Desperate, her mother had called an hour before Reginas insemination appointment.
Youre making Constantin unhappy. Hes never gone quiet on me like this. Not in thirty years. Its summer. Take a vacation. When was the last time you took a vacation? Go to Italy. See your Nana before you do this crazy thing, eh, Cara.
Her mama always called her Cara, which was short for Carina, Reginas middle name.
You cant control everything, Cara. In Italy, people let life happen. Susana fell in love. You will, too.
Yes, with Joe. I was in love with him! Susana stole him right out from under me. Why doesnt anybody, especially you, Mama, ever remember that Joe was mine first?
Regina covered her eyes for a long moment. Then she opened them to a line of ceramic pots overflowing and ablaze with geraniums, to terraces and umbrellas drenched in coppery light, and to him.
Two girls beside him were batting their lashes at him and looking winsome, but he had eyes only for Regina.
He looked at her with such longing, Regina felt a physical ache to simply get up and go to him, to press herself against him, to run her fingers through his hair, to touch him everywhere. To get to it. To do it somewhere nearby, any private place.
She wanted to lie under his lean, hard body on a soft mattress with sea breezes whispering over their glued-together, sweaty bodies. She wanted everything, all things, unnamable things, unimagined things from him.
I dont know his name. He hasnt even spoken to me and I want to make love to him like an animal.
Still, she knew his voice was low and deep and thick with amusement, because shed heard him talking to the girls at the table next to his earlier.
In her real life across the Atlantic Ocean, she would have wanted to know where Adonis had gone to school, what were his life plans, who was his family. But this half-naked girl with the gardenia in her hair felt more than thought.
She was beginning to become a little scared. It was as if vital pieces of her being were rushing toward him and he was claiming all as his due. The hunger to be in his arms, to kiss him, to taste him, to know passion, real passion, maybe for the first time in her life, kept intensifying.
So, if he were a G-word guy, did that mean he could be hersfor a night? If she was willing to meet his price? Or did he just service a privileged few?
Blood rushed from her head.
But what about those eight precious vials of E-321s you-know-what stored at the sperm bank? What about E-321s picture and profile taped to her fridge? What about Lucybrilliant, well-meaning Lucyand their plan to raise their children together as siblings?
A sexy stranger was not for a health nut and control freak like Regina, either! She might catch something.
No. Something told her she wouldnt.
Maybe shed gone without sex for too long. Maybe it was the voluptuous, naked statues dotting the landscape and decorating the palazzos all over Italy that had her hormones hot to conceive the old-fashioned way.
Regina believed sex was for committed relationships and marriage. Period.
What about for procreation? whispered the hormones. Youre thirty-three and single and nearly too old.
You should be married, whispered another voice. All her life, Regina had been known for her brains, her old-fashioned morals, her perfectionism, her goal-setting abilities, and her quick decisions. What if she let herself go just this once?
Her lips parted. She nudged her skirt above her knee and waited for life to happen. How exactly did one go about hiring a gigolo anywayif he was a gigolo?
Was there some secret signal? Should she lift her skirt even higher? Or maybe lower her lashes and wink seductively? Or should she walk over to the bar, open her purse and show him the money? Or should she just sit here and wait for him to make the move, whatever that was?
Last night hed followed her into this same bar. Only, when hed started to flirt, shed run out and hidden behind some chestnut trees. Hed rushed outside and looked for her while shed held her breath, frantic hed find her. Finally, hed given up and kayaked out to Simonetta, the mega yacht moored some distance from shore, where he must have spent the night.
With a woman? A client? The older lady in veils? Her thoughts made Regina feel slightly nauseated.
One moment, the object of her affections was leaning back against the bar, sipping his beer while studying the magnificent white yacht with a rather keen interest. The next, his gaze swept the room and fastened on her again.
She met his eyes. With a fingertip, she teased her skirt higher. Her lips parted. Spellbound, dry-throated, she did not look away.
His gold necklace flashed with the last of the suns rays. A gift from a client? From the woman in the Ferrari? Or the one on the yacht? How many women were there? She had a prejudice against guys who wore gold necklaces.
Did one tip a gigolo? Would he tell her the rules? As an attorney, she had a natural interest in all contracts.
