Swept Away By The Venetian Millionaire

CHAPTER TWO

SHE’D CLEARLY BEEN dining on cotton. Maya tried to swallow past the dry ash that seemed to be coating her mouth and tongue. All she managed was a squeaky croak.

Water. She was in desperate need of water.

Maya forced her lids open and winced at the pain behind her eyes once she did. For heaven’s sake. She hadn’t even had the whole bottle. Just went to prove what a lightweight she was. After all, wasn’t that a point that Matt had continually made? How often had he told her that she needed to let loose a little? To not be so constrained and proper all the time.

Maybe if she had done so every once in a while, her tolerance level would be a little higher.

Well, if he could only see her now. Sprawled out on a couch in what appeared to be the back room of an Italian art studio that she’d followed a stranger to. She could hear soft Italian voices from somewhere in the building. Two male voices and one female. Maya didn’t understand a thing that was being said. She heard the sound of a door open, then close.

Maya struggled to sit up. She wore a soft cotton tunic of some sort. She vaguely remembered stepping behind a curtain to take off her clingy wet capri pants and tank top, nearly toppling over in the process.

But she also remembered other things. Gentle, sympathetic chestnut-brown eyes. Wavy hair so dark it had reminded her of the moonless New England sky. A set of strong arms steadying her on her feet after helping to lift her out of the water. Who was he, exactly?

She really had no idea of the identity of the man who’d brought her here.

A gasp escaped her chest. How utterly mortifying. She’d left herself at the total mercy of a complete stranger. A stranger in a foreign city where she didn’t know a soul. No one would even know to come looking for her if this handsome artist man turned out to be a cold-blooded psycho killer.

Maya bit back a groan. Definitely one of the dumber things she’d done. But it wasn’t as if she’d followed the man back to his private residence. Technically, she was in a public place of business. There’d even been browsers in here when they’d arrived after her drunken mishap with the gondola. Sure. Like that kind of reasoning would pass muster with Uncle Rex if he ever got word of any of this.

Uncle Rex. She hadn’t technically lied to him and the rest of her family. She’d just bought herself some time, inadvertently doing the same for Matt. She’d concocted a vague tale about Matt running into some kind of emergency at work that would delay his travel and that he would join her in Europe as soon as he could. Just a small fib in order to postpone the nastiness that was certain to follow once she announced the demise of her engagement to the man her family considered to be the catch of the decade. Little did they know.

Little had she known.

Sudden tears stung the back of her eyes, exacerbating the pounding pain in her head. Fire burned behind her throat. All her earthly possessions for a drop of water.

The universe answered her prayers.

“May I come in?” she heard a masculine voice ask from the doorway. “I heard rustling. Figured you must be awake? Sì?”

“That might be one word to describe it.”

Her rescuer walked in carrying a tray of assorted plates and dishes as well as a steaming carafe. But the only thing Maya could focus on was the glass pitcher of icy water with wedges of lemon floating on top.

“How do you feel?” he asked as he set his load down on the marble table between them.

How could she possibly answer that? So many apt descriptions came to mind. Embarrassed. Ill. Thirsty. Out of her element.

And to dig deeper, she was utterly confused as to what her future held now. A boring dead-end job. Her most significant relationship in complete shambles. Nothing to look forward to. She forced the thoughts away and focused her eyes on the man standing before her.

Maya had to suck in a breath. Now that her gaze had cleared, she realized her memory of their initial encounter had not done the man justice. He was breathtakingly handsome. Tall and dark, with broad shoulders and richly tanned skin. He wore dark pleated dress pants with a pressed collared shirt the color of the Cape sky at dawn. He looked like he’d just stepped out of a print ad for expensive men’s cologne.

She pulled on the collar of her smock. Dear heavens, in contrast to this stellar specimen of a man, she must look like a walking demolition site.

Without waiting for her answer, he lifted the jug of water and began pouring into a clear glass with yet another lemon wedge at the bottom. So the man had mind-reading skills in addition to killer good looks. Either that or she looked as parched as she felt.

She took the water gratefully with a shaky hand as she spoke. “I feel like I might have drunk too much on an empty stomach and then fallen into a river in front of a crowd of strangers.”

He gave a playful shrug as she took a massive swallow of water. The ice-cold liquid felt heavenly as it poured over her thick tongue and down her dry throat.

“Hey, these things happen,” he said, giving her a playful wink.

Maya wouldn’t have thought she had it in her to laugh.

Vito Rameri. See, she couldn’t have been too far out of it earlier by the canal if she remembered his name. Though it would be hard to forget the sole person who’d helped her out of a situation like that. An artist and a gentleman. Even the gondolier had taken off at the first opportunity. Vito was the only one who’d stayed to make sure she was okay. Which begged the question: Had she even so much as thanked him yet?

