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Swept Away by the Venetian Millionaire

Page 4

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That did it. Vito couldn’t hold it in any longer. A small chuckle escaped him before he could stop it. She whirled on him with such force, he thought she might topple over again.

“You think this is funny, do you?”

Her golden hazel eyes blazed bright with fury. Fury directed at him.

“I’m sorry, miss. I certainly did not mean to laugh at you.”

She continued to glare at him, despite his apology. The gondolier had apparently heard enough. Without another word, he jumped back onto his vessel and began to pole away. All too hurriedly, Vito thought.

The man had essentially just left him alone with this wet, tipsy American woman.

A woman who looked very good in wet clothes that clung to her skin. Vito gave himself a mental shake. Where had that wayward thought come from?

“You didn’t answer my question,” he reminded her.

“What question?”

“Are you all right? You didn’t hurt yourself or anything, did you?”

She rubbed a hand down her face. Vito watched as the anger suddenly seemed to just melt away from her. Replaced by something akin to total resignation. With a jolt of surprise, he realized that made him sad for some reason. He preferred her angry to defeated. As if it meant anything to him. He’d never laid eyes on the woman before.

“I’m okay,” she answered. “Just embarrassed,” she added, glancing to the crowd around them which hadn’t fully dispersed yet.

He waved a hand in dismissal. “Don’t give it a thought. People fall out of gondolas all the time in Venice,” he lied.

She studied him up and down. Her eyes really were stunning. A rich amber color that shouldn’t have worked at all with her dark olive skin tone. But somehow it served to lend her a rare and striking look that he couldn’t help but feel drawn to, given his artist’s instincts.

He couldn’t seem to tear his gaze from her eyes. He tried to look away to avoid staring at her face too long, but failed.

“Why don’t I believe you about that?” she wanted to know. The slightest hint of a smile graced her full, pink rosebud lips.

“Bene. Perhaps because I’ve just made it up.”

Her smile grew. “Nice try. You’re quite the gentleman. First you come to my rescue from a certain and tragic watery death. And now you’re trying to rescue my pride.” She glanced down at the soaking-wet fabric of the red shirt she wore. It now clung to her like a second skin and accentuated her feminine curves.

What in the world had gotten into him? When was the last time he’d noticed a woman’s curves? Certainly not in the last two or so years. Not since Marina’s accident.

An awkwardly silent beat ensued before she stretched out her hand. “Thank you, Signor...?”

“Rameri. Vittorio Rameri,” he supplied as he took her hand into his. Her skin felt surprisingly warm for someone who’d just taken a plunge in dirty water. “I’m often called Vito.”

“Hello, Vito. I’m Maya Talbot. From the great Commonwealth of Massachusetts. And I wish we hadn’t had this very mortifying meeting. Nothing personal,” she added after a pause, wringing out the tail of her shirt.

Oh, but he was so very glad that they had met. Damned if he could put his finger on exactly why that was so. He only knew that today was the first time in a long while that he’d felt drawn to study the features of a woman. He wanted to examine further the way the sunlight brought out the golden specks of her eyes, how the dampness of her hair took it to a dark shade of ebony that framed her delicate chin.

He wanted to think of how it would feel to sculpt what he was seeing before him. An instant desire to squash the urge rose in his chest. In his soul, he knew he wasn’t ready just yet. Not to handle clay.

“I suppose I better get going back to my hotel,” she said as he continued to stare. If she noticed the way he was looking at her, she was too polite to mention it.

“Are you alone?”

Her shoulders fell. The question seemed to deflate her even more. He found himself intrigued. What exactly was her story?

She shrugged and looked away before answering. “I’m afraid so. It’s just me. By myself. In one of the most romantic cities in the world. Go figure.”



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