Champagne Deception (10 page)

“I’m warning you, Fiatti,” Declan clenched his teeth, “If you dare to
purchase this gallery, I will make sure it gets enough bad publicity to shut down within a week of opening!”

“That’s it, get out of here!  Nobody threatens me, least of all a washed up artist who can’t even manage to sell one painting a month!” Lorenzo shouted, balling his hands into fists.

“You fool, you can’t throw me out of here!  You don’t even own the place yet!  It’s still up for bids, and don’t go crying to Mamma Fiatti when I outbid you!”

Lorenzo’s face pumped with vermilion blood at the disrespectful mention of his mother.  Venomously, he retorted, “You don’t have
half the money to buy this place!” Mastering his temper, he added sarcastically, “But come to the grand opening.  Maybe we’ll let you have a free glass of champagne to toast our success.”

Murderously
staring the couple down, Declan pounded up the staircase and strode furiously out of the building.  With building concern, Coretta turned to Lorenzo and placed a tentative hand on this shoulder.  He flinched, still incensed from the confrontation with Declan.  Self-consciously, she recoiled her hand as he gave her an apologetic look.

“I didn’t mean to pull away like that, Coretta.  I’m just so furious right now.  That ass has been trying to destroy my studio for years.”
Lorenzo’s usual sunny disposition transformed dramatically into a brooding temper.

“No, it’s okay.  I don’t blame you for being upset.  Lorenzo, do you think Declan has anything to do with the weird things that have been happening to us since I got to Italy?” She posed the question bluntly as his frown deepened with pensiveness.

“For his sake, I hope not.  I don’t know who the hell he thinks he is coming to Italy from a foreign country and expecting to run the show.  He’s just bitter because his investments haven’t produced any returns for him.  He came here with a good amount of funds, but he’s lost almost everything in his money pit of an art gallery,” Lorenzo scoffed, his face still tomato red.  “You know what really bothers me?  I’ve worked so hard for this.  My parents were peasants in Sicily before they moved to Milan to open up a flower shop.  My father worked hard his whole life, just like I’ve tried to do.  But Declan comes from old money.  He’s a spoiled ass.”

Coretta favored Lorenzo with a look of respect.  “I had no idea your parents
worked so hard.  That’s very admirable.”

“Yes, we’re going to have to sit down to some more wine and dinner so we can learn everything about each other,” Lorenzo said, his mood lifting at the thought of another cozy evening with Coretta.

Shyly, she touched his rough cheek, hoping to ease some of the tension in his handsome face.  This time, he received her touch eagerly, placing his hand over her own and moving her fingers to his lips.  Excitement coursed through her to feel the contrast of the pebbly stubble on his face and the soft fullness of his lips.  Soon, he was kissing her again, this time a more savage fusion that communicated his desire for deeper contact.  She clung to him and reciprocated the kiss with more hunger than she had unleashed in countless years.  All this searing heat had been bottled up inside of her during the long, monotonous relationship with Jonathan.  But now, in the most unromantic setting possible---a stinky cellar---the heat was rising until her internal thermometer felt ready to rupture.

To her frustration, he again broke off this kiss.  This time, though,
her effects on him were clear in his harsh breathing and dilated green eyes.  Every male urge he possessed bellowed at him to carry her upstairs and make love to her right there on the hardwood floor.  But, remembering his secret vow to take things slowly with Coretta, he glued his eyes to her face, not daring to look down at her enticing curves that tormented his will power.

“Let’s go upstairs,” he said unevenly.  “I want to meet with my real estate agent and bid on this place before Declan has a chance to do anything spiteful.”

Masking her disappointment with a stony face, she simply nodded her assent.  Silently, they climbed the stairs, as she forced herself to remain composed and not needle him about why he kept snuffing out the flame of their mutual attraction.  Lorenzo Fiatti was as much a mystery to her as all the unsettling events that had unfolded since her fateful arrival in Milan.