She cleared her throat. “I don’t know how to thank you, Signor Rameri.”

He cut her off before she could continue. “Please. Call me Vito. Signor Rameri is my father.”

“Okay. Vito, then. I’m not sure what would have happened if you hadn’t come along.” She studied her fingers. “I don’t know how to pay back your kindness. I vow to find a way.”

He waved a hand in dismissal. “Nonsense. Anyone would have done the same. We Venetians take care of the visitors to our city.”

“Well, you shouldn’t have had to take care of this tourist. Please believe me when I say that my behavior today was quite uncharacteristic. This isn’t how I normally behave. I’m not even much of a drinker.”

“Clearly.”

Between his accent and the absurdity of this conversation, Maya couldn’t tell if he was being sarcastic. If so, he had every right.

“I didn’t think I’d had that much. Only I hadn’t eaten anything since arriving yesterday and I guess I don’t know my tolerance too well.” Or lack thereof.

“Alcohol on an empty stomach can certainly catch up with someone who’s not used to it.”

She nodded. “Exactly. And I should have known better. It’s just that I’m dealing with an unexpected...disappointment.”

“Ah, right. The bastardo.”

She’d forgotten about that tidbit in their conversation. “Yes, that would be Matt. My fia—” she caught herself. “My former fiancé. As of about three days ago.” Though it seemed like she’d been dealing with the loss and betrayal for far longer.

Maya didn’t think she could feel any lower. Between having to explain herself to this handsome Italian and the feeling of complete and utter rejection, her loser status was quite confirmed. And did the Italian have to be quite so good-looking? Why couldn’t she have been rescued by a balding, older, grandfatherly type? Would that have been too much to ask? Instead, her savior had had to come in the form of a dark and charming Adonis clad in Armani.

Yet another way she’d failed at life. Another indication that she didn’t fit in with the accomplished, overachieving family she’d been taken in by after losing her parents. Both her cousins had ideal careers and relationships. Her aunt was a revered professor at one of Boston’s top universities. Her uncle a respected and successful business owner. And here she was, unable to enjoy a dream trip she couldn’t have even afforded on her own without the assistance of her grandmother.

“Why don’t you tell me about it? While you eat. You mentioned you haven’t eaten since yesterday. It’s just criminal to go without nourishment that long in a city with such gourmet cuisine.”

Her stomach growled in response to his words. She studied the food-laden tray he’d set down earlier. An elaborate antipasto plate with olives, several varieties of cheese and small glass bowls of various dipping oils. A crusty loaf of Italian bread looked like it had just been pulled out of the oven. Maya’s mouth watered despite herself. And bless the man, she could smell the rich aroma of strong Italian espresso wafting from the silver pitcher. In spite of the queasy roiling in her stomach, she really was quite famished.

“You shouldn’t have gone to all this trouble.”

“No trouble. I just stepped into the trattoria next door. I do it all the time.” He motioned to the food. “Go on. Eat. The bread won’t stay warm much longer.”

Maya ducked her head. As much as she wanted to indulge in the mouthwatering array of goodies before her, she felt like a helpless child who had to be taken care of. It was enough that he’d pulled her out of the water then given her a safe place to sober up. He certainly didn’t need to be waiting on her, as well.

Not that the child comparison wasn’t an adequate description. What she ought to do was to find her clothes, determine exactly where she was and make her way back to her hotel room overlooking the piazza. Then she should sit there and contemplate all the ways her life had gone so horribly astray.

Still, Vito had been so kind to get a meal set up for her. It would be rude to turn it down. “Only if you’ll join me.”

“I never turn down an offer to share a meal with a beautiful woman.”

Wow. He really was a charmer.

“It will give us a chance to talk,” Vito added, pulling up a chair to the marble table between them. “I get the feeling you could use a...how do you say...an ear lender?”

That tickled a smile out of her. “Close enough.” She shook her head. “But I couldn’t do that. I’ve already taken up so much of your time and graciousness.”

He released a long sigh, one heavy with a meaning she couldn’t guess at. Lifting the carafe, he poured steaming espresso into both their cups.

“Trust me. At the moment, I have more than enough time.”

* * *

Why exactly did he care? Vito really had no business wanting to know more about the sad American beauty currently sitting in his back-room office. But he found himself genuinely curious.

She called to him. Unlike anyone he could remember. Even Marina. A stab of guilt tore through his chest. Would he ever be able to think of her without the guilt eating away at him? Would her memory ever cease to tear him to shreds inside?

