Page 59

Instinctively, her hand shot up to cover the bruise. “Nothing. Nothing.”

“That’s not nothing, let me see.” Fabiana reached and snatched her hand down. She leaned in closer to inspect it. “Well, it looks like a hickey, but it… does it hurt?”

Mira sighed. “No. We had sex, and things got a bit rough.”

“Rough sex?” Fabiana nose wrinkled.

Quickly, Mira tried to cover. “I’m fine. Giovanni is a bit much to handle when he’s worked up. It wasn’t intentional.”

Fabiana stared at her for a moment, and Mira held her breath waiting. Her friend smiled. “If you’re cool with it, then okay. Now c’mon and get dressed. I can’t wait to get behind this car.” She waved the keys and walked out.

Mira released the breath she held and dropped back onto the pillows. Last night he was in pain and sought solace within her arms; she knew that. Touching her shoulder, she wondered about the dark side of her lover and wanted to know what tormented him. A softer memory surfaced. She remembered his kiss and smiled. She thought she was dreaming, but she was almost certain he kissed her this morning before he left.

****

Giovanni sat silently next to Lorenzo. The car held the curvy road that sloped upward into the mountains. It was a wet slick morning; the countryside glistened from the remnants of a fresh rain. His gaze remained trained on the passing landscape. He didn’t know what possessed him last night. His hand clenched into a fist. He should have more control over his emotions, over himself. He closed his eyes and remembered how she held him. How soft and sweet her breath was against his chest when she slept in his arms. And the way she made love to him, tamed him. He had to get a grip on his desires for her. He couldn’t trust it to last.

“I wanted to be included.” Lorenzo’s voice was tight and hoarse, demolishing his thoughts. He opened his eyes and glanced over at his cousin.

“I think it best you and Giuseppe explain what ties you have.”

“Giuseppe? Ties? We have none.”

“Then there should be no problem with you facing him today?” Giovanni asked with a raised brow.

Lorenzo shook his head. “I can’t stand the runt.”

“Are you sure cousin? Now is the time to tell me anything you have now. I don’t want any surprises. Do you understand? Don’t let me walk into this meeting unprepared.”

“He’s contacted me. Several times he’s contacted me to meet over one deal or another, and I’ve entertained him out of respect for our families, but nothing more. When will you trust me? Must I bleed for you? Is that it? I’m loyal to you and Battaglia. No one else comes before the family.”

It was a small measure of reassurance, but Giovanni accepted it. His gaze returned to his window and the countryside. He hadn’t slept this well since he buried his parents. Now his head was clear. He may have to make some tough choices in the future as to his role in the family, and he needed to have Lorenzo step up if he was to ever be in his place. That meant mending past mistakes and quieting his cousin’s restlessness.

****

“What about this one?” Fabiana walked out of the dressing closet. She wore a daffodil yellow dress with thin straps. The chiffon material of the skirt fell in tight pleats that moved like an accordion when she spun around. The bodice of the dress had the same chiffon material arranged in a basket weave like pattern, slimming her waistline and pushing her bust upward. Mira thumbed through racks aimlessly when she walked out. Looking over her sunglasses she wrinkled her nose in disapproval, “Not your color.”

Fabiana blinked, shocked. “I like yellow.”

“I never dress you in this color; it's not complimentary to your pale skin with your red hair. You look like some kind of tropical bird.”

She turned her friend toward the mirror to make sure she saw her the way she did. Fabiana frowned and then her eyes stretched in recognition. “Okay. Guess you have a point.”

“I know I do. I’m the designer remember?”

“Hey? What has made you so bitchy today?”

“I’m not being a bitch. You asked for my damn opinion!”

The sales woman glanced up at them both. Fabiana said something in Italian to the salesperson and then narrowed her eyes on her. She hooked her arm around Mira’s and forced her to join her in the cramped changing closet. “Okay, what is it?”

“I’m worried about us.” She sat in the chair in the corner of the closet. Fabiana eased down the zipper and changed back into her clothes.

“Go on. I’m listening.”

“Look at us. We’re businesswomen, driven and successful, but look at us. What are we doing here?”

“Having a vacation, Mira! Good grief, we have next week to return to our lives but this week is ours okay? And don’t make this about us. This is about him. What happened between you two?”