He leaned down and brushed a kiss over her cheek before he whispered in her ear, “Grazie, tesoro. For dinner. For being here.”
She swallowed and opened her mouth as if she was about to speak, but just then, Ben barreled into the kitchen.
“Awesome, tacos—” And then. “— Ew, are those tomatoes?”
Chapter Eight
Long Beach, California
December 2009
The lights of the three-tiered yacht glowed in the harbor as Giovanni and Beatrice were ferried out in the small white boat. Don Ernesto Alvarez had spent his mortal and immortal life in the accumulation of wealth, power, and influence and had no qualms about enjoying and sharing that wealth with those he favored.
“So, the water vampire lives on a yacht, huh?” she leaned toward Giovanni and whispered.
“No need to be intimidated, tesoro, but do be careful.”
“See, those two statements seem like they contradict each other to me, Gio.”
He chuckled and slipped an arm around her, warming her when she shivered. She relaxed into his side and allowed herself to enjoy the simple comfort of his touch.
He’d been careful with her the past weeks, respecting the fact that she still grieved the loss of her relationship with Mano. No matter his own feelings, he had respected hers and was showing an extraordinary amount of patience.
And that, more than anything, softened the brittle wall she’d put up to protect herself.
It would have been as easy as breathing to fall into his arms. She knew he loved her and wanted her, but Beatrice also knew she was past the point in her life where she would jump head first into a situation she knew little about. She had been cautious six years ago; she was even more wary now.
Giovanni claimed he wanted her. Not just for this life, but for eternity. She was still trying to wrap her mind around the idea; what he was asking wasn’t a decision she could make lightly.
“Señorita De Novo, Señor Vecchio, welcome aboard,” the dark haired steward called down in greeting when they came alongside the anchored cruiser. They climbed up the large angled ladder that dipped toward the water, and she felt Giovanni’s hand on the small of her back as she climbed. She was slightly unsteady on her feet, but she felt him behind her, steadying her legs as she climbed.
“I feel like I’m underdressed,” she muttered, eyeing the formally dressed steward.
He chuckled and pinched her leg. “I told you to wear your boots.”
“Haha. All the same, with this ladder I’m sure glad I didn’t wear a skirt.”
“I’m not,” she heard him grumble.
“Oh really? Want me to share the view with all the boys in the boat below?”
She looked down to see one of the crewmen on the small boat wink at her. Beatrice snickered and Giovanni glanced over his shoulder to see the man quickly busy himself coiling rope.
“Fair point, tesoro. Skirts for my eyes only, if you please.”
Beatrice rolled her eyes and continued climbing. Normally, she would consider his possessive behavior annoying, but in the unknown situation she was putting herself into, it was more comforting than anything else.
“Tesoro mio,” Giovanni called from below, “can we hurry up a bit?”
“Why? You getting grey down there, professor?”
She squeaked when she felt him grab her by the waist and pull her into an embrace as he scooted up next to her. She clung to his neck and he shimmied up the ladder to the teak deck above. He held onto her a bit longer than necessary and bent down to murmur in her ear.
“It was getting hard to resist the temptation to sink my teeth in your thigh when I was staring at it for so long.”
Her breath caught, her temperature shot up, and her heart raced at the rough sound of his voice. She made an effort to calm down so she didn’t meet her great-great-however many great-grandfather completely turned on by her…whatever Giovanni was.
Beatrice saw two scantily clad women strolling along the deck; both of them shot Giovanni a look as they passed. He was dressed in surprisingly casual clothes that evening, though his dark jeans and black button-down shirt did nothing to detract from his good looks. The women swayed their hips as they walked past, but he didn’t even glance at them. Instead, he held his hand out, searching for her own.
Whatever Giovanni was, she was beginning to realize he was most certainly hers.
She flushed when she realized she was more than a little possessive herself. The steward, who had been chatting with Giovanni in soft Italian, escorted them from the boat landing and up the stairs toward the decks above.
“Wow, how big is this thing?” she asked.
“The Esmeralda is over four hundred feet long, Señorita De Novo. It has forty cabins, twenty of which are interior and secured for our immortal guests.”
“Does Don Ernesto live here full time?”
The man smiled enigmatically, and she sensed she wouldn’t be getting a straight answer. “He stays here when it suits him.”
“Okay then,” she murmured as Giovanni slipped an arm around her waist. They left the stairwell and walked across a broad deck leading to what sounded like a party. In the distance, the lights of the Long Beach Pike glistened and she could see the giant Ferris wheel turn as families enjoyed Friday night at the pier.
There was a sudden gust of wind, and she pulled her leather riding jacket close to her body, tucking herself under Giovanni’s shoulder. She felt the heat begin to radiate off him when he sensed her shiver.