La Vita Dolce Ch 15

Morgan gripped Natasha's hand hard as the limo pulled up to the beach house. Morgan's look was pleading. "Please don't do this, Tash."

Natasha squeezed back and gave Morgan what she hoped was a reassuring smile. "This is the best for everyone."

Morgan shook her head vehemently. "The best for everyone? Lacey and Colin will be a mess not to mention Gianni. How can you do this to him?"

Natasha felt her heart clench painfully in her chest before she shoved the feeling down. "I'm doing this for him—to protect him." Her voice softened. "I'm doing all of this for him."

Morgan's tone was insistent. "Doing the best for him by hurting him?"

Natasha swallowed thickly before slipping her hand from Morgan's tight grip. "Better hurt than dead," she said numbly.

Morgan sat back in her seat, tears sliding down her face.

Natasha gazed at the beach house speculatively. She spoke softly. "You can't tell him, Morgan. If he comes after me, Luca will kill him. He'll probably kill me too." She turned to face the other girl. "Do you understand?"

Morgan said nothing.

"Morgan?" Natasha insisted.

"I understand," the other girl said quietly not quite looking at her.

"Remember the story?"

Morgan nodded.

Natasha signed and returned her gaze to Lacey and Colin's beach house, trying to push the dread and anxiety down. She had to be calm if she was going to pull this off. She turned over her shoulder to see a black Chevy Tahoe van parked a few houses down. If she wasn't out in twenty minutes, they were coming in after her. Luca waited in the back seat.

Natasha took a deep breath and blew out slowly. "Alright, let's get this over with."

Natasha reluctantly opened the car door and stepped out into the California sun. She was well dressed and well groomed. Her dark curls had been straightened to hang in silky strands down her back. Her make-up was flawless. She wore a pair of J skinny jeans under a white collared shirt cinched around her waist by a wide brown leather belt. On her feet were a pair of Cesari Paciotti boots. Morgan emerged looking similarly well, as though they had been at the spa for a weekend rather than in captivity.

Steeling herself Natasha slipped on her new Chanel sunglasses and strode to the front door, Morgan trailing slightly behind. She knocked and waited.

When the door swung open she was met with Lacey's shocked face. "Tasha!"

Natasha smiled thinly, coolly. "Lacey."

Natasha was immediately snatched into a hug. Lacey was crying, fat tears rolling down her cheeks. She even grabbed Morgan up in a hug. "I hate you but I was so scared. I don't want anyone else to kill you."

Morgan's voice was absent. "Anyone else?"

Lacey was dragging them into the house. "No, if it happens, I'm going to be the one to do it."

"Cols, Gianni!" Lacey was shouting.

The two men emerged from the kitchen and stopped short, shock evident on their faces. Morgan was a blur of red hair and Armani scent as the raced by and flung herself into Colin's arms. Colin caught her up in his embrace, relief flooding his face. Gianni stood stock still looking at Natasha. Natasha stood rooted to her spot, her shades still over her eyes.

Her voice was soft. "Gianni."

He reached her in three long stride, sweeping her up into his arms and crushing her to him. Her booted heels dangled off the ground as he held her, his face buried in her neck. "Bella, baby, my love...." he was whispering over and over again He set her down on her feet and gently removed the dark sunglasses from her eyes before setting them aside. His hands were in her hair, smoothing it back from her face. Her gaze was concentrated and unwavering on the center of his chest.

"Natasha?" He took her chin between his thumb and forefinger and lifted her face to his. She seemed to reluctantly meet his gaze and when she looked at him her lovely gaze was cool and detached.

Her voice was similarly cool when she spoke. "I need to speak with you." Her eyes darted to the others. "Alone."

Gianni's dark brows drew together in concern. "Of course, bella."

Natasha pulled out of his arms and strode through the kitchen and opened the French doors which led out onto the patio which overlooked the ocean below.

She went to the railing and gripped the wrought iron so hard the blood left her knuckles. She took a deep breath and exhaled slowly as she heard Gianni close the doors behind them.

Gianni moved to stand behind her, his chest pressed against her back but her body lost none of its rigidity. Her head dropped forward slightly and he felt her draw a shuddering breath. He placed his hands on her shoulders, pulling her more fully against his body and dipped his head to press a light kiss on her hair and then her temple. He then moved to wrap one arm around her waist, lifting his other hand to take her chin between his thumb and forefinger. He bent and turned her face to his, seizing her lips with his own. Her knees buckled and he tightened his hold on her, keeping her against his body.

