Christmas Choices (13 page)

She sighed loudly as tears flowed down her face again.

“What’s wrong now?”

She glanced up at him. “I don’t jump into bed with men, Dante. I want a relationship with one person who loves me, someone I can share
my
life with, not someone who wants to share
our
life with others. I thought that maybe you were different. I thought you could care about me. You don’t. You only care about yourself.” Her eyes widened and she started to laugh. “Oh, you’re just like him. I chose two men, so different, yet so much alike.” She shook her head. “And here I thought you were this respectable, wonderful man who might gain my father’s approval.”

“Of course your father would approve of me. I have money, looks, and a standing in the art world. What’s not to approve?” He smiled, oblivious of his own conceit.

“Your arrogance, for one thing. He also wouldn’t approve of your womanizing. My father believes in monogamy, something you obviously don’t understand. What a fool I am to fall for pretty words and a pretty face. Serves me right, doesn’t it? Can you please just take me home now?”

“You Americans only see black and white, none of the lovely shades of gray. I should have known. I thought
you
were different.” He sighed and shook his head.

“I’m not as sophisticated as your Italian women. Take that as me being an American or unrefined, I don’t really care. This will never happen. I won’t subject myself to being your whore.”

Rhian hurried down the hallway to the bedroom, closed the door, and locked it. She quickly dressed in her clothes from the night before. All she wanted was to go back to the Villa.

Brushing her hair back into a low ponytail, she said a silent prayer for every woman unfortunate enough to be involved with Dante. Then she placed her hand on the doorknob, straightened her shoulders, and walked out the door with her head high.

He waited in the living room for her. “Mia bella, you could have chosen an outfit from the closet. I make sure there are many to choose from.”

Without looking at him, she hissed. “Dante, do not ever call me that again. Now take me back to the villa, please.” She walked out the door and stood by the car door.

Dante opened the door, extended his hand to help her in. Pushing past him, she avoided his touch. He shut the door and walked slowly over to the driver’s side of the car.

S
he could see him look over at her from time to time, his brows furrowed and his eyes narrowed. She didn’t care what he thought or that her actions made him visibly uncomfortable. Instead, she looked out the window and smirked; gratification from the unease she caused him surged through her.

When they finally pulled up to her villa, he parked and sat waiting for her to exit his car. She refused to look at him. “I’ll leave as soon as I can arrange for airline tickets. Of course, I’ll pay you for the time agreed upon. I would ask that you ship my paintings home for me. I don’t want to see you again.” She got out of the car and walked out of his life.

She closed the door behind her with a sigh. She had run from three men now. Her father who wanted to control her, Kellen because she had feelings for him and now Dante, who had fooled her with his pretty words.

She had no feelings for the Italian but had no doubt he would have been her father’s choice for her if not for the womanizing. Picking up the phone, she placed a call to the agency and arranged for her flight home. On the tabletop, her cell phone blinked with missed calls, voicemails, and multiple text messages.

She kicked off her shoes and walked out onto the patio to listen to the voice mail.

The first one was her grandfather. “Rhian, are you okay? I just wanted to check on you. I went by the café yesterday and talked with Denny and Kellen. They’re doing a great job. He knows his stuff. Seems like a nice fellow to me. Please call me when you get this. I love you.” Just hearing his voice made her smile.

The next one was from Denny. “Ms. Rhian. Oh, you ain't going to believe this.” She heard his booming laugh and had to smile. “Mr. Kellen has been askin’ about you. Your grandpa came by today and they was talking. It’s so funny.” Again, she heard the booming laugh. “Mr. Kellen doesn’t know he likes you yet. I see it, so does your grandpa. He’s gonna’ call you soon, Mr. Kellen that is. He says just to talk about the café. You talk to him now. It’s important I think. I hope you come home soon. Oh, this is me, Denny. I miss you. And don’t tell him I told you. I snuck his phone when he wasn’t looking.”

Rhian hit replay to listen to the message again. She knew Denny saw things; he had always been a good judge of people. Could he be right? Kellen had a history. Could he change? Might he be capable of loving her? After these last few days, she doubted men in general.

