The Italian's Runaway Princess. Andrea Bolter
in Hong Kong by trusting the wrong person. People weren’t always who they said they were.
It seemed all but impossible that this woman in front of him could have somehow staged the incident with the boys on the street so that she could bump into him. That she had known where he was coming from and where he was headed. However, he’d learned the hard way that some people would say or do anything to get what they were after. Danger came in all shapes and sizes.
“I didn’t understand what you said. Do you live here?”
“Not since childhood,” he answered, still sizing her up. “But now I am home, so it seems.”
The two-story main house anchored the buildings. Five steps led to the front door, constructed of the same oak as the door to the street. He looked up to the second-floor window that was his boyhood bedroom. Like all the windows, the sill was adorned with boxes holding plants in bright reds, oranges and yellows befitting the fall season. Beside it was the window in his brother Dante’s bedroom. Late at night they’d tie up sheets to hold on to and swing into each other’s bedrooms like Tarzan. Gio smiled at the antics of his daredevil brother, who hadn’t changed a bit even as an adult.
In the courtyard, a cast-stone fountain gurgled with water, surrounded by the benches where his grandparents used to spend their afternoons. His grandfather would good-naturedly yell at Gio and Dante to slow down as they played their racing games in the tunnel. Their grandmother, content to sit for hours with her needlework, would ply the boys with blood orange juice from their fruit trees to drink, the color of which was still Gio’s favorite hue in the world.
“We use the cottages now.” Gio pointed to the two outbuildings beside the house, both of which had entrances that faced the courtyard.
“You said we. Who is we?”
“My brother, Dante, and I. And other relatives who come to stay. My parents still live in the big house when they’re here, but we have a vineyard and winery in the countryside where they spend most of their time now that they’ve retired.” His father had built Grasstech from a small purveyor of computer central processing units, known as CPU chips, into the multibillion-dollar conglomerate it was today. “Dante is working with our affiliates in India, now that...”
Gio was glad he stopped himself. Luci didn’t need to know that Dante had failed at helming the company, which was why Gio had returned to Florence to do just that. Oversharing information had gotten him into trouble in the past, some of which he still needed to find a way to clean up.
In the silence of stopping himself, he focused on Luci’s attentive face. There was something utterly enchanting about her, with that long stately neck and those curious eyes. She was much shorter than he had noticed at first. Of course, with him so tall, almost everyone was petite to him. Her bowed pink lips complemented her porcelain skin. Her posture was so straight and that throat so graceful she could pass for a noblewoman or a young duchess. Yet she had an inner spunk that made the thought of her as a stuffy royal thoroughly implausible.
Good heavens! Women should be the last thing on Gio’s mind now that he’d returned home with a to-do list a mile long. And it was a woman who had got the company into trouble in the first place. He would be staying far away from them.
“That’s the Duomo!” Luci pointed to the top of the dome visible in the distance past the villa walls. Florence’s cathedral was one of the most identifiable sights in the city.
“Have you been inside?”
Her enthusiasm was contagious.
“No. I’m looking forward to seeing it. This is my first time in Florence. You rescued me just as I arrived.”
A little wiggle traveled between his shoulder blades when she said the word rescued.
Now that he had, in fact, rescued her, what was he going to do with her? He’d find her a hotel. But some of Grasstech’s investors were in town for dinner and he needed to get dressed, so it had to be quick. He wasn’t looking forward to all their chitchat that bored him to tears. Nothing of substance was ever discussed at these things. Plus they’d all be bringing their stodgy spouses. The wives would ask why a nice young man like him didn’t have a wife or a girlfriend.
With enough on his mind already, Luci’s problems couldn’t become his. Yet she’d been so shaken by those nasty boys following her, she finally accepted his offer of help.
She readjusted her purse on her shoulder, the one that contained her jewels. “May I ask you, Gio, would there be any hotel at any price that you could recommend for the night? I’ll have to reevaluate my budget, but I do need somewhere for tonight.”
He could give it a try. Pulling his phone out of his jacket pocket, he punched in a hotel search, hoping he’d recognize the names of some that were reputable.
“Yes,” he spoke after calling one. “Do you have any rooms available for tonight? I see. Grazie.”
He phoned another. “Have you a room tonight? No? Grazie.” After three more, his patience was up.
“That’s all right, Gio,” Luci said, although the quaver in her voice belied her words. “I’ll find somewhere.”
With her obvious lack of street savvy? What if some other criminals tried to take advantage of her like the boys did with the jewelry? He might not know this vulnerable young woman, but a gentleman was a gentleman and he could not send her away alone.
“Why don’t you stay here tonight?” Gio voiced the thought that had been bubbling up, despite raising caution. “I’m staying in this one.” He pointed to one of the side-by-side cottages. “Why don’t you sleep in the other?” He hoped that suggestion wouldn’t prove to be a mistake, but he couldn’t think of what else to do. He’d station her here, and the staff at his office could help get her situated tomorrow.
“Oh, no, I couldn’t.” Luci quickly shook her head with a side-to-side motion. “It wouldn’t be right.”
He put his hand over his heart in mock insult. “What do you take me for? I assure you I offer only to fulfill my quota of rescuing beautiful maidens from the mean streets of Florence.”
Was he flirting with her?
“How are you doing so far?”
“I’m desperately behind. You’d be helping me out.”
She looked at him with a bite to her lip. He knew she was deciding on his merits versus his potential risks.
“I’ll only consent if you let me repay you in some way.”
The idea quickly fell from his lips. “I have a very dull dinner with some investors to attend tonight. They will have no doubt chosen the poshest restaurant in Florence with a continental menu that manages to avoid anything authentically Italian. They’ll pick an impressive bottle of wine chosen for its price and torture the sommelier as they swirl it around in their glasses pretending to know something about the vintage. They’ll discuss the weather and the latest political scandal in Italy, and it will make watching paint dry sound compelling. Would you like to join me?”
“With an invitation like that, how could I possibly refuse?” Luci answered with a huge smile that shot straight into Gio’s heart. He returned the grin.
Once he’d extended the invitation to dinner, it suddenly sounded like a marvelous idea. She was far more interesting than the blah-blah-blah he’d have to exchange with the investors. Rightly, they’d save any substantial conversation for boardroom conferences.
Why shouldn’t he have a pleasant evening with an attractive woman? He knew he’d never take it any further than that. It was just dinner. And bringing her with him was better than leaving her alone on his property tonight. He’d get her out of the villa in the morning.
“It’s set then? Pick you up right here?” He gestured to the fountain.
“I have a cocktail-length dress. Will that