The Tuscan's Revenge Wedding (17 page)

Reaching out almost against her will, she ran a hand over
the other garments hanging in the wardrobe. They made a rainbow of color in
natural fabrics suited to the climate. Their style was simple yet with a casual
elegance that was infinitely appealing.

As ridiculous as it might be, she almost wished Nico had
chosen the clothing for her instead of merely giving orders to a personal
shopper. It would have been interesting to see what he might have selected,
mostly as an indication of how he saw her. Not that she cared, of course, but
he had such a well-defined style of his own that it could have been
instructive.

Any hope of relaxation vanished as she neared the pool. Nico
was already in the water. He was doing laps from the look of it, gliding up and
down at such a swift pace it exhausted her to look at him.

As she drew nearer he caught sight of her, for he swirled to
a stop. Treading water, he raked his hair back with one hand. “I would have
waited for you if I had known you would join me,” he called. “Come, dive in.”

She wanted to accept his invitation but hesitated, horribly
conscious of the inadequacy of the bikini under the sarong that she had tied
around her like a strapless dress. He was probably used to women parading
before him in even less, but she wasn’t that bold. She hoped he would return to
his laps, but he seemed uninterested. And the longer she waited, the more
obvious her reluctance to strip off to near nakedness in front of him must
appear.

Turning away, she dropped the beach towel she carried and
unfastened the knot between her breasts that held the sarong closed. She slid
it from around her and tossed it at a nearby lounge chair. Moving swiftly to
the pool’s edge, she launched into a fast, flat dive.

~ ~ ~

Nico ceased treading water. He stopped so
completely that he sank like a stone and had to kick his way back to the
surface again.

He had held Amanda Davies in his arms, had touched her as
intimately as possible without completing the act of love, but still had no
idea of the natural perfection of her body. She was not some anorexic sylph but
a woman with curves in all the right places, as pale and wholesome as fresh
milk and just as without artifice. She had not been enhanced and tucked to fit
some cosmetic surgeon’s artificial idea of beauty, but was beauty incarnate.

Nor had she strutted before him, displaying what she had for
his inspection. It suited him, that lack of vanity, while a part of him
recognized a fierce need to be the only man who ever gazed upon her. Primitive
instinct, of course, and completely unreasonable in this modern age, but he
could not deny it. And in that moment he wanted her with an ache that sliced so
deep he thought it might be a mortal wound.

Dio
, but he was losing it. It had been far too long
since he had been with a woman. If he wasn’t to fall upon his house guest like
a raving fiend, he needed to call one of the socialites he knew then plan to
spend a night away from the villa.

The problem was that no other woman he could bring to mind
had the least appeal.

It would be best if he did a few laps, or maybe few hundred.
The exercise should help return his unruly body to a decent state. That was, of
course, if the water didn’t start boiling around him.

His house guest was a competent swimmer, he saw as he put
his plan into action, not showy but with good form and steady strength. He
wondered how many hotel pools she had plowed up and down while traveling with
her father from one international race track to another, how many summer camps
she might have attended as she was shuttled out of the way.

That she had joined him in the water was a point in her
favor. Too many females of his acquaintance would have chosen to stretch out on
one of the lounges in a seductive pose while working on their tans, or else
avoided the sun under a protective umbrella.

Amanda was not used to constant pool exercise, however.
After only a few laps, she headed to the underwater steps and mounted them. Her
chest rose and fell as if she was trying to catch her breath as she leaned to
pick up the towel she had left on the paving. Seating herself on the pool’s
edge, she slicked back her hair from her face and dried her face and arms.

Watching her so minutely was precious little help in
controlling his hot urges. Nico realized. Without conscious thought, he swam to
where she sat and heaved himself up onto the pool curbing beside her.

“Better?” He slanted a glance at her set face as he borrowed
one end of her big beach towel to wipe his face.

“Than what?”

“Than before,” he said on a wry laugh for her stiff reply.
“Cooler, perhaps.”

