“We’ll be fine,” she assured him.
After she heard the click, she removed her robe and got under the covers. For the next hour she pondered his strange mood, not able to make sense of it.
Nicco had so many parts that went to make up his fascinating personality, she couldn’t keep track of them all. But she wasn’t complaining. The only thing that mattered was that he’d become her entire world.
She was here with him now. And here she would stay until he sent her away.
CHAPTER EIGHT
THREE nights later Callie left Nicco and the dog sleeping in front of the hearth. As carefully as possible she tiptoed to the bedroom to phone her boss on Nicco’s cell phone. It was two in the morning. Hopefully Dr. Wood would still be at the hospital before he slipped home for dinner.
“North Monterey County Animal Hospital.”
“Hi, Janie. It’s Callie. How’s everything going?”
“Callie! Everything’s great, but you just missed Dr. Wood. He’s over at the Selanders’s.”
“You’re kidding! That’s why I’m calling. I wanted to know if their mare had delivered yet.”
“It’s happening as we speak.”
“I should have been there.”
“Instead of being on vacation? Surely you’re joking! I would kill to have won a month’s vacation to Italy of all places. All those sexy hunks hanging around the piazzas looking even more gorgeous than the statues, if you know what I mean.”
Callie clutched the phone until it almost cut into her skin. She knew what Janie meant only too well. By an uncanny quirk of fate, she was married to the most gorgeous one of all. It was time to change the subject.
“How’s Chloe?”
“She sleeps in the hall between the surgery and your apartment waiting for you.”
“Oh…” Tears filled Callie’s eyes.
“Dr. Wood takes her home every night to be with Roxy so she won’t be so lonely. He thinks it’s helping.”
Roxy was an adorable Boston terrier. “That sounds like our Dr. Wood.”
“He’s a real sweetheart all right.”
“Janie? Will you please tell him I called?”
“Of course. I’d put Chloe on the phone, but when you’re not here she gets nervous if anyone comes close to her except Dr. Wood.”
“I know. Thanks for the thought, Janie.”
“You bet. Take my advice and enjoy yourself for as long as you can before you have to come home.”
Home?
How would Prunedale ever feel like home again if Nicco weren’t there?
Phoning the hospital hadn’t been such a good idea after all. Her emotions lay too close to the surface.
“Callie? Are you still there?”
“What? Oh, yes. Of course!” she hastened to assure the receptionist while she wiped her eyes. “It sounds like you’ve got another call. I’ll talk to you again soon. Bye.”
She clicked off, terrified at the prospect of leaving Nicco for good. Her world would never be the same again.
Eager to watch him while he slept, she hurried into the other room. After putting the phone on the counter, she crept over to her mattress to lie down again.
“Homesick already?” came the sound of the low, vibrant voice she loved so much.
She quivered. If only he knew the truth…
“I thought I’d better call my boss and check in.”
“All is well?”
“Yes.” Her heart was pounding so hard, she was certain he could hear it. “I’m sorry if I woke you.”
“You didn’t. I haven’t been able to sleep.”
Callie jerked her head in his direction. “Why? Are you sick?”
“No.”
“Then what’s wrong?” she cried softly in alarm.
“Haven’t you noticed?”
She sat up and pushed the hair out of her eyes. “Noticed what? I don’t understand.”
“Listen—”
Nicco was a grown man, but over the last few days while they’d taken leisurely walks with the dog and had fixed disgustingly fattening meals which they consumed with relish, she discovered he could act just like an incorrigible little boy.
By now Valentino was wide awake. He got up on all fours in his guard stance.
“I don’t hear anything.”
“Exactamente! You’ve solved Valentino’s snoring problem. It used to keep me awake nights. Now the silence is torturing me.”
His response was so unexpected, Callie burst into laughter. “You should have thought of that sooner.”
“That’s not all,” he muttered, sounding out of sorts. “He’s not my dog anymore. Since you came to live with us, his favorite place to sleep is on your leg. I’m lonely over here all by myself.”
So am I, Nicco. I want you so badly, I’m in pain.
“Close your eyes and I’ll tell you a story.”
“What kind?”
“The only kind. Once upon a time there was this handsome prince who lived in a faraway kingdom.”
“My mother tried to read me that fairy tale once,” Nicco interrupted, “but I didn’t like it.”
“That doesn’t surprise me. Like you, this prince was blessed with all the riches that could be bestowed on a mere mortal. You wouldn’t think he would be sad, would you? But he was.
“He had the run of the forest which of course made him a superb athlete. Over the years he became a friend to the creatures and did all sorts of good deeds, but there was a growing restlessness inside him.
“Every evening before the sun set, he would climb up to his isolated tower and look through the invisible bars of his castle window, wishing he could be free like the townspeople below.”
Valentino decided to lie down again. At least Callie’s bedtime story appeared to be putting him to sleep.
“Ironically those very townspeople who lived in the valley were busy dreaming their own dreams. They would look out the windows of their cramped apartments. Beyond the noise, beyond the wash hanging on the line, they would gaze longingly at the castle on the hill, wishing they could be the prince and ride around the country all day in his chauffeur-driven royal limousine while they ate chocolates.”
