops. Giovanni has a sick feeling in his gut. “She knows.”
“Knows what?”
“That we just got married.”
Lindsay shrugs. “Is that so terrible? You have to tell her sometime.”
Giovanni doesn’t say anything.
“You weren’t planning to tell her?”
“I was hoping to put it off for a while. Possibly forever.”
“Maybe she’s calling about something else. You don’t know for sure.”
He rubs his brow, trying not to get stressed. “Maybe.”
She grins. “No offense, but I have to admit having your mom as a mother-in-law is one thing I’ve never envied Natalie. Francesca is kind of a handful.”
He smirks. “Actually, she’s your mother-in-law now too.”
“What?” Her eyes grow wide as realization dawns on her. “Oh, shit!”
He laughs at her panicked expression. “At least it’s only temporary.” He rubs his forehead again. “Christ, neither of my parents are going to be onboard with any of this.”
“We got married for a good cause though. You don’t think they’ll understand?”
“A fake Vegas marriage? Are you kidding?” He takes a deep breath. “No, this is way too out of the box for them. They’re more inclined to hire lawyers and throw money at a problem.”
He notices there’s a message on his phone, but doesn’t listen to it. “How the hell did she figure it out? I don’t get it.” He thinks back to when he spoke with his mother a few days ago, and he’s certain he didn’t give anything away.
“I think it’s my fault.” Lindsay appears chagrined. “I told my sister and Anthony we were getting married last week. I didn’t know you wanted to keep it quiet. He probably told your mom.”
“No, I spoke to Anthony.” Giovanni was having lunch with some friends at one of his favorite restaurants in Rome when he got a phone call from his irate brother giving him the third degree. “I asked Anthony not to say anything, so it isn’t him.”
She’s watching him with his phone. “Aren’t you going to listen to the message she left?”
“Maybe later.”
She smiles. “Do you want me to call her for you and explain the situation?”
“No, that’s okay. I think I’m man enough to deal with my own mother.”
Lindsay raises an eyebrow, and Giovanni laughs.
She takes the phone from his hand and puts it down, and then she unfolds herself from his lap. She stands in front of him and stretches her arms overhead, arching her back.
His mouth goes dry as his eyes roam over her. “What are you doing?”
“I was just getting a little cramped and needed to stretch.”
She’s tall and lithe, with legs that go on forever. He’s never seen Lindsay naked in full daylight, and it’s a sight to behold.
“Come back here,” he says, reaching out for her, but she moves out of his grasp.
“I think I’m going to take a shower now. Maybe spend the rest of the day in one of the poker rooms. We are at the Bellagio, so I should at least checkout Bobbie’s Room.” She gives him a coy smile. “Unless you have something better in mind?”
He rises from the chair and moves toward her, but instead of waiting for him, she quickly goes into the bathroom and closes the door.
He rattles the knob. It’s locked. “What the hell are you doing?” he growls.
“Girl stuff,” she tells him from the other side.
His brows rise, but then he sighs and goes over to sit on her side of the bed. Her suitcase is open nearby with various items of clothing shuffled around. The heels she had on last night are tossed on the floor. Her laptop and phone are sitting on the nightstand, along with the gold hoop earrings she wore yesterday, a tube of red lip gloss beside them.
He stares at the minutia of her life and is struck by how much he likes having it all here. It isn’t just her fox that relaxes him, but Lindsay herself.
The bathroom door opens, and she emerges wearing nothing but a smile.
“I was worried you might have gotten dressed,” he says with a grin.
“Me?” She laughs. “You’ve yet to learn this about me, but I’m the original nudist.”
He takes her in with appreciation as she climbs onto the bed beside him.
“The question is why are you still dressed?”
His eyes continue to roam as she comes closer, and he grows more aroused at the sight. She pulls on his shoulders until he’s lying over her, looking down into her face. She smells like mint, and he realizes she must have brushed her teeth.
“I’m not the original nudist,” he confesses.
“Don’t tell me you’re shy.”
He nods. “A delicate flower. I hope you’re gentle with me.”
She chuckles in a way that tells him gentle is the last thing she’ll be. “Of course, I’ll be very gentle. Don’t worry.”
“Thank you.” He’s smiling at her, and he can’t stop. He’s certain he looks like an idiot, but he can’t remember the last time he felt this happy.
“Now, where shall we begin?” she breathes and then pulls him in for a kiss. And all he can think is so damn glad I stayed.
They doze for a while, and when Lindsay wakes up, she discovers Giovanni is still asleep. She remains still, watching him beside her. All the normal tension on his face is relaxed and he looks younger, peaceful for a change. She wishes she knew who or what happened to him. Part of it’s the stress and sadness over losing a good friend and then trying to help Paul’s family, but there’s obviously more going on. She’s fought her own demons, and clearly he has some he’s been fighting for years too. If only he’d tell her what they are.
As she’s thinking all this, he blinks a little and opens his eyes. It’s late afternoon so the room isn’t dark, the Vegas sun shining through the gaps in the curtain.
He doesn’t speak as they gaze at each other. Kindred spirits.