Gianni kissed her voraciously, his tongue gently but firmly caressing the recesses of her mouth. His lips massaged her own as a low moan rumbled through him. He gently turned her in his arms as he felt her tentatively return the kiss. And then she was wrapping her arms around his neck, pulling herself closer, pressing her breasts against the unyielding hardness of his chest. Gianni felt the anxiety of her absence and of her cool return vanish as he held her. His woman was safe and in his arms. He tightened his hold on her feeling as though their bodies pressed against each other were not enough but that he needed to make her a part of himself.

He felt her hands against his chest pushing at him though her lips clung to his. With a strangled cry she wrenched herself suddenly from his arms. She stumbled, nearly tripping in her tall booted heels in her attempt to evade his hand as he reached out to steady her. She shrugged him off lightly, her heart clenching at the flicker of hurt in his silver gaze as she pulled away from him.

He reached for her again. "Bella—"

Natasha sidestepped him, shaking her head. "No. Enough." She was still shaking her head as she ran a trembling hand through her now straight locks. "Enough." She repeated softly. I can't do this anymore."

Gianni's arms fell to his sides. "Natasha, baby, what are you talking about? I don't understand. What's happened to you?"

Natasha eyed him momentarily as she kept her distance. His dark hair fell in waves about the collar of his white t-shirt which stretched tightly over his broad chest. His strong square jaw was shadowed with stubble. His grey gaze, fringed by thick dark lashes, stood out vibrantly against the golden tan of his skin. Her eyes lingered on the sensuous curve of his mouth and she considered that it had already been the last time that she would ever kiss his lips or that it was the last time that he would look at her with such love and yearning. In the next few moments he would grow to hate her.

She took in the strong lines of his body. No, she didn't think he would hurt her, although he was certain he might want to.

"I have to go," she said and made a movement towards the door'' He moved into her path quickly, as she had known he would. She had gone over this scenario in her head again and again. She had to play this perfectly if she was going to save him.

His brow was furrowed in confusion. "You have to go? What do you mean? Where are you going? I don't understand, baby. What's wrong?"

Natasha looked at him, the cool demeanor back in place. "I'm going now. I'm going back to Luca. You won't be harmed.

Gianni was in front of her in an instant, his strong hands gripping her shoulders. He shook her lightly. Bewilderment tinged with anger flooded his handsome face. "Natasha," he shook her as though he were trying to snap her out of it. "What do you mean you 'have to go?' Did you make some deal with him? What the fuck are you talking about?"

Natasha gave him a two-handed shove. Normally she would not have been able to budge him but she caught him off guard. She abruptly stepped out of arms reach as she tugged her clothing back into place and tossed her dark hair over her shoulders. Her voice was level and calm when she spoke. "I told Luca that this has gone far enough and I want it to stop. I did not mean for things to get this complicated...I didn't think that..." she faltered, her eyes drifting closed for a moment as she drew a deep breath and then looked at him again. "I didn't mean to get so involved..." she paused, "with you. And for that deception I am truly sorry, but I am done with this. I didn't want my friends involved or hurt. This has gone far beyond anything that Luca had planned in the beginning." She had rehearsed these lines over and over in her head for the past two days. Her voice was steady though she allowed a slight waver to enter. Let him think it was out of fear of her revelation.

Gianni stood rigid, his fists clenched at his sides. He practically radiated ill-restrained fury. "Explain, Natasha," he nearly growled at her.

Natasha eyed him warily and took another step back from him and leaned back against the deck railing. She crossed her booted heels in front of her and examined her fingetips though she glanced up at him periodically as she spoke. "Our meeting in the airport wasn't an accident. Luca made sure that you would be there by convincing your father to send you on a small recon trip. You were supposed to have the information on me already but the courier was late. I had to wing it and literally bump into you to get your attention." She lied, her eyes flickering to his and then back to her hands. The wind whipped her hair about her face but she ignored it. A wry bitter smile curved on her lips. "I'm not really as clumsy as I seemed that first day, but you were so ready to play knight in shining armor the moment you thought I was in trouble. You were supposed to grow to care for me, love me even...and I was supposed to pull you away from the Angiolini family business, leaving everything to Luca."

