The Playboy's Fugitive Bride (18 page)

Well, she was the one who had broached the subject, which made her even more suspicious of him.  The man was a chameleon—changing from one mood or language to the other in the bat of an eyelash.

While they ate, he’d kept the conversation light by asking her about her teaching career and her life in New York City.  His questions had made her sad.  She loved her job and her students, and she was going to miss them so much.  Massimo had also shared a little about his life growing up in Granite Falls.

He’d spoken affectionately about his grandfather, Piero, with whom he’d had a close relationship, closer than the one he’d had with his father she suspected since he hadn’t even mentioned his father.  Nia wondered if he hated his father for the openly multiple affairs he had while married to his mother.  If her father had publicly humiliated her mother like that, she would hate him too.

Nia remembered the boyish grin on Massimo’s face when he spoke of his
nono
who had taught him ice fishing, rock-climbing, gliding, deep-sea snorkeling, and a host of other skills he thought a young boy should know.  A licensed pilot himself, his grandfather had taught him how to fly a helicopter, and Massimo had offered to take Nia up for a ride one day soon.

The man was complex, among other things, she thought, studying the smoothness of his olive skin stretched taut over the elegant ridges of his cheekbones, his straight, fine nose, and strong, square jawline.  He was indeed a very handsome and irresistible man.

If their circumstances were different, she could see herself falling for him, loving him, marrying him and having his babies.  He could so easily have been her imperfect someone.  If she were honest with herself, Nia would have to admit that she was a little disappointed that he’d offered to recant his announcement about their marriage.

The world would see her as another inadequate, insufficient woman who couldn’t keep Massimo’s attention even for a week.  She would look like the fool, his latest discarded victim.  Nia couldn’t tell if she’d prefer being known as his unhappy wife or his jilted fiancée.  Both positions were equally distasteful, but since she wouldn’t be around when he made his announcement, it really didn’t matter.

Nia turned her head to take in one last, lingering view of her breathtaking surroundings.  When she left, she would take along this pleasant memory of sitting here with Massimo engaging in light chatter and enjoying scrumptious meals with him.  She would…

Wait a minute!
  Nia’s mind floundered as ripples of suspicion settled in her stomach. Massimo hadn’t said they weren’t getting married, nor had he offered to recant the announcement regarding their nuptials.  He’d said he couldn’t make her want to marry him.  What kind of ambiguous talk was that?  His words had been carefully wrapped in neutral shades, and as she began to strip away the layers of meaning, his subtle deceit became clear to Nia.  He had plans for her.

She turned to encounter a warm smile playing at the corners of his mouth.  “Massimo, did you—” She held her breath and tongue as he turned his head and looked at her.  It was the same unwelcome look he’d given her the first time she’d approached him in the cabin, like she’d walked uninvited onto his private, sacred stage.  What affectionate memory of his had she interrupted?

“Yes, I brought the money, Nia.  I did promise.  I keep my promises.”

“Well I wasn’t suggesting—”

“Would you like to see your two million dollars?”  His eyes were aglow with an ineffable emotion.

“Well, yes.  I would love to see it.” 
Chameleon
.

Her suspicions instantly altered to relief that her charade was coming to an end, a successful one at that.  She didn’t have the energy to continue down this deceptive path for another day.  Massimo’s constant proximity was making it impossible for her to stay focused.  She was suddenly grateful that he’d given her one week, instead of the four she’d initially asked for.

Nia took deep breaths to calm her jittering nerves as Massimo walked around the table toward her.  Two million dollars was all she’d come to Granite Falls for.  The thought of laying her eyes on all that money was enough to make her leap with joy, but she managed to hide her delight.  She was so close, so close to saving Aaron’s life, of giving him the life he deserved, the life their father would have provided if he were still alive.

This was her real life
.

Those little stolen moments of enjoyment she and Massimo just shared were silly snippets from the infatuated heart of a seventeen-year-old girl.

That was a fairy tale.

She stood up when Massimo held her chair and moved it out of her way.  He stood back and with his hand indicated for her to precede him into the living room of the master suite.

