The Mount Series Boxset

by K D Grace

  ‘Come on.’ He helped her to her feet. ‘Now that the danger of bleeding to death has past, my flat’s not far from here.’ He looked down at his watch. ‘I’ll grab a quick shower, then drive you back to Bernini Place so you can clean up for our tour.’

  She stopped in her tracks. ‘Our tour?’

  The smile that turned up the corner of his lips was the kind that should be eaten off if at all possible. ‘Hi! I’m Paulo,’ he said in a breathy sing-song voice, ‘And I’ll be your guide today for your super-duper-deluxe, top-of-the-line tour of Rome.’

  Once they were at his flat, he’d pointed her to the kitchen and told her to help herself to what was there, then made straight for the shower as fast as possible. He needed a little time to regroup. The incident in the park had shaken him badly, and he didn’t figure she needed to know that. Seeing the man holding her at knifepoint had terrified him and made him furious that she would fight someone for her bag. It was just a fucking bag! And yet, she was feisty. He liked that about her, even if it had made her reckless. Rome was a fairly safe city if people used common sense, and she had done nothing that should have drawn the attack. It worried him a bit. He was sure the police would find nothing and wasn’t sure his detectives could do much better, but the incident was definitely more than a simple pick-pocketing. Who would want to harm her, he wondered.

  He returned to find her standing on the balcony with a bottle of sparkling water in her hand. The glare of the sun made it look as though she wore a halo. He could see the shape of her spine and the details of her bra where her thin shirt clung from perspiration. He sniffed, but the distance between them was too great for him to smell her. He moved closer. ‘You could have had a glass. I do have some, you know.’

  ‘Figured you probably did somewhere,’ she said without turning around.

  There was a long moment of tense silence and from somewhere in the city a siren wailed.

  He didn’t know what to say. Funny it had been so easy on the plane and then when they texted it had felt so natural. ‘Are you ready to go?’ he asked.

  She nodded and followed him through the flat to the garage where his car was parked. It wasn’t a long drive to Bernini Place and he filled the silence by bringing her attention to the touristy points of interest while she oohed and aahed politely in appreciation. They needed to talk. God they needed to talk, but he couldn’t seem to get past the discomfort of the situation they had been placed in through no real fault of their own. She left him in her own kitchen while she went to shower, and he found himself feeling not so much slighted, but more as though she were imitating him because she didn’t know what to do either. But he wasn’t going to leave things as they were. He just couldn’t.

  It was possible Liza had lingered a little longer in the shower than she’d intended. It was mostly not knowing how to react to the man in the kitchen. She had dressed in a summer skirt and a tank top and was sitting on the edge of the bed combing her hair when she was surprised by a knock on her door and the strong scent of coffee. He entered with a cappuccino in one hand and a first aid kit in the other. Without a word, he handed her the coffee, knelt in front of her, and opened the kit.

  ‘It’s all right,’ she said, trying to pull away. ‘It’s not that bad really.’

  He offered a smile and nodded for her to lift her skirt, which fell to mid-calf. With a blush, she did as he asked.

  ‘Have you eaten?’ Before she could answer, he pressed on. ‘I figured you probably hadn’t. While you were in the shower, I picked up some nice pastries at the shop around the corner. I’m sorry, I’m not a good host. I just –’

  She sat the coffee down on the nightstand. ‘Why did you tell them?’ Christ, she couldn’t believe she’d just blurted it out, but it needed to be said she supposed. He stopped tending her knee and stared up at her.

  ‘Why did you tell Ms Martelli and Jim that we’d … had sex? I mean I know I started it. I was out of line. But I would have never …’ She swallowed back tears. She absolutely wasn’t going to cry in front of him. If he could be a hard ass, so could she.

  His eyes widened and he shook his head. ‘You think I told them?’ With one hand on the half-opened bandage the other came to rest gently on the uninjured knee. ‘Fuck! I would have never, ever done such a thing, Liza. OK, I was excited about your sense of smell. I’m in the perfume business, and your nose is the best I’ve ever seen by a long shot. I thought maybe you might want to work with us on a project. I was excited about how you stimulated my own sense of smell, which is pretty damned good by the way. And …’ He struggled once more to focus on tending her injured knee. ‘OK, I was excited about the way we smell together, about the implications.’

