Captivated by Her Italian Boss

by Rosanna Battigelli

  “I didn’t mean in teaching, darling. I meant in the world of men—”

  “I’m not here to be with men, Mother,” Neve retorted. “Really?”

  “Well, just make sure you don’t take up with any of the locals.” Her tone sounded as if she was wrinkling her nose. “People in those small towns talk, and your name will be sullied.”

  “Mom, it’s the twenty-first century, for God’s sake. Things have changed in the last hundred years.” Neve felt her jaw muscles tighten.

  “And by the way, you barely gave me any details about this nanny job you’ve taken on. Who are the parents?”

  “There are no parents. The little girl’s an orphan.”

  “Oh. Poor girl. Well, who hired you, then?”

  “The girl’s uncle. He’s her godfather and guardian.”

  “Is he married?”

  Neve heard the sharp edge in her mother’s voice. Where was she going with this?

  “No, Mom. And I don’t have time for this interrogation. I have to get back to work.”

  “But—”

  “Sorry, gotta go. Bye, Mom.”

  Neve was too agitated to try to have a rest. If only her mother would respect her wishes and give her some space. Maybe next time she would just not answer the phone...

  She changed into a tangerine halter dress and sandals, then unwrapped the towel and went to sit by a window to comb and dry her hair. She returned to the washroom to check her appearance and decided to add a touch of eyeliner and a hint of green eyeshadow, finishing with a dab of orange-red lipstick. Now she was ready to face Davide. And talk.

  She took a deep breath and left her room. Davide’s bedroom door was shut but the door of his study was half-open. She strode quickly to it before she could change her mind. Her pulse spiked at the sight of him, his broad back to her, his laptop open.

  Davide had taken a shower, too; his hair was still damp, the tendrils curling at the top of his head. He was wearing a white T-shirt that outlined his shoulder muscles and black jeans that fitted his body perfectly. He was looking at the screen intently, scrolling through it with one hand while cupping his chin with the other.

  Was he doing research for his novel? Neve felt a surge of pride, thinking of how hard he had worked to accomplish his goals over the years...

  An image flashed in her mind of the first time she had seen him, returning midday from a farm or somebody’s property, his hands and face earth-stained, his clothes dampened with sweat. Standing on her balcony at Villa Morgana, what had captivated her instantly had been his eyes. Black and intense, looking up at her as if he had been struck by a vision. They had set off a series of sparks inside her that she had never felt with anyone else, before or since.

  Neve swallowed and knocked gently. Davide immediately shut his laptop and swiveled in his chair to face her, his brows furrowed. She saw his eyes narrow and quickly scan over her before returning to meet her gaze. He lifted his eyebrows but remained silent.

  “I—I think we need to clear up a few matters, Signor Cortese.”

  “And I think you can call me Davide now that we’ve gotten to know each other a little more,” he returned smoothly “Come in, Neve.” He gestured to one of the recliners.

  Neve walked over and sat down, a strange drumming in her chest. He always pronounced her name the Italian way—and she liked it—but this time, something in the deep resonance of his voice made her nerve endings tingle.

  He rolled his chair over the hardwood floor and stopped a few feet away from her.

  They sat looking at each other for a few moments, and unable to hold it in any longer, she blurted, “You had stopped passing by the Villa Morgana a couple of days before I left for Canada. You had made me think that—”

  “That I wanted you?” he said huskily, leaning forward. “Or should I put it more delicately...that I wanted to meet you?”

  Neve bit her lip. She was no longer a somewhat naive eighteen-year-old. Still a little shy, maybe, but there was no reason why she couldn’t be frank. “Yes.”

  He cocked his head as if she was a puzzle to him. “And...?”

  She frowned. “And I wanted to know why...”

  Davide looked at her as if she had two heads. “You know perfectly well why, Neve. Have you lost your memory?”

  Neve felt the heat in her chest rising to her neck and face. “I don’t understand what you’re saying. I was there for two days after, waiting for you, but you just stopped showing up.”