Chapter Nine

Back at the villa, Lorenzo was combing over dozens of documents for his pending purchase of the gallery.  After meeting with the real estate agent
, he and Coretta had zipped back to the house on the motor scooter.  Since arriving home, though, Coretta had remained upstairs in his bedroom.  He took off his glasses, rubbing his weary eyes and fighting the temptation to dash upstairs and join Coretta in the chamber.  And maybe join her in the Jacuzzi…

Abruptly, he swept the papers off the table and strode across the room to pour himself a glass of wine.  Ignoring his natural instincts was not something Lorenzo had ever tried to do before, and it was harder than he would have imagined.  Maybe if Coretta were staying in a hotel, it would be easier.  But knowing that tonight---and every night in the
foreseeable future---she would be a short walk down the hall in his bedroom was more than he could handle.

Softly, feminine footsteps emerged on the staircase as Coretta entered the room.  Her hair was in fetching disarray, as though she had just awoken from a nap.  She donned a plain cotton dress that hugged her curves, and her lovely face was free of make-up.  Lorenzo sucked in a breath as she approached him.

“May I join you?” She asked with deliberate formality.

“Of course,” he replied tersely, pouring a glass of wine for her.

“Have you signed the documents yet?”

So now, she’s
all business
, Lorenzo thought in mounting frustration.  Well, he had no one to blame but himself.  For all the times he had pushed Coretta away in the past couple of days, she probably thought he didn’t want her when in fact the diametric opposite was true…

“Not yet, but I do plan to go ahead with the transaction.” He set his wine glass down on a coaster, imitating her formal demeanor.  “We can check the storage unit tomorrow to see if your paintings have arrived.  Then we can start moving everything in for our opening reception.”

Coretta’s eyes lit up briefly.  “Oh good!  This is so exciting.”

Lorenzo lifted his glass and took a great gulp of the potent wine.  “If you’ll excuse me, I’m going to read over the papers a second time just to make sure everything is in order.”

Crestfallen, she accepted his dismissal, taking her glass of wine and going back upstairs to his bedroom.  The subsequent slamming of the bedroom door reverberated throughout the house.  Lorenzo threw his spectacles on the table and banged the wine glass down.  This had gone too far.  He no longer cared that she had just arrived on Saturday and today was Monday.  They had met ten years ago for goodness sake.  They weren’t strangers.  Tonight, they definitely weren’t going to be strangers.

*****

As the mirror rattled and the windowpanes shook, Coretta immediately regretted slamming the door.  She was a guest in this man’s house, after all.  What had come over her acting like a spoiled baby?  She had been out of the dating arena for so long that apparently she didn’t know how to behave.  The
delicate back and forth tennis game of a new relationship was more foreign to her than Italy.  She couldn’t let her ego, bruised from years under the thumb of an inconsiderate boyfriend, jeopardize a possible relationship between her and Lorenzo.

“Relationship!” She scoffed out loud.  “What the hell am I thinking?  I just got here and---“

“Are you talking to yourself, Coretta?” Lorenzo asked with amusement.

Mortified, she snapped her mouth shut and shook her head in denial.

“Then who were you talking to?” He persisted, his amusement deepening.

At the moment, she didn’t care that she had embarrassed herself.  The sight of Lorenzo’s dimpled smile and twinkling eyes was too charming for her to think of anything else.  He took a few slow steps closer until he was towering over her and gazing directly into her eyes.  She shifted nervously on either foot, wondering what had caused his sudden change in temperament.  A minute ago, he was downstairs poring over dull
paperwork and now he was in the bedroom…kissing her…

The kiss startled her as it was swifter and fiercer than any they had shared so far.  He pulled her against his taut frame, luxuriating in the feel of her curves inside the feminine
but simple cotton frock.  As his tongue flickered against hers, she relished the bold flavor of Tuscan wine mixed with the unique taste of his lips.  As he lifted her into his arms and lay her in the center of his bed, she felt lighter than air, magically transported by a man with Atlas strength.