“Chocolates?” His bark of laughter reverberated off the walls of the cozy room.
Her mouth curved upward. “Hand-dipped truffles and succulent golden pears from the royal fruit trees growing outside the prince’s window.”
After his laughter subsided he said, “I don’t believe the prince had any idea such thoughts were going on inside the heads of the townspeople.”
She remained poker-faced. “Well, he wouldn’t, would he. Not when all his energy was devoted to gaining his freedom.”
“In order to do what?”
“Ah… I thought you didn’t like fairy tales.”
“I’ve changed my mind.”
“Unfortunately I don’t know the rest.”
“Don’t leave me hanging now,” he said in a strangely thick voice. “You were just getting to the good part. Make it up if you have to. Live dangerously.”
Callie sent him a covert glance. When she discovered his gleaming black eyes trained on her in the dying light of the embers, her body trembled.
“I thought that’s what I was doing by staying here with you.”
He raked a hand through his luxuriant black hair as if he were disturbed by something. “I tell you what. Tomorrow I’ll show you what happened to the prince so you’ll know the end of the story.”
Though she was jumping out of her skin with excitement, she merely nodded. “That would be nice. Now I don’t know about you, but I’ve managed to make myself sleepy.”
No sooner had she put her head back down than she felt him move around to her other side.
“Nicco?” she cried in an unsteady voice. He’d drawn close to her the way he’d done the first night at the farmhouse. “What are you doing?”
He buried his face in the profusion of her newly washed hair. “You don’t
mind if I hold on to you, do you? I’m cold.”
The exact words she’d used on him when she’d had the ridiculous idea to tempt him into kissing her.
“I-isn’t there any more firewood outside?”
“Not unless I chop it.” He slid his arm around her to get comfortable.
She waited for what seemed like a long time, expecting his lips to make a foray to hers. Hungry, desperate for his mouth, she finally turned a little to help him. Ever since that moment before his parents had interrupted them in the surgery, she’d been longing to be in his arms again.
Feverish for contact she whispered, “Nicco?”
There was no answer.
She lifted her head and discovered he’d fallen asleep. For the rest of the night she lay there in agony, sandwiched between the man and dog she adored.
Positive she would stay wide-awake for the rest of the night, it surprised her that she didn’t stir again until mid-morning. To her profound disappointment, she found herself alone.
Nicco had left her a note on the kitchen counter.
I’ve taken Valentino to the Cozzas. When I return, we’ll ride into Torino. It’s brisk out. Since we’re going on the bike, better wear the sweater you bought.
Her disappointment changed to excitement. At last she was going to find out what this complicated former prince did to earn his daily bread. Whatever it was, he was probably thrilled to have the whole wedding business behind him so he could get back to his normal routine. Far be it from her to keep him from his work.
After a quick breakfast, she hurriedly braided her hair. Before she left the bathroom, she applied a new apricot frost lipstick. Until now she’d worn no makeup at all.
She eyed her purchases sitting on the bed. After a moment she chose to dress in the new cream-colored jeans and a matching long-sleeved turtleneck. They toned nicely with her new tan cardigan and sandals.
When Nicco breezed in the farmhouse door minutes later declaring he was ready to go, he didn’t say anything about her appearance. However as he donned his motorcycle jacket, his black eyes seemed to linger on her face and figure longer than usual, dissolving her bones with that look.
She put on her helmet, pretending a nonchalance she didn’t feel before following him out the door. He’d already wheeled his bike from the garage into the courtyard.
Callie walked over to it. “In the sun your motorcycle looks like an enticing lick of red flame. It has so much personality it says ‘I’m here. Take me if you dare.’”
“As I recall, you already did that.”
Their eyes caught after he’d fastened the chin strap of his helmet.
“I’m sorry for that, Nicco.”
“Don’t ruin it,” he mocked. “Given enough provocation, you and I both know you’d do it again without the slightest hesitation. I’ve lived with you long enough to know we’re two of a kind.” He got on the bike to start it.
Two of a kind?
She flung her leg over the seat and grabbed him around his taut stomach. “I’ll have you know I descend from the Vikings!”
Laughter escaped. “I thought as much the first time I laid eyes on you at the airport. You’re a lot of woman, esposa mia. Most men would be terrified to take you on.”
Her retort was lost in the scream of the motor. By the time they reached the highway, any leftover rage was swallowed up in the utter joy of being with this man she loved to the depth of her soul.
This time when they reached the outskirts of Torino, he headed in an easterly direction. Once they left the freeway he took a series of turns until they came to an area that looked industrialized rather than residential.
He eventually slowed down to negotiate a turn into the parking area of a compound of warehouses. She saw dozens of cars. There was one small office building. Nicco didn’t stop until he’d pulled around the back of it. After they jumped off the bike, he used a key to let them inside a door bearing a sign in Italian that she assumed meant “private.”
He led her to the first door on their left. It looked like a normal office equipped with computers and monitors.