“This way,” he said taking up the lead.  “Down the hall to the vault.”

Nia followed him into the hallway.  It was impossible for her not to admire the tight outline of his buttocks under his trousers—he had a beautiful ass.  And the way his powerful well-muscled body moved with easy grace and virility under his white silk shirt made her heart race.  There was no hesitation in his step, no slouching in his mile-wide shoulders.

He was a man who knew where he was headed, one who would not be sidetracked with trivial nuisances.  Nia wondered if he considered her a nuisance.  Had she forced him to take a detour from his carefully planned-out life?  If he did think of her that way, she wasn’t making any apologies.

Hell, coming to Granite Falls was a detour for her.  Her life was perfectly fine until the broken promises from his New Hampshire chicken coop came to roost on her New York doorstep.

She halted when he stopped at a door almost at the end of the hall.  He’d skipped this room during the tour he’d given her two nights ago.  The house was gigantic, the first floor complete with an Olympic-size swimming pool, sauna, steam room, hot tub, the works, and even a massage room.  He’d also shown her his modern, fully equipped ‘man cave’ as he called it, where he entertained Erik, Bryce, and Adam, once in a while.  They could shot pool, play mini golf, tennis, and racquetball in that cave.  A spacious movie theatre and state-of-the-art surround sound stereo system had been installed for relaxing pleasure.

Massimo had told her that the first floor used to be the servants’ quarters in the old days, but since he had no servants, he’d turned it into his cave.  Azi occupied one of the guest rooms on the second floor where the kitchen, dining and living rooms, library, study, ballroom, and a few more unnecessary rooms were situated.  Nia had wondered why he hadn’t renovated the rest of the house—probably because he spent most of his time at his lakeside villa with his lover of the week.

Nia guessed he hadn’t trusted her enough then to bring her into his family vault.  Did he trust her now? she wondered as he began to punch some numbers into a silver-plated electronic keypad on the wall next to the door.

“I guess this is where you keep the family jewels,” she said to lighten the brooding atmosphere that had followed them from the balcony.

“Nope, I keep those in my pants.”  His response was as rapid as it was intimately effective, casting visions of his ‘family jewels’ across her mind.

“And you’re welcome to see them anytime you want.  I would even let you play with a couple of stones, but you’ll have to be extremely careful since they’re rather delicate and responsive to the touch.  You don’t have to wait until Wednesday, Nia?  I can show them to you tonight.”

Nia felt herself swimming through a haze of wanton desires as her heart hammered against her ribs.  “Wednesday is good,” she said, whipping those feelings into shape.  “I’m getting to know multiple sides of you, and I like that.  I need more time like we had at lunch.  There was no pressure or expectations, just two adults enjoying a delicious meal and each other’s company.”

“I like that, too,
cara
.  I’ll have to see that we spend more quality, platonic time together.”  He gazed down at her with intensely warm eyes.  “I never thought I’d admit this to you, or even to myself, but I’m glad you made us wait before we make love.  It’s a new experience for me.  Perhaps good things do come to those who wait.  It’ll make our coming together much more phenomenal, I think.”

Butterflies fluttered around in Nia’s belly as an ache grew in her throat.  For six years she’d fantasized about making love with Massimo Andretti, and now that she had the opportunity the unfortunate circumstances surrounding their relationship had rendered it impossible.

Why did he have to lie to her father?   Why hadn’t he just kept his promise?

If he hadn’t lied,
her inner voice argued
, you wouldn’t be standing here with him right now.  You are not the type of woman Massimo Andretti totes about on his arm.  The real you, the insignificant daughter of a washed-up mill owner would never have attracted Massimo Andretti’s attention.  Who is the real ‘you’ anyway?

“After you.”

Nia silenced the voice of rational reasoning in her head and stepped through the door when Massimo pushed it open.  It was pitch-dark for a second until he flipped a switch and flooded the room with soft light.

Nia walked further into the room.  The only furniture was a marble table with four black leather chairs around it.  Two walls were made up of rows of safety deposit boxes of varying sizes like those she’d find in a bank vault.