Their lips still fused, Lorenzo slid his hands under her dress, fondling her bare thighs and finding the lace of her panties.  She stiffened for a moment when he caressed her on the rim
s of that secret canyon.  This time, the kiss would not end.  This time, tonight, they would unwrap each other like gifts and bare all their mysteries.

Coretta watched dazedly as Lorenzo tore his shirt
off followed by his pants and boxer shorts.  Standing proudly naked before her, he looked like the glorious David sculpture.

“Did they let David out of the Galleria in Florence?” She murmured as he laughed heartily.

The laughter faded a heartbeat later as he turned her over onto her belly so he could unzip her cotton dress and glide it off her body.  Her lacy undergarments slipped away as he flipped her over and settled on top of her for the first delicious feel of skin to skin contact.  Like brushfire, their desires blazed and demanded a ferocious joining.  Sensations tore through Coretta with each rhythmic movement of their bodies.  She twined her fingers in his hair and yanked, tossing her head to the side and pressing up even closer so her breasts crushed against his pectoral muscles.

Lorenzo was as lost as she was, his face dripping less than subtle sweat and his movements sharp and desperate.  A few times, he forced himself to stop, not wanting to selfishly take his own pleasure until he was certain she had experienced hers.  When finally her sweet moans and glazed eyes told him she had pinnacled, he released a torrent of passion before falling against her.

He lay his head over her heart, not making any other effort to move.  She absently caressed his head, still riding the wave of oblivion and incapable of stringing together even a simple thought.  They lay together until their breathing calmed into a soft whisper mingling with the twilight breeze.

*****

It was the middle of the night.  The utter stillness of the villa revealed itself as the darkest phase beyond midnight.  Coretta stirred after an extended nap with Lorenzo sprawled atop her.  To her surprise, he was still asleep, still curled up against her heart.  Her legs felt disturbingly numb, and she nudged him out of his sleep.

“Hmmm?” He grunted.  “How long have we been sleeping?”

“A long time,” she whispered as he lifted himself off her body and reclined beside her.

“I didn’t mean for that to happen.  Well, I did when I came up here, but I didn’t want to be so impatient,” he grumbled, seeming angry with himself.

“I don’t regret it,” she said firmly.  “And I was pretty impatient too.”

He chuckled, settling back against a pillow and yawning.  She carved out a space for herself on the bed and stretched contentedly as sensation seeped back into her legs.  Within minutes, they were both asleep again.

Morning brought a brisk rain shower and stubbornly cloudy skies.  The shrill sound of Lorenzo’s cell phone woke them both with a start.  Keeping his eyes closed, he fumbled on the nightstand for the phone, knocking it over and cursing softly.  Reluctantly, he crawled out of bed and retrieved the phone, answering it gruffly.

Coretta listened to the animated Italian conversation, giggling to herself as Lorenzo complained about being disturbed so early in the morning.  It was 10 am, and already half the morning was gone.  But after their vigorous activities last night, they both
felt fatigued enough to sleep the day away.  The conversation soon became too rapid and colloquial for Coretta to understand, so she tuned it out and drifted into a light sleep.

A few moments later, Lorenzo was next to her in the bed again, spooning her affectionately.  She fluttered her eyelashes but refused to wake up.  Instead, she let the soft raindrops lull her back to sleep.

“Coretta,” he whispered against the back of her neck.

“Mmmmm,” she murmured
, not wanting to emerge from this tranquil bliss.

“
I have to talk to you about something,” he said, planting a kiss on the nape of her neck.

Now, he had her attention.  The tone of his voice was foreboding, and she whirled around to face him and hear what he had to say.  He caressed her face and swept his hands over stray tendrils of her chestnut hair.  She waited expectantly for him to talk, but he seemed too enraptured in her for words.  Passionately, he drew her into the warm, solid folds of his body, awakening every one of her senses with a taste, a touch, a murmur.  Her sixth sense told
her he had some unpleasant news to convey, but she let her other senses take over as he fondled her curves from breast to thigh.