LOVE on The Horizon (Breaking The Rules #1) (15 page)

Ricky was as prompt as ever when he called us the next day. We were strolling through the piazza when he barked orders to get back to the hotel and wait for his Skype call.

“Much better,” he said, smiling on his side of the laptop. “So, fill me in. What’s the plan?”

“Well, we are going to stay here for a few days and enjoy Rome. Then I decided to take our time driving up the coast. I want to show her as much as possible before reaching Florence.”

Ricky nodded his approval. “Good plan. You both could use some R&R, especially before you get to the crazy Puglia house,” he quipped with an exaggerated eye-roll. He leaned closer to the screen, narrowing his eyes as he inspected our smiling faces. “It sure looks like you are both very well ‘rested.’” He offered his opinion using air quotes.

“
La vita
è
buona
,” I said, turning toward Rebecca with a smile.

“Yes, I’m sure it is. Just make sure she doesn’t end up with a bladder infection. I’ve heard that can happen to girls having too much sex. That would ruin your romantic drive up the coast—having to stop to pee every five minutes would not be fun. Do they know you’re coming yet?”

“No,” I responded a bit too quickly and a bit too forcefully. Rebecca swung her eyes my way, narrowing them as she did.

“So, you’re just going to show up with your new love?”

“Something like that,” I replied quickly. I may have a game plan for getting us to Florence, but only the Lord knew how it would go down once we arrived. It could go one of two ways. Either, they’d love her and accept that I threw away my career—the very one they’d fought me on tooth and nail—out the window for her…or, they’d flip out. “Is your hair blonder?” I asked in a deliberate attempt to change the subject.

“Yes. Thank you for noticing. I wasn’t sure about it, but I think it suits me.”

“Ricky?”

“Yes, doll?”

“I miss you,” she said with a smile.

He dropped the frown and smiled instantly. “Aww, I miss you too, angel. So, I’ve been busy. My date was an absolute disaster. I was back in my hotel room an hour later, giving me time to get down to business and start making some phone calls.”

“To?”

“First was good old Mom. She was thrilled with our idea and said to count her in.” Ricky was very close to his mother. His dad left them very wealthy, and she never denied her only son anything he asked.

Ricky continued talking a mile a minute. “I also made a list of anyone else I knew who would be up for our new venture. Marco, make sure you ask your cousin, Gianni. He’s always into taking risks with his fortune. So, between investors, our funds, and a mortgage, that puts us in the market for a
superyacht
. I found an O’Mega beauty, three hundred and thirty feet. Really lovely, I’ll send you the link. She can accommodate twenty passengers in ten luxury cabins with a crew of thirty. She was built in 2004 and has been on sale for a while. Hopefully, the owner is desperate.”

“She’s older but a nice size. Registered where?”

“Fort Lauderdale, but current position is Grand Cayman, so I can’t go see her in person yet.”

“How much?”

“One ten mill.”

I cut my eyes to Rebecca in time to see hers bulge. Taking her hand, I gave it a squeeze to remind her of our conversation the day before. “Okay, we can probably get them down to ninety-nine. The market is soft, maybe even ninety-five,” I said to Ricky, keeping a tight hold on Rebecca’s hand.

“I was thinking the same. I’ll keep making calls so we have a better idea what size business loan we’re dealing with.”

“Sounds good. Thanks for doing the grunt work, Ricky. I appreciate it.”

“My part is easy compared to yours. If I could be a fly on the wall when you tell them…”

“Who?” Rebecca interrupted for the first time, her gaze focused on the side of my face.

“His nutso family, that’s who,” Ricky responded before I had a chance to. “You’ll see.”

“Ricky,
silenzio
.” I turned to face her. “Don’t listen to him.”

She nodded in agreement, but her eyes told a very different story. If I could reach through the laptop and strangle him, I would.

Unfazed, he continued, “Doll, worse comes to worst, leave in the middle of the night when they’ll all be sleeping.”

Her mouth gaped open, and Ricky shrugged.

“Ricky.”

“She needs to be warned, Marco. You’ll sugarcoat it. You always defend them.”

He was right in that she did need to be warned. My parents were loud, overbearing, and very protective of their only son, and my two older sisters were even worse than them.