  Davide let out a laugh, but there was no humor in it. “You made it quite clear in your note that you wanted nothing to do with me.”

  Neve’s jaw dropped. Was she in another dimension? “Wh-what? What note?”

  Davide stared at her intensely for a moment, then rose to return to his desk. Neve watched him open the drawer and then reach into it farther. He returned to sit across her and held out a folded note in his hand.

  * * *

  Davide wasn’t sure if her memory was defective, or if she was pretending not to remember—for whatever reason—but she couldn’t deny the contents and meaning of the note she was now reading intently.

  He had it memorized, imprinted in his mind like a hot branding iron:

  I will not meet you. Your bold request is inappropriate and not appreciated. You would do well to remember your place.

  Davide watched her read the note again, before turning it over and discovering his message. She looked up at him, blinking as if in shock.

  “I did not write that note.” Her voice cracked. “But I know who did.” She handed it back to him, her hand trembling.

  Davide’s heart had jolted at her words. And at the emotions flashing in her eyes in mere seconds. Shock. Awareness. Defeat. And pain. In an instant he knew she was telling the truth.

  The realization pierced him to the core. “Who?” he ground out.

  She bit her lip again and he saw that her eyes were misting. “My mother.”

  She dropped her head in her hands, pressing them against her eyes. “I can’t believe it.”

  Davide felt his stomach begin to churn. “Are you sure, Neve?”

  Neve nodded, still holding her head. “That’s her handwriting.”

  “Why?” He couldn’t control the edge of anger in his voice.

  Neve let her hands drop limply in her lap. She looked across at him and said nothing. Her eyes had darkened like an angry winter sea. But there was a sadness in them that made Davide want to take her in his arms and hold her.

  He took a long, deep breath and reached for her hands, caressing them softly with his own.

  And that was when she burst into tears. He rose and gently but firmly pulled her up to cradle her in his arms. He let her sob against his chest, soaking his T-shirt, while he stroked her head and back. The warmth of her tears against his neck ignited his primeval instinct to protect his woman, and he embraced Neve even tighter.

  He lowered his head to brush her forehead with light kisses, and when her sobs began to subside, he tilted her chin up to his and kissed her as thoroughly as he had done in the garden. In the way that he had dreamed about thousands of times in the past eight years. He tasted salt from her tears and after gently wiping them away, he kissed her over and over, wanting every kiss to make up for the pain her mother had caused her. And him.

  He still wanted to know why Neve’s mother had done this. But he wasn’t going to push Neve into answering. He could wait, now that the main mystery had been solved. “Bianca will be waking up soon,” he murmured in Neve’s ear. “We can talk later.” He brushed a kiss on her temple. “Why don’t you go and check on her, and then we can all go for a ride into town.” He looked deeply into her eyes. “How do you feel about a gelato or some cannoli at the Pasticceria Michelina?”

  The look in Neve’s eyes made his heart and stomach flip.

  Her
lips slowly stretched into a smile. And then she stood on tiptoe to answer him with a kiss.

  A kiss that made him forget that eight lonely and bitter years had ever gone by...

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  NEVE SPLASHED COOL water over her face in her bathroom. Her stomach was still churning, thinking about her mother. How could she? She had had no right to manipulate Neve’s life in the way that she had. Neve’s first impulse had been to call her mother immediately, ream her out, but then had changed her mind. She had to think this one through.

  Her mother had gone too far, interfering with Neve’s business, her private business. She had been eighteen that summer. Old enough to accept a young man’s invitation to meet, for God’s sake. But no, Lois Wilder had to stick her controlling finger into Neve’s life, poking it where it didn’t belong. Again. Intercepting and responding to a note that had been meant for her.

  Davide had asked why but Neve had been reluctant to explain just then. She had needed time to process what this all meant, how she would handle things with her mother and how she and Davide would deal with this new knowledge.

  Neve knew exactly why Lois had done it.