No, she would just live for herself right now, not for her father and grandfather. She had lived her life helping to fill the void when they lost their wives. Now she would stop worrying about what her father wanted. This was her life, not his.

She deleted the message and went to the next one. Her heart stilled for a second. “Rhian. Um, hello. It’s Kellen. Denny said you went somewhere in Italy to have some alone time. I hope you find what you’re looking for.” She heard the long sigh. “Anyway, I wanted to go over some things with you that Harry had questions about. If you wouldn’t mind, could you please call me when you have a chance? Thanks. Oh, just so you know... I miss you.”

She played the other messages only half-listening to them. The villa phone rang as she began reading the text messages. She answered, hoping it wasn’t Dante. “Hello?”

“Miss St. Claire, this is Tammy from the travel agency. I have your reservations. Are you ready for the information or do you have a fax number?”

“No fax. Please give me a minute to grab a pen and paper.” Rhian hurried into the kitchen, grabbed the notepad and pen she had placed there the first day she arrived. “Sorry, I’m ready.” She wrote down and verified the information for her flight back to Savannah. “Thank you, Tammy.”

“You are very welcome, Miss St. Claire. Thank you again for using our agency. Will you need any assistance with a rental car or pickup at the airport?”

“No, thank you so much. Goodbye, Tammy.”

“Goodbye, Miss St. Claire. Have a safe trip.”

Rhian walked back to her room and started packing to make sure she didn’t leave anything behind. She sent a text to Dante, let him know the flight information, and reminded him to ship her artwork after her departure. With two days left in this beautiful villa, she had every intention of using the time to her advantage.

Putting on her paint clothes, she moved her easel and canvas out onto the back patio. Today she would paint this view and remember her time here as a wonderful, although eye-opening, experience. Dante would be a distant memory that had taught her not to be taken in by pretty words or faces, but to see into the soul of a person.

She sat down on her stool and painted the landscape in front of her, working quickly with her heart and hands instead of trying to catch every detail with her eyes. Her feelings guided her hand as she put the brush to the canvas.

Much later, the sun set slowly behind the hills, casting an orange glow over the stones of the patio. Rhian stepped back from her canvas. Her breath caught in her chest. She looked from the canvas to the landscape and back again. “Wow.”

The painting captured not only the beauty of this place, but the peacefulness of the land as well. She had never been more pleased with a landscape. Stepping closer, she picked up her thinnest brush, signed, and dated the bottom of the artwork. “This one will hang in my living room,” she said proudly. Tomorrow, she would paint the front of the Villa as well.

She carried everything back into the foyer. As she cleaned up, her stomach growled.
I haven’t eaten all day.
She walked into the kitchen, made a light meal of fresh fruits and cheese, poured a small glass of white wine, and walked back out onto the porch. As the evening sky changed before her, something inside of her transformed as well. Rhian smiled and held her glass up. “Tomorrow begins my new life, my new beginning.”

R
hian woke to the early morning sun peeking through the curtains. Carrying her easel and supplies outside, she set them up in front of the villa. She loved the way the soft morning light danced over the stones. Squeezing dabs of color onto her pallet, she tried to catch the subtle nuances of the villa, the pots under the windows, and the ivy climbing up the front of the home.

Like yesterday, she lost herself in her work and was astonished at her accomplishment. She’d spent hours working without one thought about her father, Kellen, or Dante. She carried her things inside, laughing because she had forgotten to eat again. Rhian fixed herself a plate of fresh fruit, poured a cup of coffee, and carried everything onto the back porch. She started the ceramic heater and sighed. She knew she would miss this place.

If Dante honestly believed that he did not need someone to share his life with, someone to walk beside him and love him, he would be a lonely man.

Then there was Kellen. He acted so in control of his life, but she had seen something in his eyes. He looked lost, as if he was searching for someone he could open up to and trust. Could she be that person? Would he be worth the chance if she tried?