“I planned on briefing her before we got there, Ricky. You’re lucky you are thousands of miles away right now, you pain in the ass.”

“You tend to procrastinate. I’m only keeping you on task. Having Rebecca forewarned will benefit you once you get there.”

“I intended to forewarn Rebecca,” I repeated, completely losing my patience with him.

“Okay, then, you’re welcome.” Being annoyed with Ricky was a waste of time because he simply couldn’t care less.

“Anything else?”

“Nope. Same time tomorrow?”

“Let’s do it later. You’re cutting into our day at this hour.”

Ricky’s mouth gaped open comically. “Well, excuse me. Not everyone is traipsing around Rome in the middle of the day.”

Chuckling, I added, “Says the man who’s been lying on a beach. Bye-bye.”

I slammed the laptop closed on the image of Ricky with his tongue sticking out. Rebecca grinning beside me helped to slightly ease my apprehension over the last part of our conversation.

“I swear I was going to prepare you.”

“I believe you. They’re going to hate me, aren’t they?”

“Of course not, they’ll love you.” By pursing her lips and tilting her head, she challenged me to amend. “Okay, once they get to know you, they’ll love you.
Bella
, there’s nothing to worry about.”

“Um, yes, there is!” Nerves took hold, causing her to stand and begin pacing while ticking her fears off one by one on her fingers. “One, I don’t speak their language. Two, I’m arriving with their only son and they have no idea I’m even in the picture, and three…” She turned to face me with a panic-stricken look on her face. “You’re asking them for a huge chunk of money to pursue a crazy dream with a girl from New Jersey whom you lost your job for. Four, said girl doesn’t even have any funds to contribute to this crazy dream. Does that sum it up?”

“There’s that word again. You are not allowed to use the word
contribute
from here on out.” She folded her arms defiantly as she glared at me. “Rebecca, their reaction to you won’t affect anything. Ricky’s right in his comment that I shouldn’t sugarcoat what to expect, but I don’t care.”

“How can you not care?”

“Easily.” I walked over to where she remained rooted. Ticking off my own list of reasons on my fingers, I said, “First, they do speak English, kind of. Second, I’ve always done what I want, when I want. Do you think they wanted their son to be a cruise director instead of joining my father’s business?” I didn’t wait for her to respond, adding, “No, they didn’t. Third, it’s
my
money, not theirs. Fourth, I found the love of my life, and you’re in my life whether they like it or not. And lastly…” I pulled her into my embrace and kissed her lips chastely. “You are not just a girl from New Jersey with nothing to contribute. I hope you’ll be my wife someday, the mother of my children. It’s you and me, end of story.
Capisce
?”

“
Sì
.” She smirked adorably.

“Good. Come shower with me so I can take you to a lovely dinner.”

“It’s just past three, and I’m still full from lunch.”

“It’s going to be a very long shower.”

We spent three fabulous days in Rome, eating, sightseeing, and making love. I answered all her questions regarding my family, and I tried to ease her mind that their opinions wouldn’t influence me in any way. I wasn’t sure she was buying it, but she’d thankfully dropped it after hearing my explanations.

Part of me thought it might be a good idea to call them before we arrived, but I quickly dismissed that option. Giving them time to build arguments never fared well.

In spite of all that, I had never been happier in my life. Being with Rebecca every minute of every day was an absolute slice of heaven on earth. It was amazing how completely compatible and in tune we were with each other. It felt like we’d known each other for years and not merely months…and it didn’t seem odd at all how quickly it all happened for us. I guess when a connection that strong occurs from the onset, everything moves forward at an accelerated pace.

When I shared my theory with her, she agreed wholeheartedly. She then giggled and asked if, whenever I pondered something, did I do so in my head in English or Italian.

“Italian, of course,
”
I quipped before crushing my lips to hers.

While waiting for her, I zipped up my tiny duffel bag that held the few articles of clothing I purchased since arriving in Rome. Glancing up just as she walked out of the bathroom, her outfit stopped me in my tracks. “
Dio mio
.”

“What?” she asked, looking down at herself.

“You look gorgeous, so European.”

She giggled before asking, “Does it look like I’m trying too hard?”

Closing the distance, I pulled her into my arms. “Definitely not.”