  ‘About the implications?’ She kicked at him with her bare foot, but his reflexes were fast. He caught her ankle before it hit the hard muscles of his stomach. ‘About the fucking implications. What was I, a goddamned experiment to you?’

  His thumb was making tight little circles around her anklebone, which he still held firmly. ‘Hell no, you weren’t an experiment. You were a fucking obsession. Once I’d smelled you, once you’d touched me and I’d smelled us together, that was it! And after we were in the lounge and what happened there, I couldn’t stop thinking about you. I couldn’t.’

  ‘Is that what you told them then, that there was this chick who sniffed you and you sniffed her back and then you had sex on the plane because you were obsessed with her. Oh, for fuck sake!’ She shoved him away and stood to pace. ‘I promised myself I wasn’t going to do this. I promised I’d not act this way. It’s my fault. I started it all. How can I complain about whatever you do with it after the fact?’

  He stood and grabbed her shoulders, turning her to face him. ‘I didn’t tell them. I would never.’

  ‘What then?’ she said, stamping her foot.

  ‘You obviously don’t know Coraline Martelli. The woman is scary intuitive. She knew. She knew the minute I mentioned your nose. I don’t know how she knew. And even then no one had made the connection that it was you until you showed up in my office. Well, then I suppose our response to each other was obvious, and she isn’t above toying with people when it suits her.’

  ‘Oh well that’s good to know – that I need to watch my back while I’m here. I wonder if I should find someplace a little less upscale and a little less Martelli to stay.’

  ‘You still don’t understand, do you?’ He fell into step and paced with her. ‘She got it. She only half believed me until you showed up, literally sniffing around. But then she totally got it. She wants your nose, and yes, she will toy with you and badger you until she gets what she wants. Me …’ He shrugged and ran a hand through his hair. ‘With me it took a while. I’ll admit it, OK, I was thinking with my cock. And I wasn’t terribly disappointed that the lounge was crowded and I had to sit by the sexy woman who knew how to fill out a sweater. And don’t even begin to accuse me of just wanting you for sex when I’m pretty sure it wasn’t my brain that was turning you on.’ He stopped and turned to face her, risking life and limb to grab her again by the shoulders. ‘Look, Liza, I like you. I like what I know about you, and I’ve been doing a little research since Jim dropped the bomb in Coraline’s office. I’d like to get to know you better, and I’d like for us to start over and let bygones be bygones. I think we’re gonna need to if we’re gonna work together, don’t you?’ He lifted an eyebrow and cocked his head. ‘What?

  ‘You’re starting to talk like her. I only caught about half of that.’ She felt the tension drain from her shoulders. ‘But I think it was the important part, the part I needed to hear. Shall we turn over a new leaf?’ She extended her hand, which felt pretty stupid, considering the man had given her the best sex she’d ever had. Twice! And he still smelled like sex on wheels. But he took her hand in his, then instead of shaking it, his mouth curled into that edible smile and he brought it to his lips and laid a warm kiss on the back of her knuckles, and both of their scents spiked. But she forced hersel
f not to notice.

  Chapter Eight

  The Skype tone ended abruptly, and Rita squinted at her laptop monitor. ‘Mom? Are you all right?’

  Coraline could tell she’d caught her daughter in her office at Talkabout magazine. She was always struck by how beautiful her Rita was, and how strong. She was proud of her. She told her that a lot these days. She wished she done it more when she was younger. ‘I’m fine, darling, just fine. Do you have a few minutes?’

  ‘Of course,’ Rita said, lifting a cup in salute. ‘Always time for a nice cuppa with me mum,’ she put on her best British accent.

  ‘I met Liza Calendar yesterday. It took me a while to remember how I knew her. She was your friend when you were in university, wasn’t she?’

  Rita offered the broad smile that had Martelli written all over it. ‘Still is. I’m not ashamed to admit I pulled a few strings with Martelli to make sure her article didn’t fall through the cracks.’ There was that smile again. ‘You’re her hero, you know? Though I probably shouldn’t tell you that. It’ll go straight to your head.’

  ‘Why did you never bring her home to meet me?’ She hadn’t intended to ask that question. The two of them pretty much left the past in the past now, and they were working hard to make up for lost time.