Another wall was lined with a set of black velvet drapes that extended from the black marble floor to the silver steel-finished ceiling.  There were no windows in the room and the only exit was the door through which she’d entered.

Hearing a metallic click behind her, Nia turned around.

“It locks automatically when you enter and leave,” Massimo said.  “You have to punch in a different combination of numbers to get out,” he continued, pointing at another silver-plated electronic device on the wall next to the door.  “A thief may get in, but if he or she doesn’t have both combinations, there’s no getting out.”

Nia swallowed.  How the hell was she supposed to retrieve her money tonight if it was locked away in Fort Knox?

“Don’t worry,” Massimo stated, as if reading her mind.  “You’ll have the combinations.  I only come in here when I absolutely have to, and Azi comes in once a week to dust and vacuum the drapes.  You can come in and roll around in your dough as often as you want.  Just make sure you remember the code to get out or you may find yourself locked in here for a while.”

“I think I’ll take it to another room and roll around in it there.”  She ran her hands up and down the sleeves of her aqua wool sweater.  “It’s kind of chilly in here.”

He moved away from the door and walked in her direction.  “The vault is climate and light-controlled to protect the paintings and other family heirlooms.”

“I don’t see any paintings, but I figure the heirlooms are stored inside there.”  She flared her hand at the walls of safety deposit boxes.  Which one held her two million?  And when was he going to end her suspense?  He had to know she was dying to have that money in her possession.

He walked to the table, picked up a remote control and pressed a button.  The black drapes parted.

“Wow,” Nia exclaimed at the numerous paintings on the wall.

“My ancestors,” he said, strolling toward the family wall.  “You said you wanted to know me better.  Here’s your chance.”

Nia drew closer for a better look.  She immediately recognized some of the faces from the research she’d started on the Andretti family when she first met and fell into infatuation with Massimo.  Her research had come to a halt after Massimo had broken his promise to her father.  She’d stopped giving a damn about him or any other Andretti, so there was a lot she didn’t know about his family history.  She still didn’t give a damn, but she had to pretend she cared for a few more hours.

“This is my great-great-grandfather, Luca.”  Massimo folded his arms and stared up at a brown-eyed, frail-looking, heavily bearded man.  “He was barely a man when he left Bellagio to seek his fortune in America.  He used his expertise in candle and silk production from a factory in Italy to start one in New York City.”

Nia detected pride in Massimo’s voice as he talked about his ancestor.  She wished she could share her family history about her ancestor, Thomas, a young runaway slave who’d made his way to Maine and started his own paper mill.  As far as she knew, it was the only paper mill in America that was started and owned by a black family.

Thomas had named his mill West Gate after the west gate of the plantation he’d made his escape from all those generations ago.  One west gate had given him freedom; the other had brought him success.  Then an Andretti had slammed it shut, destroying the dream Thomas had brought to life.

Nia knew her father had been plagued with shame at losing their family legacy.  She wished she had the means to buy it back, restore her family heritage make her father proud.  Maybe one day when Eddie wasn’t a threat anymore and Aaron was settled in his life she might find a way to buy back her family mill.  In the meantime, like the saying goes, there was no point crying over spilled milk, or in this case torn paper.

“Is that Luca’s wife?” Nia asked referring to the portrait of the plump, rosy-cheeked woman next to Luca.

“Yes.  That’s Rigarda.  She wasn’t too happy about leaving her home, menial as it was, for the shores of an unknown land.”

Nia thought she looked like a ghost compared to her dark-complexioned husband.  There wasn’t even a hint of a smile on her face, and her hazel eyes looked vacant.  Women back then didn’t have a lot to smile about she supposed, especially one who was forced to leave her home behind.  She could so identify with Rigarda.

“She died when my great-grandfather, Bruno, was an infant,” Massimo said.  “It’s rumored that their marriage was arranged and that she died of a broken heart, pining away for the true love she’d left behind in Bellagio.”

“Thank God for the suffrage movement,” Nia murmured, “or we’d still have a lot of unhappy women pining away for their true loves.”