When he kept staring at her, the two girls giggled at the little table near his and then glanced at her, too knowingly. Doubtless, they were locals and knew his profession and read her intentions.
Was she that obvious?
When the girls frowned, Regina felt her cheeks heat and her pulse race.
Maybe she should rethink this. When she tried to stand up to leave, her legs felt too weak to hold her. She sagged against her table. Then her waiter scurried over with an icy flute of sparkling champagne. He said something in rapid, nasal Italian, which was beyond her minimal knowledge of the language and pointed to her admirer at the bar. When she looked over, Adonis shifted his weight onto his right leg and beamed.
Her heart sped up even faster, and her lacy pink panties trimmed in black lace began to feel damp. She should run out to the taxi stand and hire somebody to take her up to the palazzo where she was staying. She would take a cold shower or a long swim in the pool and then a sleeping pill. She needed to think this through, form a plan.
Instead, she touched the stem of the flute hed sent over with a manicured fingertip. When she threw back her head, her long brown hair flowing down her back, and began to sip, his mouth curved again. She smiled back just as boldly.
Instantly, he uncoiled his long body and strode across the bar, causing a ripple of conversation, as well as bursts of giggles from the girls near the bar. When he pulled out a plastic chair at Reginas table, Regina gulped the last of her champagne.
Do you mind if I sit down? His voice was deep and dark, faintly accented, surprisingly cultured. It was as perfect as the rest of him.
A well-educated gigolo?
II should say yes. I should goreally.
Probably you are right. He smiled. But youre following a dangerous impulse. He paused. Just as I am.
Her heart thundered.
Up close, his dense lashes seemed even longer and darker.
Why did God give guys eyelashes like those? It wasnt fair. But then, life wasnt fair, was it? Or she would be married and have children, and her father would still love her best.
Adoniss gorgeous, broad-shouldered body towered over Regina, making her feel even more vulnerable.
If you were to have a daughter by him, the lucky child would surely be movie-star beautiful, whispered her sex-starved hormones.
I will go, if you want me to, he said.
When he turned, a savage pain tore her heart. No.
If you were to have a daughter by him, the lucky child would surely be movie-star beautiful, whispered her sex-starved hormones.
I will go, if you want me to, he said.
When he turned, a savage pain tore her heart. No.
Her throat went even drier. Her acute need threw her off balance. She licked her lips but could say no more.
He sank down beside her and signaled the waiter. Without asking, he ordered more champagne.
Did he expect her to pay? Was that part of the contract?
When the champagne came, she gulped it again, which seemed to amuse him. Do I scare you?
I scare me. Ive never done anything like this before.
Good. Thats reassuring. He laughed. Youre perfectly safe, he said. I promise, we wont do anything you dont want to do.
Far too many needs and emotions were on fire inside her for such a comment to reassure her.
He held up his hand to order another drink, but she put her fingers over his. And instantly, at that light touch of fingertip to fingertip, a surge of syrupy heat flooded her. When the waiter looked over, she shook her head wildly.
Her admirer turned her fingers over and brushed the back of her hand with a callused fingertip. His touch was gentle; lighting hot sparks along every nerve in her body.
She felt weak, sexual, sizzling. All hed done was caress her hand. When he fingered the cross at her throat, she pulled back, afraid hed sense the rapid pulse that pounded beneath it.
Shed never experimented with drugs, because addiction hadnt been part of her plan for success. But now she suddenly understood the concept of mindless addiction at a profound level.
He was lethal.
No. He was just a professional. He knew what he was doing. That was all. He was good at his job. This was what he got paid for. Everything was under control. He wouldnt do anything unless she decided to hire him. He was after money. Billable hours. Like Bobby. That she understood. Too well.
It wasnt as if he felt what she felt. She was in no danger. She was in control.
She felt hot, and the cool breezes gusting up from the sparkling gulf did little to cool her.
Im Nico. Nico Romano, he whispered against her ear, stroking her hand with that seductive fingertip.
The way he said his name warmed her blood almost as much as his touch.
But was it his real name? Did gigolos have stage names as actors did or pseudonyms as writers did?
But then you probably know who I amor at least what I am, he said, his expression almost apologetic.
