Swept Away by the Venetian Millionaire

Now who was the one disrespecting someone else’s privacy?

But what she was about to do wasn’t really intrusive at all, she reassured herself. Technically, Vito was a public figure. He probably even had a large commercial presence online. She just wanted to see some of his professional works. To find out how prominent he was as an artist.

The answer to that was abundantly clear within seconds as her search returned pages and pages of results. To call Vito successful was a woeful understatement. Turned out that his creations were some of the most sought-after artworks in the world. His clay sculptures were in particularly high demand throughout the European continent.

Maya physically thwacked her forehead hard enough that the skin actually stung along her hairline. She’d petulantly thrown a tantrum because a world-class sculptor had taken the time to render her likeness on paper. He must have thought her beyond childish. He probably also saw her as a completely ignorant fool. How many women would have been honored to be where she’d been?

Maya cursed under her breath and scrolled through several more pages. One article detailed the last renowned sculpture Vito had completed. The piece had sold for six figures at auction.

But something didn’t add up. That article was dated years ago. About three and a half years, to be more specific. Nothing was mentioned after that. As far as she could find from this search, Vito’s artwork hadn’t been covered for the last three years or so.

The bottom of the screen prompted another link: Rameri accident. Something made her hesitate a split second before she moved her fingers to click on it. When she finally did, she had to suck in a deep breath. The headlines that appeared were vastly different from the write-ups about his art. The more Maya read, the more her heart slowly bruised for the man she’d spent the afternoon with. The sadness behind his eyes was justified, it turned out. Far from being the carefree, internationally renowned artist she would have pegged him for, Vito Rameri had a sorrowful past.

The pages she read now only told of heartbreak and tragedy.

CHAPTER FOUR

THIS WASN’T GOING to be the easiest conversation. Maya slowly walked toward Vito’s studio, trying to summon the courage to say what she had to say. Best to just get it over with.

Yesterday the afternoon had been sunny and bright. Thank goodness for that, as she’d spent a considerable part of the day soaking wet. By contrast, that day’s weather was overcast and gray. She hoped it wasn’t any kind of indicator of the reception she was about to get.

But she had to talk to Vito. She didn’t want his last impression of her to be one of a stubborn hothead storming out his door after he’d been nothing but kind and helpful to her.

When she reached the studio, she took a deep, fortifying breath before stepping inside. The man who stood up from behind the counter to greet her wasn’t Vito.

“Buongiorno, signorina.” He was tall and tan, with a wide smile and bright brown eyes. Upon closer inspection, Maya noted clear similarities between the two men. She wondered if they were related.

“I’m Leo Rameri,” he said with a friendly grin, confirming her suspicions. Same last name. My, the good looks clearly ran in the family. “How may I help you?”

“I was hoping to find—” But he didn’t let her finish.

“A readily available piece? I’m sorry. Vito has no inventory at the moment. I’d be happy to speak with you about a potential commission.” His lips suddenly grew tight before he continued. “Though, I have to be up front and tell you that he may or may not accept the project.”

He thought she was here as a potential patron. She didn’t get a chance to clarify the reason behind her visit before the door opened behind her. Maya didn’t need to turn around to know who’d just arrived. It was him. She could sense Vito’s presence.

“Maya? Is that you?”

Maya took a deep breath before turning to face him. If possible, he somehow looked even more handsome today. He was dressed much more casually in a soft white cotton shirt and khaki pants, and his hair wasn’t quite as casual. He’d combed it back off his face, lending him a rakish quality.

“You two know each other?” Leo asked from behind her.