"Ignore the boxes," Lauren said as they came back in, waving at the dozens piled near the back stairs. "One of the aunts has embarked on a family history book. Paolo and I have been digging relics out of attics and pantries that haven't been opened in years. It's fascinating! So many old photos and diaries. Love letters."
Gwyn had just taken the baby from Lauren, gathering his warm body close and glancing at Vito like she was the first person to ever cuddle a baby. It was a vulnerable moment of wanting to share her excitement and joy, maybe see what he thought of the sight of her with an infant against her heart, but he wasn't looking at her.
He and Paolo had a lightning exchange that consisted of one look of inquiry and another of an infinitesimal shake of Paolo's head replying, No.
If Vito realized she had seen what had just transpired, he betrayed nothing. In fact, his direct gaze, so forceful as he met hers, was a silent declaration that he had nothing to hide.
But she'd seen something. She knew it.
"That's what brought me to Italy, you know," Lauren said, moving through to the lounge where she gathered toys. "Looking up family. My grandmother had a scandalous affair with a married man and went home pregnant."
"Here I thought you came to Italy for me," Paolo said, holding up a red plastic bin so Lauren could drop her collection of stuffed toys and books into it.
"You're why I stayed, mio bello," she said, offering her lips for a kiss.
The rest of the evening passed in entertaining conversation, excellent food and an invitation from the children to read bedtime stories. It was sweet, yet poignant, making Gwyn recall the way Vito had told her this would never be her life.
Later, as they were readying for bed, she asked him, "Did you ever live in that house?" She was still thinking about that odd moment when Lauren had mentioned love letters. Had he left some evidence of a lost crush?
"I stayed with Paolo's family at different times as a child, wherever they happened to be living. Both of our families traveled a lot, but my sisters and I were well matched in ages to Paolo and his sisters. We often had summer vacations together, that kind of thing. They were our favorite cousins and my uncle..." Vito shrugged. "I looked to him as much of a father figure as my own," he said with a hint of private irony.
"That must have been so idyllic," she said wistfully. "Did you and Paolo play with the girls? Or were you horrible sexists?"
"A little of both," he said dryly, unbuttoning his shirt. "We were never going to play with dolls without lighting their hair on fire, but if the girls wanted to play tag or hide-and-seek, we were up for it."
"And once you discovered real girls, the ones you weren't related to, I'm guessing you were never seen again?"
He didn't say anything, only left his shirt on a chair and bent to peel off his socks, leaving them on the floor. Where did he think those went? She always wound up putting them in the hamper because the housekeeper only came in every other day.
"You're not going to admit to having girlfriends back then?" she asked, brushing out her hair.
"I'm wondering why you need confirmation."
"Okay, I'll just admit that I saw you and Paolo have a silent conversation when Lauren mentioned finding letters. I wondered if you had some kind of scandalous affair in your past."
"I've always left it to Paolo to create the publicity stirs, keeping my own behavior to run-of-the-mill, pedestrian affairs that aren't very interesting." He held her gaze as he pulled his belt loose. "Current one being the exception."
She set her jaw, arms crossing. "Am I being too nosy? You're starting to sound hostile."
"Just bored, cara."
She set down her brush and worked her silver bangles over her hand, trying to hide how deeply his comment stung.
"Well, it's interesting to me," she said stiffly. "I can't imagine what a project that book will be for your aunt, having so much family history to sift through, so many people of note. I'm envious, if you want the truth. My tree is two people and I could write a single paragraph about each of them. Excuse me for being curious about yours when it has such depth."
She turned to set the bangles on the night stand and pulled off her earrings.
"A clean slate can be a good thing, cara. There are some family secrets better left out of the history books."
She shot him a look over her shoulder. "If that's supposed to make me less curious, you're going in the wrong direction."
"You told me you didn't want me to lie to you. Do you remember that?" He came up behind her and found the zip at the back of her cocktail dress. "It was the day we became lovers, in the elevator."
Her dress loosened and all of her tingled with memory and fresh anticipation. How did he do that? Steal the air from her body without really touching her, just opening her dress?
"I remember," she told him, standing very still, closing her eyes because he aroused her just by standing near enough to feel his own arousal emanating off his big body.
"You said if I didn't want to talk about something I should simply say so. I don't want to talk about this, cara."
"Okay," she whispered, transfixed by the way her bra tightened, then loosened as he released the clasp.
"I want to suck your nipples, then I want your heels in my back as I lick my way down and make you scream my name."
She swallowed. "Okay."
* * *
Vito watched Gwyn charm the head of their legal department. She was praising the man's country after their recent visit to Zurich, where Vito had stolen a day with her for scenic driving, a hike and a picnic, opera in the evening and a late-night dinner of fondue.
It had been a day like, well, he should just admit it-it had been like a honeymoon. She had basked under his attention and he had exalted in hers. He'd never had a woman in his life who was so compatible to him, not just in bed, but out of it. Laughing or silent, naked or clothed, he always felt comfortable around her. He was always proud to have her at his side, loved showing her off.
And was half jealous of that heavyset, middle-aged counselor now, as she poured all her charm and attention in that direction, her flushed pleasure utterly captivating.
At least he could take credit for that allure of hers. Not because he'd paid for the classic suit that was tailored to make the most of her million-dollar figure, or because the smooth chignon and subdued lip color and artistic platinum pendant and earrings were also billed to him. No, he liked to think he was responsible for giving her a place where she could blossom, not just privately in his bed, where she was developing an erotic command with regard to telling him what she liked and wanted, but in public arenas.
Gwyn wasn't a bold person by nature and her photo exposé had left her self-confidence seriously dented. Vito had reminded her again and again that she had no reason to feel shame or think she owed anyone explanations. Under his tutelage, she'd regained her confidence and an attitude of self-possession that was even more hypnotic than her exquisite outer shell. He adored seeing her personality shine through like this.
"She's staying after this?" Paolo asked in an undertone, tucking away his phone.
"You disapprove?" Vito challenged lightly, but with very little actual lightness.
"I don't pass judgments on the private lives of family. You know that," Paolo said with a sardonic twist of his mouth. "If I saw impact to the bank I would comment, but I wouldn't have to, would I?"
No, he wouldn't, but Vito still wound up feeling defensive. He wasn't sure it would matter to him if this affair impacted the bank. He suspected he would carry on with Gwyn regardless.
He had intended to end things after the announcement of charges against Jensen. It would have been a tidy break without loose ends or deeply hurt feelings. Gwyn had been as prepared for it as he had. Even as she had suggested pretending a visit home to see family, he'd been thinking along the same lines.
Then she had touched him, kissed him, somehow stepped inside the shields he wore so easily against the rest of the world and imprinted herself on his very psyche. He had sought satiation that afternoon, certain that when his libido was exhausted, he'd be ready to release her.
But she'd only had to shift away from him in the bed and his entire being had been racked with agony. The single command for her to stay had slipped past his renowned self-discipline, left his lips and landed on her naked skin.