So she was righthe was a gigolo.
She blushed, liking his discretion about avoiding the G-word.
Yes. She glanced away.
Theres no reason to let it bother you. Im a man, just an ordinary man.
If you say so. She felt shy, unsure, out of her depth.
And you are? he continued.
Carina, she said in a rush, choosing her middle name for protection, to put distance between them. My mother calls me Cara. Everybody else calls me She stopped, realizing she was about to start babbling, something she did when she was nervous.
Cara, he breathed. In our country your name means beloved. It suits you.
The air between them seemed to grow even hotter, if that were possible. Or maybe it was only she who was ablaze.
He was good. But how much did someone of his caliber cost? Not in the mood to ask and discover his price excessive, she put the all-important question off.
Are you hungry? he murmured. Or would you prefer to go straight to your hotel?
Did having dinner with him cost more? And what would the staff of her palazzo think when they saw her with him in the restaurant? Did he go there often?
I ate a late lunch, she said.
So did I, he murmured.
He leaned closer. He slid one hand around her waist. His other hand lifted her fingertips to his sensually curved mouth, and he kissed each long nail and fingertip, lingering a little on the tips of her nails. Then he stared into her eyes. Everything he did was infinitely gentle. Somehow, nothing he did seemed faked or practiced, and long after hed let her fingers go, the pit of her stomach felt hollow.
When she lowered her hand to the ceramic table again, she sighed. Good. She wasnt ready for the serious kissing to start. Not in public, anyway.
He leaned closer and traced her mouth with his fingertip, flooding her with more erotic heat. His eyes followed the path of his finger. He swallowed hard. So did she. The girls, who were watching, giggled again.
Che bella, he whispered, scooting his chair back a little.
He wasnt subtle. But what had she expected? He was a gigolo. Not to mention Italian. This was a business relationship. She should applaud his talent and his professionalism. Instead, she was so caught up in what he was doing it was hard to remember this wasnt real.
He held up his hand for the check. Before she could rummage in her purse, he threw a wad of euros on the table, cupped her elbow and escorted her out of the bar. She was acutely aware that, when hed stood up, everybody stopped talking. Even the music stopped. When he turned at the door to wave to the bartender, a final burst of girlish giggles saluted them.
Hed paid, no doubt, for appearances sake.
He was one classy gigolo.
Remembering the Maserati, and the Ferrari and the yacht, Simonetta, where hed spent the night, she began to wonder if she had enough cash in her purse.
If she didnt, would he take a credit card or at least escort her to the nearest ATM if they finished at a late hour?
Then she remembered he was one classy gigolo.
Of course, he would!
Two
Regina stepped out of the shower, dried herself with a warm towel and put on the hotels thick, white fluffy robe as Nico had suggested. Her damp hair felt heavy and soft about her shoulders as she left the bathroom. Picking up her cell phone, she padded through the bedroom and then out onto her private belvedere to wait for Nico, who had left her suite to take a phone call.
Nico. She gulped in a breath of warm humid air. Trying not to think about him and what they were about to do, she looked down at the quaint town and its lush gardens. Nevertheless, her hands were shaking as she punched in her friend Lucys number back in Austin.
Surely, heaven couldnt best Ravello. The jewel-like, medieval village seemed to hang suspended from its mountainside over the Amalfi Coast. The views from Reginas hotel, formerly a fourteenth-century palazzo with crumbling, vine-covered walls and Moorish arches, were breathtaking even now when the shadows were lengthening.
Flowers perfumed the balmy sea breezes. The bees were gone, and the church bells were ringing. Cliffs and villas alike seemed to tumble to a dark, turquoise sea.
Not that she was all that interested in the white yachts or Simonetta or the sparkling water or even the palazzos. She was too consumed with excitement and fear.
Pick up, Lucy, she whispered, tapping a bare foot with impatience on the sun-warmed stones. She could hardly stand feeling so alone and uncertain.
Pick up!
Pacing while she waited, she spotted Nico four floors beneath her. He was also striding back and forth on a terrace near the aqua pool, looking just as impatient and upset as she felt.
Did he want to be with her, or did he hate his work and dread the time hed be spending with her? Or was it his conversation that had him on edge?