New tears flooded Luciana’s eyes, but this time they were tears of joy.
“Come in later this afternoon and we will finalize the paperwork. I’ve given instructions for you to be directed to my office, and I look forward to seeing you.”
Luciana’s heart skipped a beat. “This afternoon?” The bank would be closed by the time she got off work. Gianpierre had been pushing them into longer and longer hours. “I’m not sure that I can get away from work.”
“This evening, then. Whatever time works for you. I will send you a text of my personal mobile number. Let me know that you are on your way, and I will meet you here. No time is too late.”
Luciana pulled the phone away from her ear and stared at it in disbelief. Possibly it was a cultural difference between Sicily and America, but she had never had a bank official be so nice to her. “Se, Signore! Gratzij! Gratzij!”
Clicking off of the call, Luciana jumped up and down in place and then did a little dance. Gianpierre’s crew watched her and laughed, but it was in good humor with camaraderie.
“We can get Gianpierre’s place!” Luciana exclaimed unintelligibly in a muted squeal. It was loud enough to give her glee someplace to go while not being so loud as to telecast her business to everyone within hearing distance. As far as she knew, none of Gianpierre’s regular crew knew what had happened between them. They didn’t know that she was trying to buy his home, and they sure as heck didn’t know that she had walked in on him while he was naked.
To be honest, Gianpierre had barely spoken ten words to her since that night. She’d taken the next day off—per Gianpierre’s direction—and then had returned to work the day after as usual. She’d tried to talk to him about the incident twice, but each time he would bark out an order to someone on his crew and they would be off to investigate some new corner of the catacombs. This time, though, Luciana had news about the catacombs herself. One of the workers had found yet another room that had been filled with dirt. Its structural integrity was unknown, and its contents were unknown.
“Where is he?” Luciana said aloud as she scanned the courtyard. Gianpierre was traditionally the first one on-site and the last one to leave, but today he was late. “Michela,” she called out, flagging down one of Gianpierre’s regular crew. Crossing the courtyard, Luciana was careful where she stepped and looked for any tell-tale signs that the ground was dipping.
“Se?” the Sicilian beauty asked, setting her hammer and chisel aside and standing up. She was reshaping the stone bricks to ensure the best fit possible. No filler was to be used between the rock bricks in many places and maximum surface-to-surface contact was imperative for the bricks to lock in place with a good pressure and friction hold.
Luciana had shaken hands with the woman once not long after being hired on as Project Manager. She would never make that mistake again. Michela had gotten goosed in the ribs by another worker just as their hands were locking. Startled, Michela had clamped down on her grip, and Luciana had thought that Michela had broken her hand. It was clear that Michela was all woman, but beneath her soft, feminine features was work-hardened muscle.
Luciana couldn’t help but wonder if her and Gianpierre had ever been a pair. The woman was stunning with high cheekbones, long, thick black hair and eyes that had a mesmerizing, smoky darkness that was not quite black and not quite brown. As for Gianpierre, he was certainly handsome enough to turn any woman’s head. It would make sense that Gianpierre would find companionship with one of the people he travelled with most. Despite that, she’d never seen either of them look at each other with even a hint of that kind of familiarity. Luciana was the only one he ever seemed to look at with heat in his eyes, but it was hard for her to accept that she was not part of a convenient trend.
“Michela, have you or any of the others heard from Gia
npierre this morning?”
“Ahh, se. He’s there,” she said, pointing past Luciana before returning to her work.
Luciana turned around to see Gianpierre making his way across the courtyard. He was wearing his usual work-worn jeans but also wore a navy blue suit jacket over top.
Sex on a stick. The words were in her head without her invitation, and the intensity of her desire for her boss caught her off guard. Her cheeks heated, and she looked away, desperate for him not to see her blush.
Squaring her shoulders and hugging her tablet to her chest like a shield, she hurried forward with quick, sure steps. Gianpierre would talk to her this time. She’d make him.
As she neared, Gianpierre lifted an arm in preparation of waving someone over, but Luciana countered with a stern, “Sir.” His attention shifted to her and she stepped close, so close that for him not to acknowledge her would require him to be bluntly rude. “Sir,” she said again.
“It’s fine—” he said at the same time that she said, “There’s been a development in the catacombs.”
“What?” Gianpierre asked, his brows lifting.
“Paolo discovered a room behind a blocked entrance. The room might be full of dirt and debris, or it might be open and susceptible to cave in. It needs further evaluation.”
“Paolo!” Gianpierre called out, lifting his gaze to look out over Luciana’s head.
Luciana was tempted to raise up onto the tips of her work boots to make it harder for him to see past her but resisted the urge. “Paolo is already down in the catacombs, sir.”
Gianpierre leveled a cool gaze on her as she used the word “sir” yet again.
She cleared her throat. “Gianpierre,” she corrected and then felt her cheeks heat again. The magnetic pull of his bright blue eyes on her made her memory flash with seeing him naked… gloriously naked. His lean body had been perfection, and the muscles that were hinted at beneath his clothes had not been a lie. If he had been crafted out of clay by a master’s hands, he could not have been any more handsome and virile. “I will take you down into the catacombs to him.”
“No.”
Luciana’s head bobbed backward and her eyes went wide with surprise.
“You have a young child to go home to. You will not go below with me. You do not belong there.”
Luciana’s mouth fell open, and then she found her voice. “Sir,” she said, purposely stressing the word, “I will do my job and this is my job. There are time schedules to discuss as well as materials, not to mention inspectors to be postponed.”