Natasha watched the color drain from Gianni's face.

She shrugged. "What better way to pull you away than to have the woman you love directly threatened?" She met his hooded gaze directly. "I'm a Pezzini. No other woman would be endangered by your family—by your lifestyle—the way I was."

Gianni was in front of her in two steps, crowding her space. She fixed her detached gaze on the center of his chest as he placed his hands on her the railing framing her hips but did not touch her. His tone was laden with menace. "Endangered?" He roughly took her chin in his hand and forced her to meet his gaze. Gone was her gentle fervent lover. "You were nearly raped. You nearly drowned--and for God's sake Natasha--you were shot. All this from a man who is supposedly in on it? I don't believe it. What the fuck your game, Natasha?"

She forced herself to meet his intense gaze. "Alejandro tried to rape me. That was... unexpected. Luca took care of it. As for the rest..." her voice softened and trailed off. She averted her gaze once more. "As for the rest...it's no game, Gianni. I'm trying to be straight with you." Her voice was quiet as she returned her serious gaze to his face searchingly.

He stepped back from her, his handsome jaw set firmly. He crossed his arms over his chest. She read the first signs of uncertainty in his face. She forced herself to continue. "It wasn't all a lie...and that was the problem. I did come to care for you—if not love you in some way. I was having second thoughts. I tried to break it off with Luca. I didn't want to go through with it anymore. That's when he kidnapped me--nearly killed me with the bathtub fiasco. The hit on me and my uncle was his second attempt to send me a message and remind me of our deal. The limo wasn't armored as he assumed," she snorted, "his mistake."

"You almost died," Gianni spat out.

"Much to his chagrin," she returned.

Gianni sneered. "What was in it for you, huh? How much is he paying you?" His voice was dripping menace and distain. "What's your price, bella? Did he pay you to make yourself a whore for him too?"

Natasha flinched. "I'm not a whore." She said softly. She swallowed thickly, fighting to hold back tears.

"No?"

She shook her head. "No."

Gianni's face was close to hers. She was trapped between the railing and his body. "How long were you fucking my brother before you were fucking me?" Gianni ground out.

Natasha squeezed her eyes shut. His breath was fanning against her lips. Tears slipped from beneath her lowered lashes and trailed down her cheeks. Her voice was soft. "I told you...I did not mean for it to go so far." Her lids flickered open. "It wasn't for money. I wanted to see what family I have left safe. I wanted an end to all this fighting. He promised that no harm would come to my uncle."

"And now?" Gianni growled.

Natasha blinked back tears and lifted her chin imperiously. Gianni straightened.

"Now it's over," Natasha said evenly. "I'm going with Luca. We will bring about a union between the Angiolinis and the Pezinnis that your father would have never allowed. Stay in the fold if you like but I'm done with the intrigue."

She moved to step around him and leave him when his hand shot out with a startling quickness as he gripped her arm bruisingly hard in the vice of his fingers. She winced involuntarily. His voice was a low growl. "You're carrying my child."

He watched as her brows lifted in surprise. Her eyes were wide as she looked at him and her mouth opened and closed. When she spoke her voice was careful. "Gianni," she said gently. "It was just a ploy to bring you closer to me. The baby..." she swallowed thickly. "The baby isn't yours, Gianni."

His grip tightened on her. "You're lying."

She shook her head, her eyes meeting his steadily. "No, Gianni, I'm not."

His gaze seemed to search her face. She watched as he seemed to read veracity in her look.

With a snarl, Gianni flung her away from him. He didn't push her hard, just a slight shove to put some space between them but she teetered in her tall heels. She stumbled backwards until her back hit the side of the house. The speed she had gathered during her stumble sent the back of her skull thunking against the wall. She froze against the side of the house as pain lanced through her skull and then her world tilted and she slid down the wall to land hard on her rear.

"Shit," Gianni cursed. He hadn't meant to hurt her. Torn, Gianni watched her slowly shaking her head, trying to clear it, wincing as she did so. He resisted the urge to help her up, feeling torn between the intense desire to pull her into his arms and force her to stay or to wrap his hands around her lovely throat.

She gingerly pushed her hair out of her face and gazed at him with a look of incredulous hurt. The wounded look in her eyes wrenched painfully at his chests, his lungs feeling compressed. He felt sick.