“You should know.”

The glance she gave him skimmed his neck to his knees, and
seemed to scorch wherever it touched. How could she do this to him without the
least sign of effort? Yes and when no one else had ever come close?

“At least it persuaded you to make some use of the things
provided you.”

She busied herself drying the back of her neck under her
hair. “I should thank whoever thought to add bathing suits.”

He flicked a quick glance over her and could not prevent a
smile. “What you have on looks just as I thought it would — and is exactly what
I’d have expected you to choose from what was sent.”

She paused, meeting his gaze with a lifted brow. “You chose
this bikini?”

“I told the buyer what I thought would be suitable, rather,
and she described it.”

“And the rest?”

“Much the same.” He lifted a brow in near affront. “Is
something wrong? Do you dislike what was selected?”

“No, no,” she said at once. “I just didn’t realize you had
gone to so much trouble, didn’t expect it when I’m no one, certainly not one of
your—”

The wild color that flooded her face was a secret delight.
“One of my women, you meant to say?”

“Your family, rather, your aunt, your grandmother, Carita or
Carisa,” she said hastily.

“Of course,” he took her up at once, his tone saying the
exact opposite. That she knew it was plain from the sparks that went off like
fireworks in her eyes. “But I assure you it was no trouble at all.”

“You—”

“
Si
?” he said in soft challenge as she paused.

“Nothing.” She looked away. “Speaking of Carisa, I hope she
wasn’t too upset.”

“Not on the surface, but I fear she may be brooding about
it.”

“You can hardly blame her.”

He lifted a shoulder as he frowned at the far side of the
pool. “I thought to spare her the worry.”

“At least she won’t feel left in the dark.”

“No.”

“If you brought her photos of Carita—”

“That’s been arranged for some point in the next few days,
when she finally wakes from her coma. Her doctors feel it’s only a matter of
time.”

Nico wondered briefly if Amanda had any idea what a concession
it was, his bowing to her suggestion, her judgment. She seemed to have an
affinity for Carisa, a better understanding than most. She was also female, and
he trusted it might give her an edge in knowing what was best for his sister.
He had no other reason. Certainly not.

“Now that Carisa is aware of what’s going on, will you have
Carita brought here?”

“Here, to the villa?”

“Not right away, of course, but later, for her
convalescence, when they are positive she’s out of danger.”

“She’s well looked after where she is.”

Her gaze was troubled as she met his. “You could always
bring in nurses and the special equipment she might need. Carisa could see her
so be easy in her mind. And Carita may well do better in familiar surroundings,
with people she knows and loves around her.”

“Including your brother, who would be better here as well, I
suppose.”

“He is devoted to Carita, so it might be beneficial,” she
answered, her voice not quite steady. “But no, I would not — we would not
impose in that way. Naturally, Jonathan and I will return to the States as soon
as he’s able to travel.”

He gave a short laugh. “I don’t know why you think he’ll go
when he has been living in Italy.”

“I thought he was having an extended vacation.”

“I’m told he had taken an apartment in La Spezia.”

Her gaze was clouded as she met his. “Something else you
learned while having him investigated, I suppose.”

“As you say.”

She shook her hair back as she looked away again. “He will
need help for some time. If he returns with me, I’ll be able to look after him.
You aren’t the only one concerned about family, you know.”

She had certainly demonstrated that much, he admitted with a
wry twist of his lips as he recalled how she had abandoned everything to come
with him. Would she show the same concern for an injured lover or a husband?

He and Amanda were much alike, he had to concede. Beyond
their concern for their siblings they had both lost their parents in one way or
another, both had assumed responsibility at a young age, both had avoided other
entanglements.

And both had high standards they could not abandon.

~ ~ ~

Amanda could barely concentrate on what
Nico was saying as she gripped one end of her towel that he was using to dry
his arms. She would not release it entirely because the last thing she wanted
was to sit there so close beside him while virtually naked.

