A Weekend of Misbehaving (2 page)

“Make yourself at home,” Lorenzo said as he opened the door for the sixty-year-old woman and motioned to the living room.

“You have kids?” She pointed at the picture of Cara, and at last he saw a genuine smile touch her lips.
Phew
.

“One. Cara is nine. She’s at a camp now.”

“I see.”

The parrot squeaked, and she strolled to the cage. She trailed the wrought-iron cage confining the bird, her fingers gliding over the metal. “It’s a lovebird, isn’t it?” Viola turned to him, her expression softening.

Was it? The only thing he knew was that Cara and her bubbly, chatty nanny had insisted he let them keep it, and he’d caved. “Nibbles.” He stared at the subject of Viola’s fascination.

She stretched her fingers into the large cage, and Nibbles flew to her, opening and closing his green wings, then shook his orange head.

If Lorenzo had known that a cheap bird was the path to her good graces, he’d have sent her the noisy thing months ago. First class.

“Would you like some tea or coffee?”

“Coffee. Do you mind if I look around?” She focused her attention on his art. A few oil canvases stretched over a sizable part of his living area wall, the strong yet subtle strokes of pastel colors portraying a remote landscape.

“Please do. I’ll be right back.”

Coffee. Coffee. He dashed for the kitchen and turned on the espresso machine. How lucky had he been to hear from his assistant that Viola Campello had popped up in Austin to close on a business deal? Lucky enough to hurry back from a business trip to New York City and torment her with emails until she agreed to meet him before taking off again.

A splashing sound got his attention. He pulled up the blinds.

Porca miseria.
He stepped closer to the glass door, shoving the electric blinds out of his way. He could make out the shape of a woman inside the pool. She came up for air, and he watched her as she pulled her long dark hair from her face.

He’d heard of teenagers dipping into neighbors’ units during the summer months, but who could have had access to his penthouse on the top floor? If she were a burglar, she had her priorities dead wrong, given his valuable assets. The woman swam to the shallowest part, and he stepped forward until the glass pressed against his leg. She moved around without a care in the world.

His chest tightened, and he reached to loosen his tie. The shadows were a double-edged sword, hiding her face, yet outlining her generously curvy figure. Her wet hair tumbled around her broad shoulders, and his libido stirred as his eyes trailed down her smooth back to the dimples above her round, luscious buttocks. An extra layer of flesh filled her in, her delicious form pulling him back to the Renaissance era, where thigh gaps weren’t allowed. Botticelli would paint her until his fingers cramped and body ached. Kristin had always insisted on crazy cleansing diets, despite his protests that a man liked curves.

He shook his head and turned around. Lack of sex was clearly making him delusional. He’d witnessed a mirage, nothing more. No way could there be a naked woman in his pool. The espresso machine beeped, and he scooped the small cup from it. Opening the drawer to retrieve a couple napkins, another splash reverberated in his ears. This time, louder.

He dashed to the glass wall again, and the coffee swirled from the cup, a good amount spraying on his Emergenildo Zegna suit jacket.
Merda
. Placing the cup on the dark oak table, he removed the jacket and checked for stains on his white shirt. Thankfully, it hadn’t seeped through.

Yanking his gaze from his shirt and back to the woman, he watched her reach the border of the pool. He swallowed. Hard.

Alice?
The nanny?
Mio Dio!

A chill went down his spine. He hurried to the guest bathroom and grabbed a towel from the linen closet.
If Viola sees her…
what would she think of him? A man who let his employee skinny-dip in her spare time?
Oh no.
He had it on good authority that Viola’s ex had cheated on her with the family’s longtime nanny. This was not good.

Marching to the living area, his blood pounded harder. When he scanned the empty sofas and the open balcony doors, he touched his temples—a stubborn throb was about to pop his vein.

He reached the balcony. Viola stood frozen, her hand on her chest, red lips parted.

He followed her gaze, and there she was, in her bare flesh: Alice. The nanny covered her arms over her body, her elbows barely hiding her nipples from view as her hands dropped in a V to conceal her—

Alice shook her wet hair out of her face. “Crap. I’m so sorry.”

Lorenzo coughed and blinked out of the temporary trance. Walking along the border of the pool, he handed her the towel and was about to turn around to give her privacy when Viola straightened her shoulders and spun on her heels.

