Natasha was strangely silent beside him as Gianni drove through the Italian countryside. Her arms were crossed, her foot tapped nervously. Her face was turned away from him. She'd been staring out the window for hours.
"Who was she?" she asked quietly without turning to face him. "The woman?"
Gianni's voice was flat and emotionless. "My fiancé," he replied easily.
For a moment she was silent before turning to gaze at him. "Was? Did I –?"
He shook his head. "No. It was over long before I met you."
"Can I ask why?"
He smiled sardonically. "Our families didn't get along. It caused...stress."
"Oh." She said nothing else and resumed her silent pose, gazing out the window and endeavoring to ignore him completely.
"Don't you want to know where we're going?" He asked coaxingly.
She didn't face him. "Does it really matter?"
He sighed and didn't say more.
They reached Florence after a few hours and stopped in front of a large luxurious hotel.
'Go figure' Natasha thought.
They rode the elevator up to the penthouse suite. Natasha immediately walked into one of the two bedrooms and slammed the door.
Gianni went to the door and listened. He could hear her muffled sobs inside. He knocked softly. "Natasha?" The sobbing came to an abrupt stop and he slowly turned the handle. When he entered she was sitting up on the bed, her dark hair falling wildly about her shoulders. He approached quietly and sat on the edge of the bed. She watched him warily. "Natasha?" he reached for her and she flinched away.
She scrambled off the bed and snatched up the bedside lamp and held it threateningly. "Stay away from me." she said quietly.
Gianni stood holding up his hands. "Hey, Bella," he murmured soothingly. "What's wrong?"
"I saw the guns," she said, glaring at him.
He frowned and made a move towards her.
"Stay back!" she ordered.
"Natasha, I would never hurt you..." he said and held out his hand to her. "C'mon, Bella. Don't do this." In a move that she barely saw he reached across the space between them and knocked the lamp to shatter on the floor and she found herself inexplicably pinned against him, his arms tight around her.
"Get off!" She pushed him backwards with all her might and he fell against the bed.
He sat up. He grinned at her and gave her a slow sensuous assessing look. "You know you're sexy as all hell when you're angry. If you wanted me in bed you only had to ask. If you're willing to have at me again, i'm all for it."
All thoughts of escape flew from her mind. She was angry, and as of now there was no gun in sight. With an inarticulate cry of rage, Natasha lunged at him.
He cursed, moved quickly to grab her wrists, and rolled her beneath him. He placed his legs on either side of her twisting frame and leaned over to peer into her face.
She glared up at him.
"I'd never expect this from you, Bella." He chided. "What's wrong? You're safe with me." "Right." she snorted and spoke through clenched teeth. "And the guns are just for recreation. Get the fuck off me!"
Gianni blinked. "Ah Bella, " He leaned into her and rested more of his weight upon her and brought his face close to hers.
Natasha started and realized he was enjoying her struggles. The situation abruptly took on a new sort of tension. "Okay," she said, her tone dry. "Let me up."
He smile tilted his lips. "Ah, but Bella, you were so eager to jump on me."
He propped himself up on his elbows. "You just had to say you wanted me, Bella. No need to jump me."
She snarled at him. "Gianni, this isn't funny."
"Oh, I'll agree with you there. No, I don't feel like laughing at all." He brushed his lips against the underside of her jaw.
"Gianni, let me up." she tried to sound bored.
His eyes lit when he looked down at her. "Of course, baby. For a price."
Her eyes narrowed and she looked at him with suspicion. "What kind of price?"
His breath fanned against her lips. "Just a kiss."
She jerked her head away. "I don't think so. You've gotten enough of me."
"Just one small kiss." he insisted, his voice both chiding and coaxing at once.
Her brows knitted ominously as she hissed at him. "All I have to do is pick up the phone and my uncle—"
"We both know you won't, don't we?" He traced her lips with his thumb.
Natasha turned her face into the pillow but he gently turned her head and pressed his lips to hers. His mouth was greedy, stealing the air from her lungs. The conflicting thoughts were chased from her mind.
He lifted his mouth from her and looked into her face. She stared up into his eyes and saw naught but tenderness there. Their faces were so close they could have drawn the same breath.
"The guns are to protect you, Natasha" His fingertips brushed her jaw line. "I won't let anyone hurt you. I would never hurt you." He said quietly and rose up off her. "Think of all the opportunities I've had. I could've killed you long ago." He took her hand and pulled her up to stand before him and cupped her face in his hands. "You can trust me."
***
Natasha woke. She slid from the bed. Her bare feet sank into the carpet as she padded to the door. She peeked out. Gianni was nowhere to be seen.
"Gianni?" she called out.
There was no answer. Good. She was still a bit unnerved. The man did uncomprehensible things to her willpower.
She slipped out into the living room, to the kitchenette. The coffeemaker had produced a large pot of hot coffee. The smell of it near overwhelmed her. She poured herself a cup, inhaling the scent. She added sugar and crème. With a sigh she sank into the sofa.
Sunlight streamed into the room lightly through the chiffon curtains at the balcony. Except for the slight dull ache in her head...everything was perfect.
She didn't notice Gianni watching her, as he leaned against the doorway of his own bedroom. She was wearing an oversized sweatshirt again, her long legs tucked under her. Her black hair fell about her face and shoulders. She ran a hand through the unruly locks. He straightened and her eyes flicked to him. He was dressed only in a pair of black silk pajama bottoms. His chest was broad, muscled, and tanned. His feet were bare. He yawned and went to the kitchen. Natasha averted her eyes. He filled a mug with coffee and came to sit across from her in the living room.
"Are you alright?" he asked her quietly.
She looked down into her near-empty cup. "I guess. As well as could be expected."
