The American Contessa (10 page)

“Okay,
what?”
Odio
, was she actually saying
yes.

“Pizza.
 
Tonight.
 
Eight o’clock,” she replied turning towards the door to the Villa.

“I’ll
pick you up at Eight sharp,” he called after her.

Laughing
at him, she yelled back, “Considering, I live two rooms down from you, you’d
better
not
be late.”

She
could still hear him laughing as she ascended the staircase to her
bedroom.
 
From her window she could see
him still in the pool, floating on his back.
 

Gaby
bit her lip.
 
Flesh and blood he’d said.
Yeah, didn’t she know it.
 
Pity all that
flesh and blood was packaged in such an exasperating and irresistible way.
 
Easy girl!

*****

At
eight o’clock sharp Gaby heard the tapping on her door and opened it so quickly
that Luca looked somewhat stunned.
 
He
was wearing a casual white dress shirt and faded jeans, and looked for all the
world like a regular Joe out to pick up his girl for a date.
 

His
dark eyes ran over her form fitting floral halter neck dress, lingering on the
slight hint of cleavage she revealed.
 
It
was obvious he liked what he saw and Gaby couldn’t help but inwardly do a happy
dance.

“Hi,”
he said, unable to keep the smile from his face.

“Right
on time,” she smirked. “I do like a punctual man.”

“Great.
 
But be warned. I intend to make you like more
than my punctuality by the end of evening.”

Gaby
arched her brows at him.
 
“There’s an old
American saying that says “don’t count your chickens till they hatch.”
 
I advise you to do the same.”

 
“No,” Luca said adamantly.
 
“I won’t let you be negative about
tonight.
 
Repeat after me.
 
I’m going to have a wonderful evening …,”

“I’m
going to have a wonderful evening,” Gaby repeated with a grin.

“I’m
going to eat fantastic pizza …,”

“I’m
going to eat fantastic pizza,” she echoed.

“Then,
I’m going to eat the best gelato in Florence.”

Gaby
stopped short at that and bit back a laugh. After all the good natured joking
with Carmina about Luca being ‘gelato’, the double entendre in his words made
her giggle.

“What?”
 
Luca asked bewilderedly.
 
“You don’t like gelato?”

“Um
… it’s not that.”
 
Gaby could feel the
laughter bubble up in her.

 
“But Gaby, the gelato I’m going to feed you is
the most amazing you will ever have!”

Gaby
looked away in amusement.
 
“I don’t doubt
it.”

Descending
the stairs, they exited the Villa and Luca took her arm.
 
Leading her down the driveway towards the
front gate, Gaby turned to him, “No car?”

“No.
 
I thought we’d walk this evening.
 
How’s that for being normal?”

“Great
idea,” she beamed at him.

*****

The
pizzeria was a few blocks away from the Villa and after being seated at a cosy
table for two, they ordered two
Margerita
pizzas.
 
They were brought very
quickly to their table and they both dug in.

“Of
course, to have an authentic pizza, you have to have one in Napoli,” Luca
explained.
 
“They use all the same
ingredients up here in the North, but there must be something in the water down
in Napoli –it tastes so much better.”

“This
tastes fine to me,” Gaby said chewing a mouthful.
 
“But then, our pizzas are nothing like this
in America.”

Luca
said nothing and she couldn’t help but notice.
  
The American
thing
was rearing
its ugly head again.
  
Gaby needed to be
especially careful to not mention his mother specifically –she knew it was a
sore point that could set him off.
  
She
was sure that if she could just get him talking about it, it would help ease
the pain.
  
“It bothers you, doesn’t it?”

He
looked at her guardedly.
 
He knew Carmina
had filled her in on the family history and he felt at a complete disadvantage
and vulnerable as hell.
 
Did it bother
him now that she was American?
 
No.
 
Not really.
 
It disturbed him more that she’d be returning there all too soon for his
liking.

“It
bothers you.
 
The fact I’m American,” she
repeated again pointedly.

Playing
with his napkin, he couldn’t meet her eyes.
 
“It matters less to me than I thought it would,” he slowly
explained.
 
“I know that Carmina has told
you something about why I feel this way.”

Gaby
nodded.
 
“Yes, she did.”

Luca
looked up and held her gaze.
 
“I’ve felt
this way for so long, I’ve never really analyzed it or thought about it
rationally.
 
It’s not like I know a lot
of Americans.
 
Or, maybe my attitude
stems from knowing the wrong ones, like David Whittaker.”

Gaby
dropped her slice of
Margerita
down
on her plate.
 
“Oh please.
 
And here I was enjoying my pizza.”
 
She rolled her eyes then smiled at him.
 
“The mere thought of that man causes me indigestion.”

“I’m
glad.”
 

“What?
 
You’re glad he gives me indigestion?” she
laughed.

“No,”
he said softly. “I’m glad that you aren’t his.
 
I thought you were the first night I saw you.”

“Yes.
 
I remember what you thought the first night
you saw me,” she said caustically.
 
“The
less said about that night, the better.”

Taking
her hand in his, he started to caress her fingers intimately.

“Gaby,
I didn’t mean what I said that night.
 
If
I could take it back I would.
 
I said
those things because I … I wanted you ... badly.”

“You
have a funny way of showing it.
 
By
insulting me,” she replied flippantly, trying to make light of the desperate
need in his statement.