“I’ll leave the coffee for another time.” Her acidy voice told a different story. He could kiss his father’s paintings good-bye.

He heard the sound of droplets of water falling down the stone walkway and didn’t need to turn to see Alice fumbling with the towel. She gripped the hem of the oversize Egyptian-cotton fabric and wrapped herself like a Cuban cigar.

“Mr. B, I thought you were supposed to come back tomorrow morning. I can go and explain…” she rushed to say, with flushed cheeks and wide brown eyes.

“As in, what was my nanny—the woman I pay to watch my daughter—doing naked in my pool?” He let out a sigh and softened his tone. “You can’t be my employee.” He drew his fingers through his hair.
So who is she, then?
“I’ll tell her we’re a couple.”

Alice gasped. “What?”

“Look, just go with it… Okay?”

She responded with a nod, and he raised his eyebrow at her compliance. With a head gesture, he motioned for her to follow him.

Managing to grab her dress from the ground and slip it on over her towel, Alice matched his footfalls, even though he was a good foot taller than her. Ideally, she should have gone in and gotten dressed, but as the sound of heels on his polished floor reverberated through the penthouse apartment, he didn’t care. If he didn’t reach Viola fast, she would be out the door and out of his life—and with her, the chance to become the man he was predestined to be. The man his late wife always swore he couldn’t become without her help. It didn’t matter she was no longer by his side and hadn’t been even before her death. Even without her blue-blood contacts, he had succeeded—and he’d let nothing jeopardize it.

“Viola.” He cleared his throat.

Viola came to a halt, only a few steps from the front door.

“I’m very sorry for what you just saw.”

She clamped her lips, then shook her head. “Lorenzo, I don’t care about your bachelor lifestyle. What you do on your own time is your business. But what I witnessed was highly unprofessional by any account. Your…lady friend, well, you know—”

“I’m not—” Alice started behind him.

“She’s not a lady friend. This is Alice, my fiancée.” He raised his voice to give the last word some reverence. “Alice didn’t know I was bringing someone home. And she wanted to surprise me.”

“Well, it’s safe to say she achieved her goal.” Viola cocked her head, sizing up Alice.

“I can’t believe you just told her we’re engaged!” Alice nudged his elbow, and sourness spread in his stomach. Was she going to call him out? “It was supposed to be a secret, silly,” she continued, walking in front of him. “I’m not wearing a ring yet because we’re waiting until Cara is comfortable with the idea to make it public. She’s just a little girl, and we want to ensure she’s okay with it.”

Viola nodded. “It’s nice you think of your daughter, but—”

“It’s still awkward.” Alice blushed and pulled the hem of her dress. “I totally get where you’re coming from. I could tell you I’m not a slutty airhead who does this every day, but how could you be sure? Except I’m not. A slut or an airhead. Though I guess women calling each other those names is sexist and wrong. Right? Sorry. I have the tendency to ramble when I’m nervous,” she said, standing next to the cage. The bird hopped to the door till his beak peeked between the metal bars. “Nibbles, why didn’t you warn me? I thought we had a deal, buddy.” Alice opened the cage door and let the bird jump onto her finger.

Viola took a step forward. “You like birds?” There was a trace of surprise in her voice.

“I love them, although I’m probably losing my cool badge by admitting to it.” Alice let the bird hop onto her shoulder. “My father hooked me on birds. If he were alive today, I’m sure he’d be writing blogs about them. I was the one who pestered Lorenzo to adopt this cutie.” Alice looked up and elbowed him. “Wasn’t I?”

Lorenzo nodded enthusiastically.
Christ, she’s good.

Viola smiled. “Usually I see lovebirds in pairs.”

“I told Lorenzo they aren’t meant to be alone.” Alice sighed. “Trust me, it was hard enough to convince him to get this one. I’m learning to pick my battles.”

Lorenzo smoothed his hand over his shirt. He watched as Viola’s facial expression shifted. “That’s wise when it comes to men, I guess. But don’t give in too much.”

“Never.” Alice lifted her chin, the smile reaching her eyes.