  Because she was a snob.

  Neve had never liked this character trait of her mother’s. Lois had always liked to flaunt her money, display her status through the clothes and jewelry she wore, or by the different cars she drove. And she had wanted Neve to do the same. “The way you look is everything, darling,” she had said to Neve on numerous occasions. In fact, she had drummed it into Neve’s head since kindergarten.

  And she hadn’t appreciated Neve’s reluctance to comply.

  Over the years Lois had cajoled, flattered or even scolded Neve in order to get her to be more like her. Subtly and not so subtly criticized Neve’s choice of clothes as being too common and had tried to discourage Neve from associating with some of her friends whose families she had deemed to be in a lower financial or social status than theirs. Lois’s eagle eyes had often judged people based on the way they looked.

  So no wonder that Davide hadn’t passed inspection. Her mother would have instantly been horrified, having noted Davide’s dusty and dressed-down appearance. Neve remembered all too clearly how her mother had yanked her back into her room when she had caught her smiling at him across the street. And she obviously hadn’t liked the way Davide had been staring and smiling back.

  But how had she managed to intercept Davide’s note and send it back? Neve felt another surge of anger toward her mother, but she took a few deep breaths, counted to ten and then headed to Bianca’s room. They were going to be driving to the special place where Davide had wanted to meet, and the last person Neve wanted there was her mother, even if it was only in her thoughts.

  The bakery’s facade hadn’t changed, but the interior had been modernized to appear retro, Davide told her with a smile. The owners had purchased the adjacent building so they could add a pizzeria and a bigger seating area.

  Neve liked the look of the place. The round tables had pastel-colored surfaces with chrome edging and legs. Their colors of coral, robin’s egg blue and buttercup yellow made the place cheery.

  Neve noticed that people had turned to look at them with unconcealed curiosity. Some greeted Davide and he smiled or waved back, but he did not introduce her to any of them. “If I do, I’ll never have a moment with you alone,” he murmured as he led her and Bianca to a table near the front window. “I hope you don’t mind.”

  “Not at all.” She smiled, relieved. “I’m not really in the mood for socializing.” I’d rather keep you to myself.

  Davide pulled out a chair for Neve and Bianca, placing Bianca between them.

  “Zio Davide, can we order pizza? I’m starving.” Bianca rubbed her tummy for emphasis.

  Davide chuckled as he checked the time on his phone. “No wonder. You haven’t eaten in at least five hours.” He glanced at Neve. “Is pizza okay with you? We can have something sweet afterward.” His gaze lingered on her lips before returning to lock with hers.

  I already had something sweet...your kisses. “You pick. I’m sure I’ll enjoy whatever you choose.”

  Davide ordered a pizza alla melanzana. “Something I’m almost sure you’ve never had—pizza with roasted eggplant,” he said, flashing her a smile. “You might as well try new things while you’re here...”

  The way that Davide was looking at her was making her heart do jumping jacks in her chest. She lost herself in their depths for a few moments, imagining what would have happened if she had met Davide here eight years ago... Would she have let him charm her and take her to a more private place? Would he have kissed her? Made her melt like she had after his searing kiss in the garden?

  The waiter came over with three glasses of water and Davide immediately stood up and greeted him with a hug before introducing him as Agostino.

  “Piacere.” Neve smiled. “Pleased to meet you.” She wondered why he seemed a little flustered all of a sudden, looking from Davide to her, and then back to Davide.

  Agostino greeted Bianca and placed a paper place mat in front of her with a box of crayons before returning to the kitchen with their order.

  “My childhood friend,” Davide explained. “His mother worked at the Villa Morgana eight years ago. You might have seen him around... And he’s the one I asked to deliver the note to your room.”

  Neve frowned. “Now that you mention it, he does look a little familiar.”

  “Well, from the looks of it, some of the locals here are probably thinking the same about you.”

  Neve glanced casually over her shoulder and met several smiles. She smiled back shyly and turning back to Davide, murmured, “They’re staring at me.”

