Tuscan Heat Read online

  Gianna was seated at the kitchen table wearing one of his dress shirts. One knee was pulled to her chest, the other leg dangling casually off the wooden stool. She sat writing in her notepad, her attention focused on the words flying out of her pen. She was so absorbed in her work, she didn’t notice him until he’d eased to her side and gently planted a warm kiss against her neck.

  She purred softly. “Hmm! Buon pomeriggio, come stai?”

  He kissed her again. “Good afternoon, and I would have been better if you had been in the bed when I woke. But thank you for asking.”

  She giggled as she tilted her head to kiss his lips. “Sorry about that, but I sometimes have to follow my muse when it leads me.”

  He nodded in understanding. “Something smells really good.”

  She nodded. “Signora Rossi left breakfast. There’s fresh pastry in the oven, muesli and yogurt in the icebox, and I can pour you a cup of cappuccino whenever you’re ready.”

  “I can do it,” he said. “You keep writing.”

  “I actually think I’m done,” she said as she laid down her pen. “I’ll type up my notes when I get back home.” She took a sip of the fresh coffee he’d poured for her.

  Donovan moved from the counter to join her at the dining table. He came to an abrupt halt, spying an easel and oversize blank canvas sitting in the corner of the room. He pointed with his index finger. “What’s that?”

  She tossed a quick glance in the direction he pointed. “I thought you could paint,” she answered, her own finger pointing to the supplies that rested on the coffee table. “I bought oils, watercolors, acrylics and a ton of brushes. There’s also extra canvas, canvas board and some other stuff the man at the art store said you might like.”

  “Wow!” he exclaimed once, and then again. “Wow!”

  She smiled. “You only live once and it’s something you wanted to try, so I think now is as good a time as any.”

  He took a seat beside her, taking a moment to sip his coffee. “Before I forget again, how do you know Sophie Mugabe? I saw you two talking yesterday.”

  Gianna looked up to meet his curious gaze. “What makes you think I know her?”

  “I saw you two talking yesterday,” he repeated facetiously.

  She rolled her eyes. “Last year we dated the same man. He was an English professor there at the university.”

  “At the same time?”

  “Unfortunately. He wasn’t honest about dating the two of us. We both found out when she showed up unannounced at his apartment and walked in on him and me unexpectedly.”

  Donovan eyed her with a raised brow. “I’m sure that was interesting!”

  “There might have been some words exchanged and a punch or two thrown. It wasn’t pretty, and definitely not one of my proudest moments.”

  His eyes widened. “Now that sounds like a Jerry Springer fiasco.”

  “Jerry who?”

  “I guess I’m not the only one who needs to brush up on my pop culture.” He laughed.

  She narrowed her gaze on him.

  “It’s not important,” he said, meeting her stare. “So what happened to the guy?”

  “After they wired his jaw, he moved to Florence. At least that’s what I was told.”

  “You broke his jaw?”

  She tossed up her hands, a smile twitching at the edge of her mouth. “Why does everyone think that I had to be the one to break his jaw? Why couldn’t she have broken his jaw?”

  “Did Professor Mugabe break the man’s jaw?”

  “No. But that’s not the point.”

  Donovan laughed. “So, that means you have a serious right hook. You are just full of surprises!”

  “I reacted in the heat of the moment.”

  “And Sophie?”

  “She’s still holding a grudge like I purposely dated a man she was interested in.”

  He suddenly thought back to his last conversation with the woman.

  “What?” Gianna asked, eyeing him curiously.

  They locked gazes. “You might be,” he said with a slight shrug.

  Gianna stared for a brief moment, then shook her head, understanding washing over her expression. “So that’s why she got so heated when I told her I was there to see you!”

  “She got heated?”

  “Royally! Why didn’t you tell me you and she had something going on?” She leaned back in her seat and crossed her arms over her chest. “Because I do not play second to any other woman!”

  Donovan laughed. “There’s nothing going on between the two of us, and you are my one and only.”

  “But she likes you?”

  “She does.”

  “And she wants to be in a relationship with you?”

  He nodded. “But I told her that couldn’t happen because I only see her as a friend and colleague, nothing more.”

  She hesitated for a split second. “Don’t trust her. She’s one of those women who puts the fury in ‘hell hath no fury.’”

  “I don’t think...” he started, before being interrupted.

  “David had a stellar reputation at the university. Granted, our little incident didn’t bode well for him, but me breaking his jaw was the least of his problems. I made him hurt for breaking my heart, but she set out to destroy him. By the time she was done, he wasn’t able to teach. At least not anywhere here in Italy.”

  “It couldn’t have been that bad,” he said, his tone hopeful.

  Gianna shook her head. “It was worse than bad. Do not, I repeat, do not trust her.”

  The sound of rushing water suddenly bore down against the rooftop. The weatherman’s prediction of bad weather with torrential rains had finally materialized. Donovan rose and moved to the front door, staring outside. Gianna eased her body against his, her thin arms wrapping around his waist as she looked past him.

  “There goes my picnic lunch down by the beach,” Donovan said.

