Some Like It Hotter (Sweet Life in Seattle #3) (10 page)

By noon the next day, Lindsay’s still in the creative zone, hard at work, a cup of cold coffee by her side. She’s piecing an elaborate beadwork pattern into an outer clay mask and is so involved she doesn’t even notice there’s an Asgardian mountain standing in her open doorway until it speaks.

“So, you really are an artist.”

She looks up, an unwanted jolt of pleasure running through her at the sight of Giovanni. “What on Earth are
you
doing here?”

He doesn’t reply but walks over the threshold toward her. He’s wearing tan corduroy pants, a gray T-shirt, and brown shoes that appear to be a cross between sneakers and loafers.

Her eyes linger on his wide shoulders, indulging before they progress downward. He’s big, but not lumbering like some large men she’s known. He moves with sure-footed ease.

Those muscular thighs are calling her name.

Unfortunately, she was weak-willed this morning and had another vibrator sex fantasy about him.

“I thought I’d stop by and say hello. You’re the only friend I have in Berlin.”

“I’m not your friend.”

“Family, then.”

She turns back to working on her mask and doesn’t bother hiding her irritation. “I told you to have a great life, remember?”

“I remember.”

“So, go away and live it.”

He ignores her rudeness and comes closer, wandering around the large space near the front windows where she works. “I didn’t even notice all this last night.” He picks up an origami elephant, studies it for a moment, and seems pleased by it. There’s a whole menagerie of origami animals she’s created, lined up like they’re ready to board Noah’s Ark.

He puts the elephant down and takes in the rest of the space. “This is a real artist’s studio.”

“Don’t act so surprised. I already told you I’m an artist.” She turns her sculpting table a little to get the angle she needs then locks it in place again.

“An artist who plays poker.”

She tries to stay focused on the project at hand, but can’t help her annoyance. “So what? For your information, my sculptures are in galleries internationally. I’ve also had commissions from both the public and private sector.”

“No need to give me your Curriculum Vitae. I believe you.” Next he wanders over to the wall where two of her masks are hanging and examines the first one. The outer face is a wolf. He lifts the hinge to see the true face is that of a little girl. “These are interesting.”

She acts nonchalant, but when he doesn’t offer more, can’t resist asking, “Why do you say that?”

“I like the symbolism. One face for the outer world, one for the inner self.”

Lindsay nods her approval that he gets it.

“I’ve always found masks to be fascinating,” he continues. “Historically, they were like an early form of plastic surgery. People used masks to hide deformities—not just for the face, but the body too. There’s evidence of it dating back thousands of years.”

She picks up her cold coffee and takes a sip.

“Are all your sculptures masks?”

“No.” She puts the cup down, realizing she should be polite and offer Giovanni something, but doesn’t. “This is the first time I’ve made any.”

“Why did you choose masks, then?”

She shrugs. “I don’t know. They sort of chose me.”

He’s still studying them, and she can’t stop herself from studying him, admiring his rear view. The way his pants hug his body in all the right places. The way his back muscles move beneath his T-shirt. Her eyes greedily roam over him, taking his measurement. When it dawns on her that she’s only memorizing him for future sex fantasies, she tries to stop.

“What exactly are you doing here?” she asks, irritated with herself, though she still hasn’t stopped staring. His thighs look every bit as good from the back as they do from the front.
And
we won’t even discuss that ass.

When he turns to her, his blue eyes are intelligent—too intelligent. Giovanni doesn’t miss much, and she can’t decide whether she likes this quality about him or if it bothers her. She’s used to dealing with men who are easier to manipulate.

“I’ve decided there’s a price for my silence,” he tells her.

“A price?”

Her first thought is he wants something sexual from her. Even though it’s absurd and she’d never agree to it, a small part of her—the part that’s been using him as vibrator fantasy material—suddenly perks up and wags its tail.

“Now that I’m your poker accomplice,” he continues.

She gives him a saucy look. “What is it you’d like me to do?”

His licks his lower lip, and there’s the hint of a smile on his face. “It’s not what you’re thinking.”

“I’m sure it’s not.”

Giovanni is quiet and appears to be wrestling with a dilemma.

For a second, Lindsay wonders if he really does want sex.
Wouldn’t that be something?

Of course, I’d say no.

Her eyes drift down toward his thighs again, but she forces them back up.

“I’d like you to show me around Berlin today,” he informs her, leaning against the table and folding his arms.

“Like a tour guide?”

“Exactly like a tour guide.”

“Um, I know Dagmar offered you that, but as you may recall, I didn’t.”

“I don’t care what Dagmar offered.”

Lindsay blows her breath out. “Seriously, you’d be better off going on a tour without me. I don’t speak German very well, and there are lots of great tours that can show you the city and tell you the history.”

His expression grows impatient. “I already know all that, but I want
you
to show me the city.”