She wished he had a towel of his own instead of sharing
hers, for the miniscule black Speedo he wore seemed to emphasize his own near
nakedness. The small, wing shape of it almost disappeared as he sat beside her.

His muscled arms and shoulders were like a statue in bronze;
his thighs with their light coating of hair were tautly powerful. When he dried
his face and arms and moved to the water droplets that spangled the hair on his
chest, she felt her mouth go dry. That kite-shape of hair sprang into whorls
and curls that appeared feathery soft. The need to touch them, smooth them, dry
them was so strong she clutched the towel to prevent herself from reaching out
to him.

A single drop of water trailed southward, following the line
of dark hair that ran over his abdomen and the flat surface of his stomach. Her
eyes burned as she followed its tortuous progress until it was absorbed into
black fabric.

“You may be right that Carita would benefit from your
brother’s presence. I am told her vital signs were stronger after he was with
her this morning. If I should decide to move her, he could come here for a few
weeks.”

She lifted her gaze to his face, unable to accept what she’d
heard until she could look into the hot coffee blackness of his eyes. “Are you
saying that you no longer object to his visiting her?”

“I am not so foolish as to argue with success. Carita’s
health is more important at the moment than my reservations about his place in
her life. Whether it should be permanent is something that will have to wait
until later.”

“In other words, Jonathan can remain as long as he serves a
useful purpose. Then he will have to go.” She went so quickly from wanting to
stroke him to a strong need to hit him that she felt physically ill.

“You twist my words into something I didn’t intend. My
English is not always—”

“Your English is perfect. I am quite clear on what you meant
to say. You will decide later whether my brother is suitable, in spite of the
baby and regardless of how he or your sister feels about it. Yes, or how much
he gets hurt.”

“It may be Carita who will be hurt more than she can bear.
Yes, or Carisa, if you and your brother are here long enough for her to become
attached to either of you. She doesn’t get over these affections easily. When
you go away, she will grieve for you.”

She saw his point, really she did, but was in no mood to be
reasonable. “In that case, I don’t know why you brought me here. And I
certainly don’t see why you would suggest my brother and I should stay.”

“Nor do I,” he said while the darkness of his eyes turned
opaque, concealing every thought and emotion. “Nor do I.”

He didn’t want her at the villa, not really, was sorry he
had introduced her to his family. The pain of it was a hard lump that closed
off her throat, making it hard to breathe. She abandoned her towel in his hands
as she climbed to her feet. Whirling from him, she lifted her sarong from the
lounge where she had left it and headed for the villa.

“Amanda! Wait!”

She heard but didn’t answer. Without breaking stride, she
swirled the sarong around her and fastened it with swift, hard jerks. She
almost ran up the steps of the terrace, plunged into the dim coolness of the
villa. She did not stop until she was back in her room with the door closed
behind her.

In the
en suite
bathroom, she stripped off the bikini
and stepped into the shower. Holding her face up to the rain-like flood of
water, she let it sluice over her, allowing recognition of the mistakes she’d
made wash over her as well.

She had known better than to stay at the villa, should never
have drifted into agreeing. All the rest of it, the fake engagement, the close
contact with Nico that had made her so dependent on him, learning the drugging
sweetness of his kiss, would never have happened if she had followed her first
instinct.

None of it would have happened…

No, and nothing good would come of prolonging the
experience. The longer she stayed, the harder it would be to leave. The last
thing she wanted was to become so needy that she clung until told to go.

The sooner she was well away, the better off she’d be.
Facing the truth of that made her throat ache. Her eyes burned as if they had
salt water in them, but she refused to cry.

Leaving the shower, she struggled into her lightweight
traveling robe while still damp, belting it loosely around her. In her sudden
urge to get away, she didn’t bother to comb out her wet hair but pushed it back
from her face. Taking her carryon bag from the closet, she flung it on the bed
and began to throw her underclothing and few cosmetics into it with quick,
jerky movements.