  ‘Mom, you were never home, and –’

  ‘And neither were you if you could help it. I know. I’m sorry, darling. I didn’t mean to bring that up. It’s just that she’s … well, she’s a very interesting person.’

  Rita leaned forward, clutching her cup between her palms. ‘You know about her nose.’

  ‘She came sniffing around the office yesterday, literally. I’ve never seen anyone like her. I could hardly contain myself. Has she always had such a sense of smell?’

  ‘As long as I’ve known her, but she usually tries to hide it. What happened?’

  Coraline lifted her own cup and sipped thoughtfully, wondering how much she should reveal. But then she was never known for her subtlety. ‘She had sex with Paulo on the flight to Rome.’

  Rita inhaled coffee, sputtered and then grabbed a couple of tissues to wipe the rain of caffeine off the monitor. ‘She had sex with Paulo? Seriously?’

  Coraline nodded. ‘You seem surprised.’

  ‘Why wouldn’t I be? I mean obviously she liked the way Paulo smelled. It’s just that it’s so rare.’

  ‘So rare what?’ Coraline motioned Alessandro into her office, and he made a show of placing a fresh coffee and a pastry in front of her before he turned and left.

  Once Rita was sure they were alone again, she leaned closer to the monitor. ‘Well, most men have a hard time getting past Liza’s nose.’

  Coraline let that sink in with a rise of butterflies. This woman sounded better and better all the time. ‘Then she doesn’t …’

  ‘No, Mom, she most definitely doesn’t sleep around. In fact some guy in New York who was hot for her actually made her sneeze. I laughed when she told me, and then I felt bad about it. I mean can you imagine? Oh, and emotions. She smells emotions. Actually, she used to be great fun in bars. We’d go in and order a drink and she could sniff out who was hitting on whom, who’d been doing the nasty in the alley, who was jealous, who was horny. Liza’s amazing.’

  ‘Why did you never tell me about Liza’s nose – me, a woman whose livelihood and that of her daughter at the time, depends on scent?’

  Rita blew out a sharp breath. ‘Mom, I never told you anything at the time. You were never home and when you were, we weren’t talking.’

  ‘Sorry. Again asking questions I know the answers to.’ She nibbled at her croissant and dabbed the crumbs from her lips with a linen napkin. ‘I want her, Rita. If she’s anywhere nearly as good as you and Paulo seem to think, then I want her for Martelli.’

  The smile disappeared from Rita’s face, and she folded arms across her chest. ‘Mom, is that all Paulo is interested in? Is that the only reason he fucked Liza, because if it is, I’ll kill him, and you can tell him that for me. She’s one of my best friends, and toying with her is beneath him, or it damned well better be.’

  Coraline lifted her hands as though she could fend off the verbal attack. ‘You’ll have to talk to your brother about that, darling, but if it’s any help, he seemed as dazed and confused by what happened as Ms Calendar was.’

  ‘Oh I’ll talk to him, alright, don’t you worry, and I’ll come over and personally kick his ass if he hurts her.’

  Coraline couldn’t hold back the smile. Though Paulo wasn’t Rita’s biological brother, they had always related to each other like older brother to kid sister, and when the time came that they were both of an age at which something less platonic might have developed, it never did. Though Coraline would have been all right with it if their relationship had gone in that direction, really, she had always secretly seen her daughter with Edward. Of course she’d never tell Rita that. Rita would have seen it as her meddling again. Which it was, but then what was a mother for if not to meddle – especially when she knew she was right.

  ‘What are you smirking at?’ Rita glared at her mother. A face that used to mean a fight now meant a friendly argument.

  ‘You’ve always been a good friend, sweetheart, and you know your brother well enough to know he’s not the kind who would deliberately hurt anyone. I’m sure he won’t do wrong by Liza Calendar.’

  Rita raised an eyebrow. ‘And what about you, Mom? What are your plans for Liza Calendar?’

  The smirk became a full-blown chuckle. ‘Me? I simply want to see what the woman’s nose can do before I make her an offer she can’t refuse.’

  Rita laughed at her mother’s Godfather impression, and that was just fine. Rita could laugh, but Coraline was about to meddle again.