  “We were picnicking today?”

  “I thought it would be a nice idea.”

  “We can picnic here instead. While you paint my portrait.”

  He nodded and smiled. “We can definitely do that.”

  She squeezed him, tightening her arms around his torso. “We can also go back to bed,” she said as she released her grip and turned, moving back toward the bedroom. As she disappeared through the doorway, she tossed him a seductive wink over her shoulder as she let that dress shirt fall to the floor, her naked backside beckoning him to follow.

  Chapter 11

  As Donovan moved into the room, Gianna lay sprawled out on the bed, her naked body posed seductively atop the pillows. Moving to the foot of the bed, he stood staring down at her, marveling at just how beautiful she was.

  Gianna lifted her torso upward, her weight resting on her elbows and forearms. A pointed toe slowly trailed the length of her other leg as she pulled her knee to her chest and pushed her leg down again. As he eyed her, lust searing in his gaze, her nipples hardened and she couldn’t suppress the shiver that quickened her breath and raced the length of her spine. Her pulse rate soared.

  Donovan lifted one knee and then the other, crawling onto the mattress top. He grabbed her foot and pulled her toward him, the gesture possessive and demanding as he straddled his body above hers.

  Gianna reached up to wrap her arms around his neck, pulling him against her as she kissed his lips. This time there was nothing gentle about the connection, not like the many times before. It was rough and fiercely passionate as she thrust her tongue toward the back of his throat. She could barely stifle a moan as he drew her closer to deepen the embrace.

  Lips and tongues were moving rapidly, both tasting like the strawberries and grapes they’d shared over breakfast. Donovan’s kisses moved from her mouth down to
her neck as he nibbled at the soft flesh, leaving a love bite against her skin. He lowered his head to slowly draw his tongue across one breast as he pinched the other lightly with his thumb and forefinger.

  Gianna inhaled swiftly, the sharp intake of breath moving him to lift his eyes to her face. Rapture painted her expression, her eyes closed and her head thrown back against her neck. He resumed his salacious ministrations, his hands traveling slowly across her stomach and downward. The trek was teasing, fingers kneading and massaging until he was able to slip his large hand between her thighs, two fingers dipping into her sweet spot. She parted her legs to allow him easier access, and he dragged a fingernail across her slit and the pad of his thumb tapped at her clit, the pressure against her love button moving her to moan. He repeated the action again and again until Gianna was fighting to catch her breath, her moans like the sweetest balm.

  He dipped his fingers deeper, penetrating her opening. The gesture met with copious fluid that made the transition seamless. He slowly thrust one finger and then three, furiously rubbing the sensitive spot until she was close to orgasm. He felt her tense, her muscles beginning to contract around his thrusting fingers. And then she cried out, tipping off the edge of ecstasy.

  The two made love for hours, over and over again, the entire weekend lost in Donovan’s bed. Donovan couldn’t fathom any intimate connection being sweeter. He loved her intensely, every fiber in his being needing her. Wanting her like he’d never wanted anyone else. And when the sky darkened that last night, his manhood throbbing like a piston between her legs, Gianna whispered in his ear, the words I love you echoing around the room.

  * * *

  Franco stood at the kitchen stove, the ingredients for a tomato-based sauce resting atop the counters. When Gianna entered the home, he paused to stare as he reached for a dishcloth to swipe his hands clean.

  “Buongiorno, papà,” she chimed as she kissed his cheek, then took a seat at the counter.

  Her father nodded. “Welcome home. I was starting to think that I was going to have to send the troops out to find you.”

  Gianna reached for a stalk of celery, pulling the vegetable to her lips. “Please, like we don’t both know that Signora Rossi was keeping you posted on my whereabouts.”

  Her father laughed. “She may have told me something. She knows I’m a concerned father!”

  “That’s why she told you everything! I’ll never understand why you two never married.”

  “We never married because I have only loved one woman in my life, and that was your mother. Felice Rossi is a sweet person and a good friend, but she could never hold a candle to my Angela.” His gaze shifted as he fell into the memories of the woman who was gone. He changed the subject. “So, things are good with this young man of yours?”

  She nodded. “Things are very good! Donovan’s...” She paused, her eyes shifting from side to side. She suddenly looked back up at her father. “I love him, papà,” she said, voicing aloud what had been in her heart for a while.

  Her father smiled. “He’s a good man. I like him, and I know he’ll do right by you. I look forward to our becoming friends. And I’ll be even happier when I can call him son. I will be able to call him son, right? And soon?”

  Gianna laughed. “I don’t know about that, papà! We’ll have to see.”

  “Have you talked about it? About what you want out of the relationship?”

  “We’re still learning each other. I’m not trying to rush things.”

  “You spent the weekend with that man. I think you’ve already rushed things.”

  Color flushed Gianna’s cheeks a deep shade of red. This time she was the one to change the subject. “Where are Carina and Graham?”

  “They went to visit his parents. They’ll be back at the end of the week.”

  Nodding, she rose from her seat. “If you need me I’ll be in my office. I have some work I need to catch up on.”