A memory of her grandmother invaded her thoughts. Closing her eyes, she went back to that day. They were in the kitchen and Rhian had asked her if she remembered when she had fallen in love with her grandfather.

A nostalgic look had come over her grandmother’s face as she placed her rolling pin down and took Rhian’s hand in hers. “I fell in love with him not too long after I saw him for the first time. He didn’t notice me right away.” She laughed. “He was a tough one, living the life of a single man and having fun. I chiseled away on that for a long time before I broke through his rough exterior. My goodness, what I found inside that gruff man. He was loving, kind, gentle, and just amazing.”

“You mean he didn’t love you back right away?” she remembered asking her grandmother.

“Oh, I think he did, but he hid it. He didn’t have an easy life growing up. Harry ran away from home at thirteen. He took care of himself from a young age and built a wall around himself so he wouldn’t get hurt. He had a hard time letting me in and admitting he had a soft side. But if you want something bad enough, and you think it is worth it, you don’t give up. So you see, my dear, I was right. I didn’t give up and found myself a real gem.”

Rhian opened her eyes and looked up at the sky, grateful for the memory. “Thanks, Grandmother. I love you.” She picked up her dishes and headed back inside to finish packing. Maybe she should get to know Kellen better.

She had just finished the dishes when there was a soft knock on the door. Dante stood there with roses in his hand.

“What do you want? I said I didn’t want to see you again.” She blocked the door so he couldn’t enter.

“Rhian, may I come in please? I just want to talk for a minute.” He moved the flowers toward her. “I brought you these.”

“Dante, you said enough the other day.” Seeing the apologetic look in his eyes, she reached for the bouquet not wanting to be a total bitch. “Thank you for the flowers. I’m leaving tomorrow.” She stepped aside so he could enter.

He followed her into the kitchen. “You want something to drink?” she asked, as she put the roses in a vase that sat on the counter. How many times had he brought roses to the women who rented this villa?

“I won’t stay long. I felt badly that I upset you. Most of the women I take home understand this lifestyle. They don’t expect more from me. I didn’t realize you would be so upset.”

She looked up at him. “I can’t imagine any woman would be okay with what you do. They may tell you they don’t care, that they are free and easy, but they are lying to you. Just like you are lying to yourself, Dante, when you say you don’t want a relationship. One day you will end up alone and sad.”

“Do you really believe in love, Rhian?” He leaned forward, gazing into her eyes as if searching for the truth.

“Yes, I believe in love and being with one person for however long you can. If that sounds corny to you, oh well.” She shrugged her shoulders and grinned at him.

“I’m glad you believe, bella. Someone needs to believe. My grandparents did, and they were together for many years. I just wanted to tell you again how sorry I am for hurting you.”

“You didn’t hurt me, not really. You opened my eyes and made me realize what I really want to do with my life.” She walked toward the entryway. “Now, if you don’t mind, I have to finish packing. Will you still ship my paintings for me?”

“Of course. I told you I would. Thank you for speaking with me. I will never forget you.” He took her hand and gently kissed it. “I hope you’ll come back one day and visit.”

“Maybe. I’ll make sure everything is ready for you to send to me. You can donate the paints and brushes to a school or something. All I want is my paintings.”

“Of course. Just leave the address where you want them shipped. I’ll make sure you get them in perfect condition. Take care of yourself.”

“You too, Dante. Goodbye.” Closing the door, she took a deep breath and felt a wonderful peace flow through her. Tomorrow, she would be on her way home and starting the first day of the rest of her life.

T
he next morning, Rhian woke excited to be going home. She hadn’t realized until now how much she'd missed her life in Savannah. The first thing she’d do was visit her grandfather.

The sun shone through the windows, and the day was so lovely, she believed her grandmother and mother were smiling down on her.

She made a final check of the closet and drawers. Just as she closed her suitcase, someone knocked on the front door, and she hurried to answer it. “Hello.”

“How are you today?” the driver asked, as he reached past her to grab her luggage.

“Excuse me, but I called for a taxi service. Who are you?” She shifted to stop him from picking up her things.