“Wow, look at you,” she whispers, reaching out to stroke his cheek. “Your eyes are as blue as the skies of Norway.”
He chuckles then closes those blue eyes for a few seconds. “Thank you. All my Viking relatives will be pleased you think so.”
“You’re very welcome, Olaf.”
He groans with contentment then pushes the covers back to get out of bed. “I need to take a leak.”
He gets up and she watches him walk, that ass and those thighs all moving in perfect concert. “Hurry back,” she tells him. “I have more plans for you.”
“Plans? Christ, woman you’ve already worn me out.” He looks at her over his shoulder. “In fact, I may have to start charging you.”
“Oh? And what’s the going rate?”
“Let me think about it.” A few seconds pass and then she hears him in the bathroom pissing. “Twenty thousand,” he calls out.
She rolls her eyes. “I’m afraid I can’t afford you,” she mutters.
There’s water running in the bathroom sink, and a minute later he emerges, still naked. She takes him in from head to toe. He’s muscular all over and beautifully proportioned, including that cock—currently flaccid, bouncing gently between his thighs.
On the way back, he stops at the cart with the leftovers from the room service they ordered earlier. “Do you want anything?”
Lindsay sits up in bed, shoving some pillows behind her back. “Maybe. What’s left?”
“Mostly fruit,” Giovanni says, popping what looks like a piece of melon into his mouth.
“No, that’s okay.”
He brings a plate over with him and sits in bed beside her. She can’t resist helping herself to one of the strawberries. “I was thinking about what happens when we get back to Seattle tomorrow. I’ll probably stay with Natalie and Anthony while I look for a place.”
He turns
to her with confusion still chewing. “What are you talking about? You’re going to live with me as my wife.”
“Do we really need to take it that far?”
“Yes, we do. There’s a good chance we’ll have to meet with someone from the adoption agency, and they’ll need to see that we’re an actual couple.”
She puts the leafy part of the strawberry back on the plate. “But how? Are you going to rent an apartment? We can’t just live in a hotel.”
He shakes his head. “I’ve got it covered. I already bought a house in Seattle.”
She goes still. “You did what?”
“I bought a house last week.”
“How?”
“Online.”
Her eyes widen.
“It’s close to the hospital where I’ll be working, but also looks close enough to the university for you.”
“You bought a house off the Internet? I’ve never heard of such a thing.”
He shrugs, still picking at the fruit on his plate. “We needed someplace to live and besides, I start work soon.” His expression turns officious. “I don’t like loose ends.”
She doesn’t know what to say. “I still have a small studio I rent. It’s in a warehouse with a bunch of other artist’s studios.”
“Like the place in Berlin?”
“Sort of, but nobody lives in the building. Not on a permanent basis, anyway. I could probably stay there for a couple of weeks if it doesn’t work out with my sister for some reason.”
He puts the plate down on the nightstand then reaches over and takes her hand. “I just told you I bought a house. You’re living with me. I’m your husband, remember?”
“Are we going to share a bed?”
“Probably.” He pauses. “Don’t you want to?” He’s studying her now.
She feels a little uneasy. “It’s just that we barely know each other, and yet we’ll be living together.”
Giovanni considers her. “It’s a four-bedroom house. You could pick out one of the rooms as your own. Would that make you feel better?”
She nods. “I guess so.”
He’s still holding her hand, looking down as he plays with her fingers, examining them. Lindsay, who dislikes her hands, tries to pull away.
“This arrangement between us has obviously gotten more complicated,” he says.
“It has. All the more reason I need my own space.”
He doesn’t reply and she senses he’s a little wounded, although she’s not sure why. “I’m not saying I want to stop having sex or anything,” she clarifies. “Or stop exploring things between us.” In truth, she’s so attracted to him they probably could share a bed in his house, but then it would seem too much like an actual marriage. And I definitely can’t deal with that.
He grins a little, still playing with her fingers, starts kneading them. “Glad to hear it.”
As always, his touch feels amazing, but she still tries to pull her hand away. “Let go.”
“What’s the problem?”
“I don’t know. I don’t really like my hands.” She can’t believe she’s admitting this. Over the years, she’s learned if you don’t point out faults to men, they rarely see them on their own.
“That’s nuts.” He’s still holding her hand, examining it now. “Why don’t you like your hands?”
She shrugs. “Everybody has to have something about themselves they don’t like.” In truth, she knows her hands are too rough-looking, and they’re hardly dainty. “They’re too big, and because of the various media I work with my skin is always dry.”
“Your hands aren’t big.” He holds his up against hers to measure, and they’re noticeably larger. Despite their size, Giovanni’s hands are elegant with long, tapered fingers. It’s easy to imagine him using them for the intricate work he does.
Her hands look like a peasant woman’s, though she’s certainly not admitting that out loud.
He’s still looking down, and he laces their fingers. “We have something in common too. We both work with our hands.”
Her brows go up. She’s never thought of that. “True,” she murmurs. She watches his handsome face, tries to imagine what his work is really like. So much responsibility. “What made you decide to become a pediatric plastic surgeon? I’m guessing you’d make more money working on adults.”