  Her father turned back to his sauce. “Let’s walk the vineyards later. I want to see if the rain did any damage,” he called after her. “And we can finish our conversation about your new boyfriend’s intentions!”

  * * *

  Donovan couldn’t remember ever being so happy. Waking next to Gianna had spoiled him, everything about their time together confirming what he wanted for his future. Their future together. When they hadn’t been making love, they’d talked, some of the conversations mindless ramblings, others intense debates. And he’d painted, testing the waters for a retirement hobby. He’d approached the task with reservation until Gianna had pushed him to just let go and let whatever came to him be. The beginnings of a few projects had him excited to try again. And painting a trail of flowers across Gianna’s butt had excited him.

  Once or twice they’d simply fallen into the quiet, enjoying how the other breathed. It had been easy to be with her, and even when she had him dancing naked in the middle of his kitchen, a protruding erection bouncing in time to some dance tune, his comfort level had been at an all-time high. Gianna had a way of pushing him to let go and do things he would not necessarily do if left to his own devices. Her devil-may-care attitude had transcended his conservative one, and together they meshed nicely.

  He hadn’t wanted to take her home, and driving her back to the winery had been heartbreaking. They’d parted with a gentle kiss, Gianna promising to catch up with him the minute his day was through. Together they were electricity and fire, and with her gone he could feel the energy that filled him waiting to be reignited.

  The hour-long ride to the school allowed him to pull himself together, to seriously think about the two of them and where they might be headed. Gianna made his heart sing, and he was past ready to fully commit to her and the relationship. The dynamics of how they’d come together and their brief bump in the road spoke to where they both were in their lives and where they wanted to be. Both had been searching for something that was missing, something neither had any idea they’d needed. Until they found each other. They complemented each other, as both had been whole to start with. It was the perfect icing on some very sweet cake!

  Pulling into the school’s parking lot and exiting his car, Donovan practically skipped to the front door. He anticipated having a very good day, the excitement gleaming in his eyes. He wasn’t expecting Dr. Northway, the school’s director, to meet him at the door.

  “Dr. Northway, buongiorno!”

  The man nodded, a quick snap of his neck and head. “Dr. Boudreaux, if you’ll join me in my office, per favore.” His tone was brusque, almost abrasive, his expression stone-cold. He turned abruptly and headed down the hallway, expecting Donovan to follow behind him.

  As he did, Donovan suddenly got the distinct impression that his good mood was about to be shot to hell.

  * * *

  Gianna slammed her phone down against the desktop. She’d been trying to reach Donovan since lunchtime, and he hadn’t returned any of her calls. She’d been half tempted to ride down to his cottage, but she didn’t want to come across as that type of woman: obsessive, jealous and untrusting. Because she was none of those things, and never had been. And she didn’t want to think he was that kind of man, done once he’d bedded her. Because she knew he was better than that, but he hadn’t answered his phone or returned any of her calls since saying goodbye and wishing her a good day.

  Her intuition told her something was amiss, and she was worried because she knew in her heart Donovan would have wanted to talk with her as much as she wanted to speak with him. Something or someone was keeping Donovan from at least sending her a text message. From whispering the words he’d whispered in her ear over the weekend. From wanting her to know how much he loved and desired her.

  The weekend had been flawless. She’d given herself to him without hesitation, not an ounce of doubt about their commitment to each other. From day one, Donovan had said a
nd done all the right things. He’d been sweet and caring, wooing her slowly. His actions had mirrored his words, and she’d known beyond any and all doubts that he was the one for her. Their relationship was sheer perfection!

  Outside the air had cooled nicely, and the barest sliver of a moon hung in the dark sky. A gentle breeze blew through the open window behind her. Gianna jumped from her seat, feeling as if the winds had whispered to her. Something was wrong, and she had to figure out what it was. She would start at the cottage, she thought, and if he wasn’t there, she would drive to the university and make someone there let her in to search for him.

  Just as she reached for her coat and keys, there was a knock on her office door. Pulling it open, she was surprised to find her father standing on the other side.

  “Where are you off to?” he questioned, his eyes dropping to the keys in her hand.

  “I was going to go see Donovan. I haven’t been able to reach him.”

  Her father nodded. “Probably because your young man has been in the vineyard talking with me.”

  “He’s here?” Her eyes widened.

  Franco nodded. “He’s been here for a couple of hours now. I was outside when he drove up, and I could see something was on his mind, so I made him come help me check the vineyards. It gave me a chance to talk to him about his intentions.”

  Her eyes widened even more. “You didn’t?”

  Her father laughed. “I most certainly did. Now, I’m going to go grab a quick shower. Donovan is prepping the pasta. We should be ready to eat in about thirty minutes.”

  Gianna tossed her keys aside and dropped her coat to the floor. Her father was still laughing heartily as she pushed past him, headed for the kitchen.

  Donovan stood at the counter chopping vegetables. His brow was furrowed in thought as he sliced and diced tomatoes picked from her father’s gardens. Three large steaks were marinating in a glass dish, and a pot of water was just beginning to simmer for the fettuccine.