  “Why wouldn’t they be staring? Sei bellissima...”

  Neve flushed at his compliment.

  “Besides, this isn’t a big town. Word gets around. People know I’ve hired a nanny for Bianca, and they’re curious.” His mouth twitched. “It’s in their nature.”

  Agostino returned with their pizza, its aroma making Neve’s mouth water. The cheese on top was golden brown, with thin rounds of roasted eggplant spread all over. Neve had her first bite and nodded her approval at Davide. “My new favorite pizza,” she said. “It’s heavenly.”

  “I was drawing heaven,” Bianca piped up, holding up her drawing. “See? There’s Mommy and Daddy.”

  Neve swallowed. Bianca’s drawing had a spiky sun in one corner and some clouds over mountains, with two stick figures standing on one cloud. They looked like they were holding hands. All around them, Bianca had drawn hearts. Neve glanced at Davide, and the look in his eyes made her heart hurt.

  * * *

  Davide had lost his appetite. Seeing Bianca’s creation had given his heart such a jolt that for a moment, he wished that he were alone with the pain. And yet, seeing the empathy and compassion in Neve’s eyes made him want to be alone with her, so she could comfort him as he poured out his grief and mourned his losses.

  Months ago he had tried to be stoic at Violetta and Tristan’s funeral, but there had been moments that had simply been too much. Seeing his little niece standing next to the coffin had been one of those moments, and he had not been able to hold back the tears. He had picked her up and they had both cried, Bianca clinging to him with big, sorrowful eyes that had haunted him ever since.

  Her drawing was simple but so profound. Davide was shaken by the symbols that immediately flashed in his mind as he scanned the page, symbols that had come naturally to Bianca. The sun shining brightly and the mountains to represent her parents’ ski trip. The stick figures on the clouds to show her parents up high, where heaven was. And finally, the detail that pierced his heart: the stick figures with hands joined.

  Whereas he had questioned his faith and beliefs after the accident, here was a five-year-old who had suffered a trauma no child should ever have
to suffer, yet her beliefs were clearly evident in her drawing. Beliefs that had obviously originated from her upbringing by two loving parents. And the hearts all over the page showed the reciprocation of that love.

  There was no car in the drawing, or anything resembling a sign of the accident. Davide let out a long breath. “That’s a beautiful and very special drawing, Bianca,” he murmured, putting his arm around her shoulders. “We will have to frame it.” He bent down to give her a kiss on the head. “Your mamma and papà would be very proud of you, as I am.”

  Bianca nodded as she bit into her second piece of pizza, seemingly unperturbed at the moment.

  But Davide could tell that Neve was not going to eat much more. He called Agostino over and requested a box so they could take the unfinished pizza home.

  Davide ordered an espresso for himself and Neve, and a spumoni gelato for Bianca. He held his hand up when Neve offered to contribute to the cost. “You are not paying for meals, remember?” He looked at her sternly. “That’s part of your working conditions.”

  “Thank you, Signor Davide,” Neve said, blushing as she added a touch of sugar to her espresso.

  “And I told you to drop the signor, remember?” Davide gazed at her with raised eyebrows. “Since we’re now on more...familiar terms?” He watched her light flush deepen and her eyelashes flutter briefly, causing a wave of desire to pulsate through his body.

  Seeing that Bianca had finished her gelato, Davide paid the bill and said goodbye to Agostino, adding quietly that he’d be in touch soon. He held the door open for Neve and Bianca and ushered them into his van. He made sure Bianca’s seat belt was fastened properly and climbed into the driver’s seat. He glanced over at Neve. She was holding Bianca’s drawing, a wistful look on her face. And then she looked over and caught his gaze. He had almost expected her to look away, but she held his gaze for five seconds...then ten...

  “Zio Davide, I’m tired. Are we going home?”

  Davide gave a start and looked back at Bianca. “Right now, tesoro. Close your eyes and rest. We’ll be home in no time.”