Across from him, Maya sat sipping her espresso. The way she seemed to savor each taste made him want to capture the expression on her face. His fingers actually tingled with the desire to find his sketch book yet again. Twice so far this afternoon, when he hadn’t created anything in months. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d felt that longing. No. Actually, he could. He could trace it back to the day his world had turned tragically upside down. And he had no one but himself to blame for any of it.

He realized she was speaking.

“I wonder if I should have even come.”

“You were in no condition to go back to your hotel.”

She bit down on her bottom lip. “I mean I shouldn’t have come to Venice. I should have stayed home. In Boston.”

“One should never regret visiting Venice.”

She swallowed the piece of bread she’d bitten into. “Look how much trouble I’ve been. And it’s only day two,” she said on a miserable-sounding groan.

“Then we must assume it’s only going to get better from here.”

She grunted a laugh. The sound held no amusement. “It couldn’t get much lower, could it?”

“Come now. Things could have been much worse.”

Her eyebrows lifted. “How do you figure that?”

“Well, you could have been hurt during your fall. You haven’t broken anything. By tomorrow, all of this will be forgotten. After all, I didn’t see anyone with a phone out, filming or snapping photos.”

The blood rushed from her face as she clapped a hand to her mouth. “Oh, my God. Are you sure? That would be all I need. To have all this posted somewhere online for everyone to witness.”

“Including the bastardo?”

“Yes! Even him!”

Interesting phrasing on her part. Something tightened in his chest at the look of horror on her face. This former fiancé of hers had done quite a number on her. Despite his betrayal, she desperately cared still what he thought of her. The man clearly hadn’t deserved the affections of such a lady. “Relax,” he reassured her. “I was watching the scene as it unfolded. No one had any type of recording device.”

Relief flooded her face. Then, to his surprise, she let out a small chuckle. “I’m guessing it was quite a sight to behold.”

Vito bit down on his tongue to keep from laughing himself. She noticed his struggle. “It’s all right. Go ahead and laugh. I won’t take it personally.”

He clasped his chest in mock offense. “I would never laugh at a lady in such a manner.”

“I wouldn’t blame you if you did. I’m sure I looked quite ridiculous as I lost my footing and splashed into the water.”

“On the contrary, it was quite a graceful fall. Perhaps the most elegant instance of a lady tripping I’ve ever had the opportunity to witness.”

“Somehow I doubt it. I’m certain it wasn’t my most ladylike moment.”

“I think being too ladylike is overrated, myself.”

Her lips tightened. “So I’ve been told.”

Indeed, he’d been right. The fiancé had left a mark on her psyche that would last for a long while. Vito felt a sudden intense dislike for a faceless man he wouldn’t know if they crossed paths on the nearest bridge.

“I think you should forget everything this man ever told you,” he ventured, though he knew he was perilously close to crossing a line. After all, he’d barely met the woman. For all he knew, her ex-fiancé was the love of her life. A loss she might never get over. Something he couldn’t quite put his finger on told him that wasn’t the case. Still, the tightness in his chest intensified. How silly of him.

“I’ll have to give that a try.” Her words were utterly unconvincing. She’d be licking her wounds for some time.

He wished he could find the right words to say, words that might reassure her, persuade her that this Matt wasn’t worth the love she’d wasted on him. Even given what little he knew of the situation, he had no doubt the man had been given a gift and had been too selfish to cherish it.

As if that wasn’t the most hypocritical thought, coming from someone like him, of all people.

“I wish there was a way I could be of help, cara,” he said, dropping the endearment without thinking. Her surprised intake of breath told him she was familiar with the word.

“You’ve done more than enough.”

“Yet here you are. Miserable and alone on a trip that was clearly meant to be a romantic getaway.”

She slumped where she sat. “It was supposed to be so much more than that.”

“Oh?”

“My grandmother won this trip for me at a charity auction. To raise money for a substance abuse shelter on Martha’s Vineyard. She spent a good chunk of her retirement savings on my behalf.”

And she felt guilty about that. His artist’s eye could almost see it manifested. The guilt practically sat like a heavy, tangible weight on her shoulders. “Sounds like a deserving and noble cause.”

“It was. She wanted the trip to be an early wedding present. A pre-honeymoon. Because she knew how much I’ve always wanted to see the historic art of the European continent. Matt would have never agreed to come if we’d had to pay for it ourselves. He’s more a tropical island type of traveler.”

“I see.”

“It was such a generous gesture on her part. She’d tell me about all the marvelous trips she and my grandfather used to take. She wanted me to be able to experience something like it firsthand.”

“Well, all I have to say is—better solo than never. Does that make sense as an American idiom?”

The pensive look on her face gave him the answer to that question. “I know what you mean,” she assured him. “Nevertheless. I never should have attempted it alone. I’ve come to the conclusion that I’m going to cut this trip short. And stay in my room in the meantime. It was foolish of me to think I could enjoy this after everything that happened back in Boston. I’ve been kidding myself.”