While he went over to his desk, she removed her helmet. “Do you own your own computer business or something?” she asked after turning to face him.
Nicco had discarded his helmet and jacket. Now he was seated in his swivel chair booting up his main computer. She got the impression he hadn’t heard her question. At closer inspection she realized a fire burned within him. Its energy reached out to her like a living thing, compelling her to move around and see what he was seeing.
A design labeled Prototype I, Danelli NT-1 super racing bike, came up on the screen. Another click of the mouse and an enlargement of the intricate engine design sprang before her eyes. It set off a chain reaction in her head.
“NT… Nicco Tescotti,” she whispered in awe as all the pieces of the puzzle began to fit into place.
He was a mechanical engineer.
“You’ve replaced Ernesto Strada…” That’s how Nicco had access to certain information the rest of the motorcycle world didn’t know.
He shook his head. “I could never fill the shoes of such a genius. The round piston, dual ignition, the single side arm—all those were his inventions. He was a man far ahead of his time. Except for Luca who had family money, most of the people in the business thought he was crazy.”
“Like a fox,” Callie murmured. “My Strada 100 still puts the competition to shame.”
Nicco nodded. “I’ve just refined his ideas a little more using EDF digital modeling. Now everything’s fully fuel injected. Luca happened to like those changes. One thing led to another. He decided to put Danelli bikes back on the map and brought me along for the ride.”
“Don’t be so modest, Nicco. Please show me what else you’ve designed.”
He typed in something else. While they waited for it to appear he said, “The motorcycles you’re about to see are for the road, not for racing competition. Except for contacting a few major distributors in Europe, I’ve done the majority of marketing over the Internet.”
“I bet orders are flooding in from around the world.”
He nodded. “It’s a shame the Internet wasn’t available to Ernesto. Here’s one of our most popular models. It’s the 600 cc, specially designed for comfort during long trips. More and more women are riding these days. I intended it to appeal to the fairer sex, but men seem to like it, too.”
One by one they flashed on the screen: café au lait and chocolate, aqua and cobalt blue, tangerine and cream, purple and lavender.
“Ooh… I wouldn’t know which one to pick!” she cried excitedly. “They’re all so beautiful.”
“I’ve named this model La Dolce Vita.”
“The good life.” She read the translation out loud. “It’s the perfect name for it. With that chocolate one, you’ve tapped into the secret delight of the general public.”
Nicco grinned.
“And here I thought the poor prince didn’t have a clue. No wonder they’re selling like hotcakes. Show me more.”
She heard the click of the mouse and yet another model appeared on the screen.
“This one is the 1000 cc, fully loaded to appeal to the racing driver who still wants something powerful when he’s not on the bike he uses at the track. It comes in a range of the primary colors with black.”
Callie leaned closer. ‘You’ve named it The Sidewinder. Where I come from, that’s a rattlesnake.”
“You go to the head of the class. The snake moves by a distinctive lateral looping motion of its body and delivers a powerful punch from the side. Exactly what the rider wants on crowded mountain passes.”
“Let me see all of them!”
For the next little while he kept her enthralled.
“Don’t tell me that’s it?” she cried when he’d finished with the series.
“The rest are racing bikes.”
“Like your red one?”
“Yes.”
“What do
you call yours?”
“The Monster.”
“How appropriate!”
He chuckled.
“Okay, Nicco Tescotti. Confess. Now I want to see your secret weapon for the female professional racer.”
One black brow quirked rather diabolically. “You think I have one?”
“I know you do.”
In a surprise move he turned off the computer and got to his feet. When she looked into his black eyes, they were alive with passion. But it was a passion reserved for his work.
If ever he were to look at you like that, Callie Lassiter…
“Such faith deserves a reward,” he murmured.
Euphoric at this point, she followed him out the door and down the hall to a back room. When he unlocked it and ushered her inside, she let out a gasp.
Propped in the middle of a room surrounded by racing gear was a bike like nothing she’d ever seen. Dazzled by the tricolored motorcycle in silver and gold with thin strippings of cream to stylize it, she was at a loss for words.
“You like it?”
“Like it—” she squealed the words before approaching it with reverence. “How can you even ask me that question? I’ve never seen anything so stunning in my life. Talk about a secret weapon!
“If you were to allow it on the track, there would be dozens of accidents because the other drivers would take one look at it and forget what they were supposed to be doing.”
“I agree.”
His voice sounded so husky she lifted her head to glance at him, only to discover his gaze leveled on her with an intensity that held her spellbound.
“I—I would imagine Lancelot made this same kind of impact when he galloped beneath the sun in full, gleaming armor.”
A ghost of a smile hovered around Nicco’s lips. “Actually I had Lady Godiva in mind. The glint of the sun of her long gossamer hair. Rather breathtaking.”
“You mean when the wind came along. So that’s what the prince was dreaming about from his tower window,” she teased.
He flashed her a wicked smile. “Something like that.”
She went weak in the knees. “What did you name this one?”
“I haven’t decided yet. It’s down to two choices.”
“So you’re not going to tell me?”
Bride Fit for a Prince Page 12
