Page 22 of Casanova LLC

“I’m afraid not.” She turned back to him. “Forgive me for not taking time that night to?—”

“No, Signora.” He clutched his heart. “It is you who must forgive me. Such a big night for you. I was an interloper. Not even officially invited. My nephew is the one who should be scolded.” The look he flicked my way did just that.

“Well, it’s lovely to properly meet you. And your boat is truly exquisite. Where did you get it?”

Jacopo waved his finger. “Scusate, but she is made from these hands.” He held them out as if to lure her to him.

“No.”

“Sì.” Out puffed his chest. “Five years. This week, I finish.”

The nicer he was to her, the more uncomfortable I became. I knew his charm as well as my own. Hell, I’d cribbed it from him.

She scooted around to the other side of the bow, taking in more of the boat. When she disappeared from view, Jacopo took the opportunity to level a look at me. This one wasn’t a flick. This one took its time to land. And land it did. That parental glare that stops a child from doing whatever they are doing, or are about to do, or even thinking about doing.

“The brass!” she swooned. “Unbelievable. Those hands of yours are very talented.” She came back to both of us. “You’ve done to this boat what your nephew does to a canvas. Artistic ability obviously runs in the family.”

“Sì.” He chuckled, so charming. “That and stupidity, Bella.” He turned to me. “Mostly stupidity.”

I faked a chuckle of my own. “I’m going to get her settled. It’s been a long travel day.”

“Of course. Andate, andate!”

“I’d love to see the inside before I leave. If possible.”

“It would only upset me if you did not see it.” He bowed slightly, laying it on thick.

I smiled benignly at him. There was a conversation coming and we both knew it. But for now, I brought my palm to the small of her back and guided her forward, toward the door at the front of the garage that led to the androne, wheeling her bags. She exchanged a final beam and wave with Jacopo.

When I closed the door behind us, I sighed in relief and nudged her farther into the androne.

The street-side wall, straight ahead, was bricked, and a small fountain sat against it, burbling away. The doors to the left led to the Grand Canal dock and the windowed doors to the right opened onto the courtyard garden. But in the middle, the androne opened up like an atrium. A winding marble staircase spiraled upward four stories. She walked right over to it, gawking. Her head went back, dropping her jaw. After a long moment, she spun back to look at me. “How does this exist?”

Her awe felt personal to me. As if she were looking at one of my paintings. “There was a time when you couldn’t give these places away.”

“The upkeep must be—” she cut herself off, probably figuring it was gauche to speak of money. But I didn’t mind.

“A small fortune. Even when nothing goes catastrophically wrong.”

She ran a hand over the staircase’s stone banister. “I can imagine. But you don’t only live here. You get to be her guardian.”

I gave her a teasing smile. “Her? It’s a she?”

“Something you enjoy but also care for?” She shrugged coyly. “Everything you give you get back tenfold?”

I left her bags and stepped toward her.

She boldly met my gaze. “I think it’s quite a beautiful relationship, actually.”

“Do you?”

“I do.”

The want in her eyes was unmistakable. So I bent my head to hers.

And she stepped away so quickly that I found myself literally stumbling forward.

Her hand went to her mouth, her eyes wide. “Sorry! I just—I wasn’t expecting that.”

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