Her words were soft. "Maybe you and your brother are more alike than I thought."

"Natasha—" he started, reaching towards her but she flinched away from him, holding up her hand to ward him off. He retreated a few steps, thinking to put her more at ease. That's when she scrambled to her feet and bolted for the French doors back into the house. Gianni moved quickly after her but wasn't quick enough. She slammed the doors behind her, latching them just as he reached them. Their faces were inches apart, separated by the glass. Gianni watched pain and anguish flicker in Natasha's dark blue gaze before it was quickly veiled. She backed away from the door slowly, her eyes still on him.

He slammed his fist against the door frame causing her to jump. "Natasha!" he shouted her name as she turned and strode quickly from the kitchen.

Lacey, Morgan and Colin were all standing in the living room. They expectantly looked to her as she entered. She watched as uncertainty tinged Colin's features as he looked at her. The sounds of Gianni's fists against the sturdy doorframe reached the living room. She went first to Morgan and hugged her, whispering against her ear, "Remember what I told you."

Morgan swallowed and nodded mutely.

Natasha then seized Lacey in a fierce hug. "I love you kid. I'm sorry I got you into this. I'll call you soon. I promise."

Lacey pulled back, bewildered. "Tash, wha—"

But Natasha was already hugging Colin. "Bye Cols. I'll be in touch." She smiled thinly.

Colin would have reached for her as she moved around him if Morgan hadn't quickly grasped his arm and pulled him back with a meaningful look.

The sound of shattering glass and splintering wood in the kitchen drew everyone's attention. Natasha was at the front door just as Gianni burst into the living room. He caught a glimpse of her racing out the door, heard her heels clicking on the front walk as she ran. He shouted her name and tore after her.

Colin and Lacey were close behind as he raced out the front door.

Natasha ran towards the black Chevy waiting on the curb, tears blurring her vision. The hired men stepped out of the front seats and Luca emerged from the rear passenger door. Natasha ran directly into his arms, burying her face in his chest and wrapping her arms around him. She sobbed great heaving gasps against his shirt as she dug her nails into his back. She wanted to shred him with her nails but this was part of the tableau they were to create.

Luca enclosed her in his arms. The gesture would have seemed tender had he not wrapped his hand around a lock of her hair and tugged hard for the way her nails tore at her back. "Easy little one," he growled.

Natasha whimpered, relaxing her hold on him but she felt him tense at Gianni's roar. "Luca!" His grip on her hair tightened though his hand was hidden from view beneath the dark waves of her hair. Natasha muffled a cry of pain as he unknowingly tugged at the wound on the back of her head. She bit the flesh on his chest to keep from crying out.

Gianni came to an abrupt halt in the front yard. The others stood in the doorway of the beach house. The scene before him was oddly similar to the day at the house in Lake Tahoe. Natasha was once again in Luca's arms and Gianni felt powerless to stop it. But this time was different. Luca's stance was protective rather than dominating. Natasha clung to him, her face buried against his chest.

Luca's head was bent as he was speaking t softly into her ear as he ran a soothing hand over the raven hair trailing down her back. His motion halted suddenly and he lifted his hand for closer inspection. The was a vivid red smear across his palm.

Luca frowned. He glanced down at Natasha, unable to see her face as it was buried against his chest. His voice was flat. "You're bleeding."

Natasha started. Her hand flying up to her hair. Her gaze clashed with Luca's. His face was impassive but a muscle ticked in his clenched jaw. His silver gaze had darkened to a fearful slate color. His voice was a low growl. "He hit you?"

Natasha's eyes widened. Luca was practically vibrating with rage. She blinked in confusion. "No I—I fell." Her words rushed forth. " He grabbed me and I fell. It was an accident."

Luca lifted one ebony brow. "I see," he responded mildly while reaching between their bodies to grab the Glock 9mm from his shoulder holster.

"No!" Natasha flung her arms around his neck and pressed herself against him as she held him tightly, effectively trapping his hand between their bodies. Luca froze. Her face was pressed against his neck. "Please," she hissed urgently. "You promised. You promised you would leave him alone. You promised you wouldn't hurt him."

Luca was still. Not so much because of his promise but because she clung to him, the back of his hand intimately pressed against the generous swell of her breast. Her tears were wet against his neck. "Get in the car Natasha,"