Bought by Her Italian Boss(25)

"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.