“I think so.”
There was another knock at the door. He ignored it. “Would you paint for me? Try?”
“Sure Giovanni. Pass me a paint brush and I’ll give it a whirl.” She teased. Her gaze switched beyond him. “There’s someone at the door.”
“Fuck them.” He ran his hand down her shoulder and arm. “I like these dresses. What are they called?”
“Dresses?” she kidded.
“You know what I mean. The way it wraps around your curves and ties on the side. It’s the second one you’ve worn. I like it.”
She took a step closer. “Why? Because you like to take it off me?”
He nodded. The knocking began again. “Maybe you should answer the door.”
He groaned but agreed. The visitor was probably from the kitchen delivering dinner. He yanked the doors open to find Dominic standing before him. Giovanni narrowed his gaze. “What is it now?”
“Trouble. I need to see you downstairs. It can’t be avoided.”
“Fuck!” he turned. Mira again was before the bookshelf. He nodded. “Give me a minute.” He closed the door.
“Let me guess, you have to go?”
“Not far, just downstairs. Why don’t you get comfortable? They’ll bring your dinner.”
She rocked on her feet with her hands clasped before her. “I understand. I’ll read.”
He chuckled. “Very funny. You’re welcome to explore.”
“I can wait for you,” she winked. “I’d rather a personal tour.”
Giovanni rubbed his jaw again admiring her shapely figure in her wrap around dress. He prayed she packed a suitcase full of them. They flattered her beauty so much. “I won’t be long, and this will be the last interruption of the night.”
“Don’t make promises you can’t keep.”
He winked. Once in the hall he felt another pang of guilt over abandoning his guest so soon. Silly as it sounded, he needed time with her, and time was never a friend to him. He hurried down the stairs and turned left for the gathering room toward the back of his place. He found Dominic pacing. Alone. Curious he walked in concerned. “What is it?”
“Got off the phone with our contact in Genoa.”
“And?”
“Giuseppe Calderone is dead. They found his car abandoned atLe Scogliere. There’s blood in the trunk, lots of it. Also his gun and shoes.”
Giovanni stuck his hands in the pockets of his pants. “A hit?”
“Angelo’s kicking up a fuss; he’s making accusations. Don Calderone has suffered a stroke.”
“Shit.” Giovanni paced.
“All his men are out on this one. Lake Como is being ripped apart. Families dragged from their homes in the middle of the night. Two have already been executed. The old man is letting Angelo call the orders on this one. They haven’t found the body, but when they do...”
“You have concerns? They’ll look my way?”
“Giovanni. Lorenzo and Giuseppe have been seen quite a bit together in the past few years. Between Genoa and Bellagio, many have questioned their casual friendliness.”
“Lorenzo wouldn’t do this and not warn me.”
“I haven’t found anything to connect him. But there is a weak link in Calderone’s family. Do you remember Fish?” Dominic asked. “He’s Giuseppe’s flunky trying to make the ranks. If Lo and Giuseppe had any type of business or private feud Fish would know about it. With everything going on, I needed your approval before I make contact. I don’t think my snooping around now is in the best interest of the family. Should we let the dust settle or the body to surface?”