The sunglasses she chose, the colorful silk scarf I bought her loosely tied around her hair, even the tailored slacks and blouse she wore all screamed Italian elegance.

“You said you wanted to rent a convertible, thus the scarf.”

“Perfection.” I kissed her long and hard and forced myself to break it before it turned into more. “We have to go, now…or we’ll miss checkout if I keep kissing you. I also need to buy more clothes.”

“Where are yours?” she asked, her eyes landing on my tiny leather bag. “We’ve been naked so much I just realized you’ve worn that before.”

“I kind of made the decision to stay in Rome after my luggage already continued to Florence without me.”

“Got it,” she said with a wide smile. “Checkout, shopping, and then we’re off. I’m ready.”

After grabbing her suitcase and my bag, I led her out of the suite where we had shared an amazing time together. I’d have to come back here with her someday, just to relive some of our awesome memories.

As I filled out the paperwork at the rental car office, she circled my car choice with an amused smirk. I walked toward her and skimmed my hand along the hood of the beauty I had just rented. “Nice, right?”

“What is it?”

“It’s an Alfa Romeo 4C, baby.”

“It looks like the Batmobile.”

“Batman wishes he drove this.” I opened the door for her and she slid into the black leather seat. Seeing her in that car was seriously a major turn-on. The only thing better would be her naked in that car.

Quickly trotting to the driver’s side, I got in just as she said, “Wow.” While running a hand over the leather, she added, “I’ve never felt anything softer.”

“Imagine what it would feel like if we made love in here?”

Her brows poked up from behind her sunglasses and a slow smile spread over her lips. “
If?
”

“My mistake. I meant
when
.”

It took us seven days to make the journey that would normally take less than seven hours. We hugged the coast from Rome to Pisa and then drove right through the heart of Tuscany to Florence.

Seeing the countryside and the ocean from the front seat of Marco’s hot little rental car was an experience I’d never forget. He showed me sunrises, sunsets, and romantic, sleepy beach towns that looked like they were right out of an Italian romance movie.

Each time I claimed what he fed me was the best thing I’d ever tasted, he’d prove me wrong at the next meal. I picked up a beautiful leather-bound journal in chocolate brown. It perfectly matched the color of his eyes. I wanted to document every memory he gave me, both public and intimate. Reading through my journal and seeing the pictures he snapped of us all week long would undoubtedly supply fantastic memories for years to come.

I also bought him a journal of his own in a beautiful blue that he said matched my eyes. Surprising him, I filled the first few pages with all the reasons he made me so happy.

The closer we got to his home, the more my anxiety grew. For the most part, my thoughts were consumed with Marco. There were tiny pockets of time when I’d worry about what was at the end of our journey. I kept those thoughts to myself, but there were times he knew exactly what I was thinking just from the look on my face. He used distraction to his advantage, and it would work until something reminded me the reality of meeting his family was nearing.

Today, my anxiety was off the charts.

“
Bella
, I love you,” he said when I’d been silent for a long stretch of our drive.

“I know, me too.” He took my hand and brought it to his lips before placing it on his thigh. “The colors of the trees are so beautiful. I love autumn, and I’ve never seen foliage in America like this.”

“It’s the clean Tuscan air.”

“How much farther?” When we left Pisa, Marco said it was just over an hour to Florence. As we traveled along a tree-lined, winding road, I assumed we must be close.

He looked over with a shy smile. “We’re here.”

I looked around, not seeing any homes—or civilization, for that matter. “This is Florence?”

“We are just outside the city.”

“Where’s your house?”

He pointed up the road, and just as we came to a clearing, a massive mansion appeared like a vision.

“Holy shit.” When I glanced his way, it was more than obvious he was embarrassed by the way he chewed on his bottom lip. “Marco, this is insane.”

“It’s just a house,
bella
.”

Was he serious?

“It’s a freakin’ city.” I gaped openmouthed, my gaze alternating between his serious face and his serious house.

Once he reached the top of the circular, pavestone driveway, he shifted into park and stared at the house for a few long seconds. Repositioning in his seat until he faced me, he gripped the back of his neck and sighed. “
Bella
, it’s still me. The man who grew up in that house no longer exists. This man,” he said, placing a hand on his chest, “is the real Marco. The man I am with you is the real Marco. Don’t you know that by now?”