“What makes you think I even know where to take you?”

“You’ve been here three months. Surely you’ve done some sightseeing.” He frowns at her. “Haven’t you?”

“I guess.”

“Great, then you can show me around today.”

“Why?”

“Because that’s my price.” He unfolds his arms. “Take it or leave it, Lindsay.”

“You’re completely serious, aren’t you?”

His eyes flicker down over her camisole and low-slung jeans, both of which are covered with clay. She notices they linger a little on her bare midriff. “Go take a shower and get ready. I’ll wait for you.”

She bristles at his bossy tone. “Look, I haven’t agreed to any of this. I happen to be in the middle of a project right now.”

He appears to think it over. “On second thought, I’m going to leave for a short while. I saw a Starbucks down the block.”

“Are you hearing a word I’m saying? I’m not going anywhere with you!”

“If you want my silence you’ll do exactly as I tell you.” He heads toward the door. “Now, get ready while I get us some coffee.”

“Hey, maybe you could also go
fuck yourself
. Better yet, go find an espresso machine and fuck that!”

There’s a smirk on his face as he glances over his shoulder at her. “Stop pouting. I expect you to be showered and dressed when I get back.”

The first place Giovanni wants to go is the Reichstag, the city’s most famous government building, and the seat of Germany’s modern parliament. On the way there, he asks her about the tour offered, but Lindsay tells him she’s never been to the Reichstag. He seems surprised, and when he asks her about a few other historical places he has in mind to visit, she tells him she’s never been to any of those either.

He stares at her in amazement. “What have you been doing here this whole time?”

“I came to Berlin for the art, not to look at government buildings,” she grumbles.

The truth is she hasn’t done a whole lot of sightseeing, at least not the normal kind. The kind that doesn’t involve shops, nightclubs, and casinos. And galleries, of course. She’s seen a lot of museums and art galleries, because happily, Berlin has tons of those.

The Reichstag is crowded when they arrive, and they mingle with the other tourists, barely saying two words to each other. She has to admit the building is impressive, with its imperial front and modern dome behind it. A part of her is glad she came, and she realizes she should have come sooner.

Not that this stops her from being pissed at him for forcing her to leave her studio. She glares at him every chance she gets.

“Are you always this childish?” he has the nerve to ask as they wait in line for the audio tour of the building’s dome.

Lindsay throws her hands up. “Are you fucking kidding me? I don’t even know what I’m doing here!”

“You’re giving me a tour of Berlin.”

She looks pointedly at the guidebook in his hand—the one he picked up while he was out getting coffee. “It’s clear you don’t need me. And obviously, I haven’t been to half the places in that book.”

“I can’t believe you’ve been living in Berlin for three months and haven’t done even the most basic sightseeing. That makes no sense.”

She shrugs and tosses her hair over her shoulder. “You have your sightseeing and I have mine.”

“You should thank me for dragging you out here today.”

“Of course
you’d
say that. At least you admit you dragged me” She continues with her glaring. “Did it even occur to you to ask me if I wanted to come along?”

“You would have said no.”

“That’s right, I would have.”

“And that’s why I didn’t ask.”

She nods. “I see, so you prefer blackmail?”

He gives her a long, measured stare before turning away. “Go then. Leave. I won’t say anything.”

Lindsay studies his Norse warrior profile—handsome, but fierce. And then she remembers the way he was with her the other night. The weariness in his gaze. The hungry way he looked at her after she kissed him. A tiny part of her softens.

“Forget it, I’m staying,” she tells him. “I’ve already wasted thirty minutes of my life in this stupid line, so I’m taking that audio tour.”

He glances at her from the corner of his eye, and she’s pretty sure he’s trying to hide a smile.

After they finish the Reichstag, Giovanni decides they should head over to the Brandenburg Gate, one of the city’s most famous landmarks. At least this is one part of Berlin she has been to a lot since it’s not far from Museum Island, one of her favorite areas to spend an afternoon.

“The pictures of this place don’t do it justice.” He looks upward, admiring the gate’s elaborate stone structure. “It’s impressive. Just think of all that’s happened here.”

“It’s even better at night when it’s lit up.”

“Really? Maybe we should come back.”

She doesn’t answer, unsure whether she wants to commit to that. Still following his lead, they head toward Unter den Linden.

A kid’s ball rolls in front of them as they stroll down the picturesque avenue. There’s no apparent owner, and Giovanni stops to pick it up.

“I wonder whose it is?” Lindsay considers the blue and white-striped ball.

A moment later, a little boy about five comes running up. He halts with large eyes when he sees them.

“It looks like we’ve found the owner,” Giovanni says with a grin.

She watches in amazement then as he drops the ball on his foot and starts bouncing it around like she’s seen soccer players do. His whole stern demeanor changes as he playfully bounces the ball back and forth so it doesn’t touch the ground.