He doesn’t answer right away. “I went through a bad time when I was an undergrad in college. I was already pre-med, but everything in my life basically fell apart.” His thumb caresses the top of hers.
Lindsay wants to ask what specifically fell apart, but doesn’t.
He continues on his own. “My dad finally intervened and got me a job working at a children’s hospital. Just grunt work, mostly volunteer stuff, but I really enjoyed it. I’ve always enjoyed being around kids.” His expression goes tense as he remembers the past. “It was smart of him to do that. It made me realize how selfish I’d been.”
Giovanni shifts position and lies down to get more comfortable. “That’s partly why I’m indebted to Paul. He was my roommate at the time, and when things started to go bad for me, he’s the one who went to my parents and told them what was happening.”
“What was happening?”
“I moved out of the dorm and into a party house, started working at that strip club as a bouncer.”
“Were you still taking classes?”
“Barely.”
Lindsay lies down too. “And your parents didn’t know? Didn’t they see your grades?”
“No, they didn’t check. I’d always been a good student until then.” He reaches for her hand again. “Despite my acting like an asshole and telling Paul to mind his own business, he still managed to get in to see my father—no easy feat in itself. He told my dad how I’d moved out of the dorm, how my life was turning to shit.” He grows quiet. “At first, I was seriously pissed at Paul for meddling, but later I realized he’d done me a favor. We became really good friends after that.”
“Did your father ask you why you went off the rails?”
“No. I think he made some assumptions, but he didn’t know the real reason.”
She keeps her breath steady. “What was the real reason?”
He studies their joined hands, and for a long moment, he doesn’t say anything. Finally, he whispers, “I fell in love with the wrong woman.”
It’s a short flight back to Seattle the next morning, and Anthony picks them up from the airport with baby Luca in his arms. Lindsay already knows Natalie has to work half days at the bakery on Saturday but is delighted to see Luca, who has grown quite a bit in the last three months. He’s chubby and bubbly, with a head of curly dark hair and big brown eyes.
“My God, he looks just like you,” she exclaims, taking Luca from Anthony’s arms. Luca studies her with an alarmed expression, but doesn’t cry—his curiosity apparently stronger than his fear. “Who’s your favorite auntie?” she coos to him.
On the way back to Seattle, she sits in back with the baby, while Giovanni takes the passenger seat up front. Anthony has a lot of questions about their marriage, but Giovanni tells him it would be easiest to explain the whole thing with Natalie present as well.
“Mom phoned me twice yesterday,” Anthony tells him. “You need to call her like immediately. The last I heard, she was thinking about flying up here.”
Giovanni finally listened to those voice messages last night—three in all. Apparently, Francesca learned about the wedding from Sophia, his cousin in Rome, the one who helped him pick out that suit he wore.
“Yeah,” he mutters. “I’ll call her when we get to the house.”
Lindsay doesn’t add anything to the conversation but instead, looks out the window at the city she’s come to call home for more than ten years. It looks the same, but different too. There’s a sense of comfort being back here again, to a place she knows so well.
Oddly, it was cathartic going to Las Vegas, and she doesn’t have the same dread of the city she had before. It helped
her to see how the places she has bad memories of have changed. Not that she plans to go back. Although, before leaving, she saw a sign advertising next year’s World Series of Poker and it keeps sticking in her mind.
When they arrive at the house, her sister comes out of the front door dressed in jeans and a T-shirt, her hair pulled back into the ponytail she usually wears to work. Natalie is shorter than her and quite curvaceous, with a stubborn streak a mile wide. She’s also solid and dependable, the kind of person you want on your side when the chips are down. Natalie went through a rough time a few years ago when her husband left her for another woman, but in the end, it wound up being the best thing that could have happened.
“Hey, stranger!” Natalie grins, pulling Lindsay in for a hug when she gets out of the car. “I’m so glad you’re back. I missed you.”
“I missed you too,” she says, immediately surrounded by her sister’s familiar vanilla scent.
When they pull apart, she can see the way Natalie is looking her over, a million questions on the tip of her tongue.
“Before you ask, I’m fine.”
“You look great, but you always do. Is everything really okay?” Natalie glances over at Giovanni, who’s holding Luca and speaking Italian to him in a sing-song voice. Unlike most guys still single in their thirties, who are awkward with babies, he’s completely at ease.
Of course he would be.
It occurs to her how he must not only love children but probably wants a large family of his own someday.
Not that I could ever give him that.
“I’m fine,” she tells Natalie, feeling a familiar hollowness. “Let’s go in the house and Giovanni and I can explain the whole thing to you guys.”
They head inside, the men following.
“Where are Chloe and Serena?” Lindsay asks Natalie, referring to her two nieces. Chloe is Natalie’s daughter from her first marriage, and Serena belongs to Anthony.
“Serena is at a friend’s house and Chloe is at her dad’s, but she should be home soon. Both girls wanted to be here today when they heard you were flying back.”
Some Like It Hotter (Sweet Life in Seattle #3) Page 21