The look on his face crushed me. I was so wrapped up in my own concerns and worries I never took into consideration what he was feeling. Besides having to deal with his family, trying to downplay his wealth, all the while knowing I’d see for myself soon enough, must have been consuming him.

“I do know that,” I said, taking his hand in between both of mine. “I’m sorry. I’m just nervous.”

“I know, and I’m right here with you. I love you. Once they get to know you, they will as well.” Reaching over, he buried his other hand in my hair. “Are you ready to do this with me?”

I nodded with a sigh. “Yes, I’m ready. Are you?”

“Not yet.” He closed the distance between us and kissed me firmly. My mouth automatically opened, and his tongue darted in the minute it did. I could kiss this man forever and never tire of it. The only thing that had me pulling away was the thought that someone inside his fortress could be watching us. He shook his head when I tried and pulled me back to his mouth. A much-needed breath was the second reason I pulled away.

“You’re stalling?”

“Yes.” He leaned in for one more long, hard kiss. “Okay, now, I’m ready. Let’s go meet my
pazzo
family.”

He left our stuff in the car and took my hand in his before leading me up the stone steps toward the front door. “Are your sisters here too?”

“I guess we’ll soon see.”

The doorbell clanged loud enough to be heard a mile away.

“
Dio mio, Marco
!” a woman’s voice shrieked through the intercom. I gazed up and saw a security camera pointing at us.

“
Ciao, Mama
.”

When the heavy, ornate door swung open, a beautiful older woman stood before us. Her light brown hair was twisted into an elegant chignon, her makeup was flawless, and her clothes screamed expensive sophistication.

He refused to release my hand as she threw her arms around him. Marco towered over her while she clung to his chest. Using his only free hand, he peeled her arms away one by one. My heart leapt in my throat when she focused on me for the first time.

He rolled out a few sentences in Italian, in which she responded, adding a tilt of her head.

“My girlfriend.”

Her mouth gaped open, and she said something to him while staring at me. I had no idea what she just said, but the look on her face clearly told me she wasn’t happy.

Marco rambled a mile a minute at his mother, who just stood with a hand over her heart as if it were splintering in her chest.

I heard the words American and
The Horizon
, deducing he was explaining who I was and how we’d met. Otherwise, I had no clue what was being said. She mumbled something quietly as she dabbed the moisture around her eyes with perfectly manicured nails.

She pouted and whispered something while staring up at him.

“I wanted to come in person. Mama, I’d like you to please speak English while we are here.” His request surprised me, but it clearly shocked her.

Stubbornly, she responded in Italian.

He raised a brow and in a stern voice said, “Please.” After a pause, she nodded with a tight smile but otherwise remained silent. Whatever he said next prompted her to slowly extend her hand toward me. “Rebecca, this is my mother, Lina Puglia.”

I took her hand in mine, smiling as I did. “It’s nice to meet you.”

“Okay to meet you, too. Sorry, my English not so good,” she explained with a shrug.

“That’s okay. I’m sorry I don’t speak Italian, but Marco is slowly teaching me.”

Marco and I exchanged a meaningful glance that forced another tight smile to appear on her lips. This woman was not happy right now based on the frown lines both on her forehead and around her mouth.

I couldn’t see any resemblance toward her son. I was above average in height, but his mother was much more petite. Her hair was a lighter shade of brown, her eyes more topaz than chocolate. Maybe they had the same smile, but I was yet to witness a genuine one so I had no clue.

Wordlessly, she moved aside to let us in. The foyer was breathtaking. Marble floors, wood antiques, and silk upholstered furniture all mixed together perfectly. What made the space stunning were the choices of colors. The combination of pale blues, soft creams, and deep browns somehow magically soothed my heart as it jackhammered in my chest.

“Your home is beautiful,” I said toward her retreating back.

We were following close enough behind for me to hear a quiet, “
Grazie
.”

The only sound came from our heels clacking on the marble floor.

Marco squeezed my hand in his as we entered an enormous kitchen. “
Vorresti vino
?”

“Yes, please,” he responded in English.

While his mother retrieved some wineglasses and a bottle of wine from a large rack, he led me to the granite island and motioned for me to sit.

“Where’s Pa?”