Vito couldn’t help his next move. Reaching across the table, he took her trembling hand into his own. “I would be completely remiss as a Venetian if I allowed that to happen, cara. You mustn’t leave. Not just yet.”

* * *

“How can I let you leave this majestic city so soon? And without the opportunity to fully explore it?” Vito Rameri wanted to know.

A jolt of awareness flashed between them as he took her hand in his. For a moment Maya couldn’t get her mouth to work. Electricity seemed to sparkle along her skin, originating at the exact spot where he touched her.

Once she managed to get her brain to focus, Maya wanted to answer him with a few questions of her own, albeit rhetorical ones. Questions like: How could she go on acting the happy tourist when her whole reality had just crumpled? How could she pretend all the activities she’d been so looking forward to as part of a couple would be anything less than awkward for her now?

Slowly she pulled her hand out of his gentle grip. She was clearly overcompensating for Matt’s rejection. Looking for validation from a stranger. Sure, that stranger happened to be achingly handsome. Straight out of a romance novel. But she’d be remiss to start reading things into small gestures.

It was no wonder she was overreacting to the man before her. He was simply being kind. Worse, he’d probably taken pity on her. How pathetic that she thought there was some kind of mysterious current between them.

“I don’t know,” she began. “Day two didn’t go so well.”

“It’s not over yet, however.”

She supposed he had a point. And she could have done worse than meeting this charming, charismatic man. Though she would have preferred a much different set of circumstances leading to said meeting.

She watched as he poured more coffee into both their cups. What if they’d met under different circumstances? What if somehow she’d made this journey years ago as a single woman? Or perhaps with a bunch of girlfriends? She imagined wandering into his studio purely by coincidence, simply to admire a local artist’s work. What might such a different introduction have led to? Would they have hit it off? She wasn’t the type of woman to typically attract a man like the one she sat eating with right now. But maybe, just maybe, he would have seen something in her.

Who was she kidding? Vito Rameri probably wouldn’t have given her a second glance under normal circumstances. It took literally falling into a canal for someone like her to be noticed by the likes of him.

She wasn’t the striking, alluring type. In fact, it had taken her by surprise two years ago when the outgoing, successful, not to mention strikingly handsome son of her uncle’s business partner had first asked her out. She’d almost been too stunned to accept his invitation to a leisurely pasta lunch in Boston’s North End. To her further shock, Matt seemed to have genuinely enjoyed her company that afternoon. So much so that he’d asked her out again before their lunch was even over.

Maya had hoped she might have finally found the man who would help her create the kind of future she so desperately craved. A future with a family of her own. Not one she’d been thrust into after tragedy had left her orphaned and alone. One she actually felt she belonged in and fit into.

But she had to admit that, deep down, she’d sensed something wasn’t right about the whole thing. Even on that first lunch date, the vibe between her and Matt had seemed forced. Rather than giving her the future she so desperately wanted, she’d known somehow Matt was going to let her down. Or vice versa.

Maya had ignored the warning bells that seemed to go off every step of the way. Those bells had morphed into all-out ringing alarms when Matt proposed. In many ways, he was too much for her. Too outgoing, too talkative, too everything. They’d both known and done their best to pretend not to. She’d also ignored her suspicions that she’d been nothing more to Matt than a convenient way to present himself as a settled and serious career professional rather than the philandering party man he really was. Again, she’d foolishly brushed it all aside.

She looked up to find Vito studying her. “You appear to have drifted off thousands of miles. Back to Boston, perhaps?”

Maya gave a shake of her head. “I’m sorry. Just thinking about some things, is all.”

“I saw.” He leaned back, inhaled. “Did anyone tell you that you have the most transparent face?”

“I don’t understand.”

“It’s almost as if your features completely alter as your thoughts do. It’s difficult to explain.”

As far as lines went, that was a new one. If Vito was trying to come on to her, this was the most unusual way she’d ever heard.

“No. I can honestly say that no one has ever told me that before.”

“It’s true. Someone who creates art for a living can see it clearly.”

Yeah, that was definitely not any kind of flirtation on his part. “Well, I think you may be the first real artist I’ve met. No one’s actually commented on my face that I can recall.”

She saw his hand move ever so slightly before he curled his fingers into his palm. For an insane moment, she thought he might have been about to touch her. She imagined him trailing a finger along her jawline, cupping her cheek in his palm. A shiver ran down her spine.

The effect of his gaze was hypnotic. He wasn’t so much looking at her as discovering, exploring her features. The air around them suddenly grew thick. In that moment, Maya had the strangest notion that she somehow knew this man. Had known him forever. She’d seen him in her dreams, heard his voice in her imaginings.