  Augusto Paulo Delacour was easy to be with. In the sun-drenched ruins of the Forum under the blue Roman sky, their scents seemed to blend in a different way. He knew his city, and it was clear he loved it. And Liza loved watching his enthusiasm and sharing it. No one could live their whole life at a fever pitch. There had to be something more to admire about a person than the fact that he smelled amazing and he was a fabulous fuck. She couldn’t keep from wondering if the scent of a person told more about them than just how sexually compatible they were or the present state of their emotions. She knew so much about Coraline Martelli and the business she had taken over from her father. The woman was her hero in so many ways. But she’d not paid much attention to the man who was the heir apparent to the Martelli empire, the man who was good enough to step in and take over for the daughter who wasn’t interested. His nickname was Paulo, the Nose. How had she missed that? A quick internet search had informed her that he was the child of a Portuguese secretary who had worked for Coraline and an Italian father, who died of a heart attack when Paulo was eight. His mother died only a two years later. With no other relatives except an ancient great aunt in Lisbon, Coraline took the boy in, and the rest was history. Still, being all but adopted by Coraline Martelli didn’t account for his talent and drive. The man couldn’t do what he did if he didn’t live through his nose, maybe not exactly like Liza did, but his livelihood depended on it nonetheless.

  Her attention returned to the Forum and the intriguing man who stood next to her. It was one of those rare occasions when there was no one in the House of the Vestal Virgins except the two of them. The reflecting pools were deep azure under the midday sky, and most people had moved to shadier places, but she lingered. After the cool damp of Portland, where she now lived, the heat felt delicious against her skin, and Paulo seemed used to it. The place had that wonderful scent of ancient history writ large, then left to crumble and age in the sun.

  ‘The Vestals had freedom no other women in Rome did,’ Paulo said. ‘I think in some ways Coraline is a modern example of a Vestal Virgin.’ He laughed to himself. ‘Minus the virgin part, of course.’

  A part of Coraline Martelli’s appeal to Liza had always been that the woman had gotten pregnant on purpose becaus
e she wanted a daughter. She never took the father’s name for her child, never mentioned who he was. She rose above the scandal by doing what her father did, only better, by making his business twice the business it had been; by giving Rita the Martelli name and never once letting anyone look down on her for choosing to raise Rita as she had. Liza smiled at her image in the reflecting pool. ‘No, definitely not a virgin.’

  They walked together in silence admiring the statuary around the outer courtyard. ‘So who has the right to do what in their kitchen?’ Paulo asked.

  When she gave him a questioning look, he said, ‘You know, the text you accidentally sent me last night?’

  ‘Oh. No one important.’ She left it at that, and he didn’t pry. After her embarrassing mistake, she’d deleted the message and decided to ignore Carl a while longer. But she could almost smell all the questions Paulo wanted to ask about the strange woman who had all but attacked him in the airport lounge.

  ‘Do you always sniff out your men?’ When he did finally ask a question, she bristled, then stopped and bent to smell one of the roses in bloom in the courtyard to calm herself before she spoke. ‘As a matter of fact I do.’

  ‘I see,’ he said. ‘And how has that worked out for you?’

  Surely he wasn’t jealous. But that sour citric smell was there. ‘It sucks, actually.’

  ‘How so?’ He turned and nearly ran into her.

  She looked up into his eyes and drew in a deep breath, which was a mistake because it brought with it the heat of his scent. ‘Would you enjoy making love to me if I smelled like rotting vegetation or wet garbage? How about if all you could smell on me was deceit? How about if the smell of me made your nose itch or made you sneeze uncontrollably? Would you still want to make love with me? Would you even be able to?’

  Before he could do more that gape at her in surprise, she jerked her head toward a couple who had just passed them, hand in hand. ‘Those two,’ she whispered, ‘they just had sex here somewhere close by in the Forum. She’s still wet from him, even though he tried to clean them both. He probably has a handkerchief or something because his right-hand pocket, when he brushed past me, smells strong of them. He’s smug, she’s uncertain of how she feels about what they’ve done. They smell like too much garlic fried in burnt butter. That man over there?’ She nodded to a man with a camera glaring into the reflecting pond. ‘I don’t know what he’s angry about, but he smells like mustard and wet dog. How easy do you think it is for me to have a love life when I live with this every day?’ She brushed the tip of her nose with her fingers.