She responded in Italian, until she saw the look on her son’s face. “Sorry, I forget. He come soon. Sofia need help
a casa
.”

“Sofia is my oldest sister. Isabella is the middle,” he explained. “They both live minutes away.”

“I’ve heard about Italian mothers and their sons,” I whispered so only he could hear me. “Is it true?”

He nodded with a shrug.

Great.
In her eyes I was probably a commoner who came to steal away the prince, otherwise known as her son.

My eyes drank in every inch of the most incredible kitchen I’d ever seen in my life. The entire back wall was glass, affording a spectacular view of their property. None of the cabinets were hung higher than mid-waist, so as to not hamper the view. State-of-the-art stainless steel appliances mingling with cherry wood cabinets made me want to prepare a meal, and I despised cooking. A thought suddenly dawned on me. I was with a passionate Italian, and I couldn’t cook if it had to save my life in a hostage situation with a gun pointed at my head.

“You want me to make what? I’ll take the bullet, please.”

Mrs. Puglia served Marco and me each a glass of red and stood at the island across from us. “So, why the surprise visit?”

“We have exciting news, and we wanted to tell you in person.”

I sat quietly beside him. I had a feeling I wouldn’t be speaking much during our stay. Fear of saying the wrong thing or of drawing attention to the fact I was indeed the “
Americana
” were both valid reasons to keep my trap shut.

Her eyes narrowed as she glared at my boobs. She said something with panic evident in her voice.

Marco cut his eyes to me before he shook his head and rolled his eyes. “No, Ma, she’s not pregnant.”

Oh my God.
Could this get any worse?

The relief she felt was obvious when a small smile played on her lips. After a confusing conversation bounced between English and Italian, Marco finally said, “We’ll talk about it when Pa gets home.”

“Okay,” she conceded. A slow smile spread across her face, and her eyes warmed toward me just a tiny little bit. “My son look happy.”

My eyes swung to Marco, who mimicked his mother’s smile. “Yes, Ma. I’m very happy.”

She reached across the island and took his other hand. “I see, and I like. You too serious. If you happy, Mama happy.” She then met my shocked eyes and added, “Thank you for make my baby happy.”

In one statement, the woman effectively won over my heart. “He makes me very happy, too.”

Marco’s hands were instantly on my face, pulling me forward for a kiss. After it became inappropriately too long, I pulled away with an admonishing glare. “Marco.”

He chuckled at my discomfort. “Mama, I’m going to show Rebecca around.” Her all-knowing look meant he wasn’t fooling her.

In spite of her disapproving stance, he excused us to give me a tour. For the first time since arriving, I was glad his home was massive, because the tour took a nice chunk of time away from sitting under his mother’s scrutiny, and provided many hidden corners to make out in.

During the course of the day, Marco introduced me to the housekeeper, grounds keeper, chef, and Mr. Puglia’s assistant, Aldo.

Aldo was hilarious. A cross between Mr. Bean and Joe Pesci, the man could make me laugh simply by standing still. Aldo spoke broken English and had a penchant for bad knock-knock jokes where he’d often mix up the punch lines.

The house was amazing, the grounds even more so. Rolling hills of spectacular foliage consisting of reds, oranges, and yellows stretched for as far as the eye could see. A natural rock pool surrounded by a flagstone patio sat behind the left corner of the house. Toward the right was a neat fruit orchard that Marco explained contained apple, peach, olive, and almond trees.

“Marco, I can’t imagine what it would be like living here.”

“Our home was always filled with people, tons of relatives and friends always coming and going. We have a large family. Although my mother is an only child, my father is one of eight. Many cousins, aunts, uncles all live in the area.”

“That must have been fun. I have a big family, too.”

“It was exhausting. No privacy, ever.”

“Tell me about your childhood.”

“I went to private schools, played soccer, got into trouble with my friends, all normal stuff. Except, we had lots of money and everyone I knew had the same. So I didn’t really know other than this,” he said, waving his hand toward the acres and acres surrounding us.

“Why would you want to leave this?” I couldn’t imagine tiring of this, of Italy. It was a magical place that I already had fallen in love with.

He led me to a porch swing that hung between two massive oak trees facing the orchard. Pulling me tightly to his side, he continued.