“I
know I hurt your feelings.
 
You see, I
didn’t
want
to want you.”

“You
didn’t want to … want me?”
 
Gaby mentally
smacked herself in the head in understanding. “Because you’re a
noble
Count and I’m a
crass
American?” she snapped.
 

He
looked away uncomfortably.

“That’s
it, isn’t it?
 
It goes against your grain
to want to be with someone like me.
 
You
must have been overjoyed that we came to this pizzeria tonight.
 
No chance of your high and mighty friends
seeing you here with me.
 
How degrading
for you if they found out you were spending time with someone so classless and lowly.”

He
answered her solemnly.
 
“You’re right,
they would think such things.
 
But if you
remember, I wanted to take you somewhere lavish and expensive.
 
The pizzeria was your idea.”

Gaby
started to rise from her seat and he held her hand firmly, not allowing her to
leave.
 
“No!” he said sternly.
 
“Sit.
 
Please.” She grudgingly did as he requested.

Luca
exhaled a long, exasperated breath and spoke softly.
 
“You think I care that I’m a Count and you’re
not some European debutante?
 
I may know
and socialize with a lot of upper-class people, but that doesn’t mean they’re
my friends and I care what they think.
 
Sometimes being a Count is more of a curse than a blessing.
 
Most women look at me and see a title and a
fortune.
 
They set their cap for me
without even knowing me or even liking me.
 
Or caring if I like them.”

“You
want me to feel sorry for you?
 
Oh, you
poor thing, women throw themselves at you,” Gaby interjected
sarcastically.
 
“I’m sure you’re hardly
lonely Count Manetti.”
 

He
let out a frustrated snort.
   
“So we’re
back to formality?”
 
When she didn’t
answer he continued, “You’re right of course.
 
I’ve used my title to get what I’ve wanted all my life; women
especially.
 
I’m not proud of it, but
I’ve never knowingly deceived any of them into thinking it was more than what
it was.
 
It was all very mutual and
emotionless.
 
I never really cared if
they liked me or not.”
 
He shrugged dejectedly.
 
“That is …, until you.”
 

Gaby
opened her mouth in doubt.

“Sure,
I have an unreasonable dislike for Americans,” he continued emphatically, “But
you could have been
Martian
for all I
cared.
 
The reason I didn’t want to want
you was because … because deep down I knew from the minute … no … the second I
saw you, that you … that you were the one woman who could hurt me like no
other.”
 

Processing
what he had just revealed, Gaby looked away from his forthright stare.
 
She had wanted him to talk to her, really
talk to her without all the hidden meanings and banter, and he’d more than met
her expectations with his revelation.

Swallowing
the hard lump in his throat, Luca hoped he hadn’t scared her by saying what he
had.
 
He hadn’t planned to let her know
the extent of his need for her, but now he had, he felt almost relieved.
 
Like a huge weight had been lifted from his
heart.
 
The ball was firmly in her court
to volley back or let go out.
 
Holding
her small hand in his, he held her gaze and smiled, “So can we forgive and
forget everything that’s happened until now and just be Luca and Gaby on a
date, having a pizza?”

Gaby
narrowed her eyes at him then smiled slightly.
 
“I guess I can forgive you,” she relented.
 
“And I guess I can forget you’re a Count for
the evening.”
 
She pointed at his
shirtfront.
 
“Especially with pizza sauce
all down your shirt,” she finished brightly.

“What?”
he exclaimed looking down.
 
“
Odio.
”
 
Grabbing his napkin, he started scrubbing at the spot.

“I
like it,” she said with a smirk.
 
“Makes
you seem more like a regular man.”

Giving
up and tossing the napkin on the table, he grinned back.
 
“That’s what I’ve been trying to tell
you.
 
I’m just a man, and you’re...
 
well, you’re just a woman.”

“Just
a woman?” she teased.

“Correction.”
His smile widened and he covered her hand again with his own, “You’re quite a
woman, Gabriella.
 
Quite unlike anyone I’ve
ever met ... or I think, shall ever meet.”
 

As
they stared into each other’s eyes, Luca became suddenly uneasy with the
intimacy of their conversation and extricated his hand from hers.
 
He was getting in way too deep.
 
Revealing his feelings was leaving him open
wide to be hurt in a way that was completely foreign to him.
 
He couldn’t take that chance.
 
He had to pull back.
 
He had to.
 

Gaby
wasn’t quite sure what to do or say.
 
They were getting closer, but now he was swiftly retreating.
 
Changing the subject she asked, “You’re
English is amazing, where were you educated?”
 
When he didn’t respond immediately, she rambled on, “I’m guessing the
U.K., as you speak with a decidedly English accent.”

“You’re
quite right.
 
I was schooled in
England.
 
Eton to be exact,” he stated
almost coolly.

“Good
school,” she uttered softly.
 
The
easiness between them seemed to evaporate before her eyes and Gaby didn’t know
how to stop it.
 

Shrugging
slightly, she decided to focus on the other half of her pizza still to be
eaten.
 
Her appetite was somewhat gone,
but without conversation, it appeared to be the only way to pass the
awkwardness of the moment. Picking it up, she was well aware of Luca’s watchful
eyes on her.
 
He was making her
incredibly nervous.
 
She took a big bite
of pizza.