Silently, Viola made the smallest turn of her head. A smile tipped at the corner of her lips, and Lorenzo imagined his potential seller was giving Alice a sort of approval that was from a female-only club. “You know, I have a bird sanctuary at my beach house,” she told Alice, like Lorenzo wasn’t even in the room.

“That’s awesome.” Alice petted Nibble’s beak, her purple nail polish glittering against him.

“Maybe one day we’ll have one, too,
tesoro mio
.” Lorenzo cleared his throat and winked at Alice.

A shade of red spread through her cheeks, and she worried her bottom lip. Damn, the woman was a great actress. How come he’d never noticed her hidden talents? Hidden? He caught a glimpse of her damp hard nipple pushing through her dress. The image of her naked stabbed at his mind, but he shook his head and willed it away. For the past year, Alice had been the glue keeping his family life together. He’d been going to New York City more and more, and had recently made the decision to move there within the next few weeks. She, of course, would come with him. He’d make her an offer she couldn’t refuse.

“Wouldn’t that be a dream, honey?” Alice worried her lip, her eyes sparkling at him.

Viola’s gaze ping-ponged between the two of them, then she smiled. “Maybe you can see mine.”

“Are you for real? I’d love to see it,” Alice responded, but she kept her eyes pinned to Lorenzo.

A tingle ran through him like a high-speed rail. Who knew the adrenaline of pretending could be this…enticing?

“I’m hosting a weekend-long event to celebrate the finalization of my divorce and also tie up some loose ends. I have another dealer interested in my collection, of course, and he might join us, too. Either way, I want to make the right decision. I didn’t fight for those beautiful paintings to let just anyone handle them. It’s not about money for me.”

Another dealer? He couldn’t let anyone else anywhere near those paintings. “Of course not.” He turned his attention to Viola and hoped she could read right through him how much he needed this. “Art is more than money for me, it’s what I breathe. It’s who I am.” Who he was… He swallowed hard to prevent a mocking laugh. The irony. If she only knew…

Viola assessed him like she was seeing him again for the first time. “Fair enough. Well then, come for the weekend, and we’ll see what happens. You and…” Viola turned to Alice. “What’s your name again, dear?”

Alice put Nibbles back in the cage and closed it behind her. “Alice Sommers.”

“You and Alice Sommers.” Viola offered her hand, and Alice took it. “Nice to meet you.”

Lorenzo inhaled all the oxygen available in the room. “
Grazie
. We’re looking forward to it.”

“This way you can go over your plans for the paintings, and, well, we can discuss everything.” She headed to the main door. “I’ll be waiting for you this weekend in Capri. My assistant will call you with all the details. We’re having costume parties, and you will need to dress accordingly.
Arrivederci
.”

Viola’s strong perfume lingered even after Lorenzo had closed the door. He turned to Alice.

“Well, that could have gone a lot worse, right?” she said, her fidgeting hands sweeping over the fabric of her dress.

Beneath the damp dress and the towel…she was naked. How inappropriate and…enticing. A wave of heat poured through his chest. He looked away. He’d seen her as nothing but a reliable nanny the past year, and that’s how it had to remain. Having no family in this country and with a crazy schedule, he needed Alice and her somewhat unorthodox yet warm style of caring for his daughter to pursue his dream and abandon himself in work. Jeopardizing that would be beyond stupid. It’d be fatal.

“Which part? When you almost ran off a prospect I’d been working on for the longest time, or when you agreed to go to Capri together under the assumption we’re about to get married?”

She fixed her dress. “Calling me your fiancée was your idea.”

The warmth from his chest arrowed down his body, and he paced to shake himself loose from the intrusive surge. He didn’t have time for this crap.

Undoing his top button, he felt a trickle of sweat forming on his neck and spreading down his back. He toyed with another button. He needed to call the concierge and have someone take a look at his unit. The air conditioning was clearly not working.

Alice crossed her arms and then uncrossed them. “W-what are you doing? Are you taking your clothes off?” The vein in her soft neck pulsed.

“No.” He came to a halt and faced her. “Why would I do that?”

“Who knows?” She threw her hands in the air. “Maybe you want to get even, since you saw me naked.” A cheeky glint flared in her chestnut eyes.

Taking a step toward her, he pushed the words out. “You should be ashamed.”

Her eyebrows flung almost to her hairline, and she jerked back like he had punched her. “Of my body? Why?”