Page 4 of Giorgio

She was not a party girl, never had been. Her brother was always the social animal, while she preferred to settle on the sofa with a riveting book and a glass of wine. The highlight of her life had always been her dad.

He was fun to talk to and had always been there to impart sound advice. He had been her sounding board and had instilled in her a confidence that allowed her to go through life with her head held high.

Now he was gone, and she was lost. She would no longer hear his rich and hearty laughter or hear him saying how proud he was of her.

Cancer had eaten away his vitality and zest for life and, at the end, she had found it very difficult to identify that gaunt and haggard frame to his once robust and jovial personality. Even though he had been racked by pain and barely able to smile, he had tried to be happy for her sake.

His suffering had been a source of agonizing distress to her and in the end, she was happy he was in a better place. But she missed him so much, it was like a palpable emptiness inside her very soul.

Losing Jeremy had not made much of an impact on her life and she had told her brother the truth where that was concerned. He had been a lackluster and indifferent lover, and they had been hanging onto the relationship because of the familiarity of being with each other.

Slipping out of her jacket, she hung it on the coat tree just inside the doorway and made her way to the kitchen. She had promised her brother she would think about the trip and on the way home, she had done that. It would be good to get away.

Standing in the middle of the postage stamp room, she surveyed the peeling and dingy wallpaper and the plants dying on the windowsill. She had always been so diligent in tending to her plants, but over the past month, nothing had spiked her interest.

The suggestion Julian had made about going to live with him was out of the question. She loved her brother of course, they were very close, but she needed her own space. She was a veryprivate person and even though the apartment was nothing to write home about, it afforded her privacy.

Walking over to sit on one of the barstools, she folded her hands on the ceramic counter and felt the tears slipping down her cheeks.

Her beloved dad was gone, and she could not stand the idea of living in a world where he was no longer present.

She had no idea what she was going to do next, but maybe taking a trip to Italy would give her some perspective. Swiping at the tears, she jumped up and put the kettle on.

*****

“Darling, you are very quiet.”

Giorgio had to stir himself to pay attention to the woman next to him. He had decided against going to watch the game and made a phone call. It had taken just that to be invited over.

But the lovemaking had lacked the usual spontaneity and after a few minutes, he had automatically brought her to a climax, with no real interest in achieving one. And he was certainly not in the mood for conversation.

“I apologize,” he told her with a faint smile, “I have a lot on my mind.” The conversation with his father had put him in a very bad mood and had him thinking.

“Why don’t I try and change that?” She asked sultrily, fingers tangling with his dense dark chest hairs. Her name was Elena, and they had been on again, off again lovers.

He had called her because she was one of the few women who never expect anything he was not willing to give. Which made their coupling perfect. Giorgio was European and sex to him was as natural as breathing. He was never with two women at the same time, well, not anymore.

While he was in college and there was an occasion at Cambridge when he had indulged in menage a’ trois, but he was older now and preferred to lavish his attention on one woman at a time.

He was an excellent lover, it was not a boast, he had been having sex since he was thirteen and perfected the skill. He was also very attentive and made the woman he was with feel as if she was the only one. He made sure to let them know beforehand that they were just having fun with no strings attached.

He was aware that he was Italian royalty and quite a catch, but his father had drummed it into his head about practicing safe sex. He had heeded the warning and was never without his cache of prophylactics.

He drew the line at having a child out of wedlock. His position in life had been etched in stone. He was Giorgio Armani Russo, heir to a vast fortune and he was never able to forget it.

“I am afraid it is not possible.” Gently extricating himself from her clinging arms, he swung his long legs off the rumpled satin sheets, which smelled of her perfume and body fluids. He needed a shower, but that would have to wait until he was home.

He had been ordered to be home for supper and as much as he resented obeying that order, he was disinclined to upset his father any more than he already was.

“Darling, I was hoping you would stay the night.” Her pout was alluring, and no doubt practiced but did nothing for him.

“Another time perhaps.” He dragged on his dress pants and reached for his silk sweater. Striding over to the bed, he bent far enough to take her pouty lips in a searing kiss, evading her grasping arms, his charming smile in place. “I will let myself out.”

Chapter 2

The atmosphere around the small informal dining table was stilted and distinctly uncomfortable. Giorgio’s resentment of being summoned first to the office and now to supper had spilled over and he was still seething.

He had dressed for the occasion, choosing slim tailored black pants and a cream cashmere sweater that threw his tan into stark contrast. His hair was well groomed and brushed away from his broad intelligent forehead.

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