"Thanks." Lara looked around curiously. "It's not just the cooler weather that's bothering me. I'm in shock that we're actually here, and I'm still freaked out by our mode of transportation."
"It was quick and painless, no?"
"The moment of sheer terror was over quickly, but my confusion is greater than ever. How are you able to do such a thing?"
With a sigh, he stroked her hair. "I really don't know how it works. It's simply a gift, and I'm grateful for it."
"Well, it does beat ten hours on a plane." She turned in his arms so she could look over the balustrade. "I didn't realize the canals were this big."
"Most of them are not. This is the Grand Canal."
"Oh. Nice address." She glanced back at his home. "Not too shabby for a palace."
He grinned. "Unfortunately, many of the palazzi are in bad shape. This one dates from the sixteenth century, and there is always something that needs repairing."
"But you love it," she said quietly.
"Yes. I do. It's my anchor. A constant that is always here for me and never changes."
She regarded him, her eyes narrowed. "There's something so old-fashioned and … noble about you."
That was high praise for someone born a bastard. "Cara mia, thank you." He kissed her brow.
"Giacomo! You have arrived," a voice said in Italian.
Jack turned to find Gianetta at the open French doors. "Bellissima." He gave her a hug and kissed her plump cheeks. She was wearing a thick bathrobe over her nightgown, and her long gray hair lay in a braid against her ample bosom. He responded in Italian, "I'm sorry you had to get up in the middle of the night."
She patted his cheek. "It's always good to see you. And I'm thrilled you brought a girl with you. I've waited so long for this."
About fifty years, Jack figured. That's how long Gianetta and her husband, Mario, had been taking care of the palazzo. They'd started out as servants, but over the years, they'd become loyal and treasured friends.
"She's mortal, no?" Gianetta whispered in Italian.
"Yes, she is. Her name is Lara Boucher," he answered in Italian. "She's American."
"And very pretty." Gianetta nodded in approval, then spoke in heavily accented English. "I am very happy to meet you."
"Thank you." Lara grinned. "I'm delighted to be here."
"She needs a coat or jacket," Jack told Gianetta. When she looked confused, he translated into Italian.
"Ah, I have just the thing. And I'll bring refreshments." Gianetta bowed and left the balcony.
"She seems very nice," Lara said.
"She approves of you, which is good, since she and Mario are like family to me."
Lara snorted. "Everyone keeps playing the matchmaker around us."
"As if we need any encouragement." He wrapped his arms around her from the back and pulled her against his chest.
She rested her head on his shoulder. "The stars are lovely, but I wish there was more light. When does the sun rise?"
"Too soon." He nuzzled her neck. They had less than three hours before he'd have to teleport them back to New York City. He couldn't risk falling into his death-sleep in front of her. "This is a good time to be here. The city is quiet. All you can hear is the lapping of water against the buildings and the occasional hoot of an owl."
She folded her arms over his. "I've always wanted to see Venice. Thank you."
"Bellissima, we have barely begun." Jack pointed in the distance. "Do you see the light on the water? That is our gondola, coming to pick us up."
"This is so cool." Lara turned toward him, smiling. "Thank you for dragging me here against my will."
"Hmm." He smoothed a hand down her back. "What else can I make you do against your will?"
With a laugh, she slid her hands around his neck. "You know what they say-where there's a will, there's a way."
He nudged her nose with his own. "I want my way with you."
"Mmm." She pressed against him and raked her hands into his hair. "I can't ever resist you, Jack."
"Cara mia." He kissed her brow, her cheeks, her nose, and his heart soared. Lara wanted him, and he hadn't used any vampire tricks. She was the first and only woman he'd met whose mind he couldn't invade and read, and yet, their minds seemed to be of one accord.
He captured her mouth with his own and indulged in a long, leisurely kiss. She melted against him. Lara in his arms in Venezia-life didn't get any better than this.
A throat cleared. "Scusi," Gianetta whispered at the entrance to the balcony.
Lara stepped back, blushing slightly.
"I bring … food," Gianetta spoke in English. She set a wooden tray on the small bistro table. "And I bring cape for the signorina." She removed the cape that had been draped over one shoulder and shook it out.
"Oh my gosh, it's beautiful." Lara stroked the midnight blue velvet.
While Lara was busy admiring the cape, which Gianetta was settling on her shoulders, Jack sidled over to the table to check the food. Sure enough, Gianetta had filled the bronze goblet with warmed-up synthetic blood. He chugged it down before Lara could see the contents.
She laughed. "You sure were thirsty."
"Yes." He set the empty goblet on the tray. "You look wonderful in the cape."
With a grin, she pirouetted and let the long cape swirl around her. The velvet material came to rest in long folds that reached her ankles. "Isn't it gorgeous? It's lined with silk and has a hood, too."
She lifted the hood, and Jack caught his breath. Her eyes looked as deep blue as the velvet framing her lovely face. Her cheeks were flushed with excitement, making her fragrant with the scent of pulsing blood. He was tempted to forego all the sightseeing and whisk her straight upstairs to his bedroom. But no, he needed to court her first. He needed her to love him. That way, if she ever found out the truth about him, he'd have a better chance at not losing her.
"Very nice cape," Gianetta said in English. "Giacomo give me cape ten years ago for Carnival. Giacomo very nice man."
"Oh." Lara cast a curious look his way. "I guess he was about eighteen at the time?"
Gianetta gave Jack a confused look and spoke in Italian. "She doesn't know?" When he shook his head slightly, she frowned at him. "You have to tell her."
"Something wrong?" Lara watched them both.
"Yes." Jack switched to English and pointed at the tray on the table. "Your gelato is melting. Come, have a seat."
"Yes." Gianetta rushed to the table and set the bowl of ice cream, a linen napkin, and a glass of water in front of a chair. "Gelato from Venezia very good. You try."
"I'd love to." Lara sat in a bistro chair, carefully arranging the velvet cape around her.
Jack handed the empty bronze goblet to Gianetta.
"Here." She passed him a small package of Vampos, the after-dinner mint for Vamps who wanted rid of blood breath.
"Grazie. You think of everything." He popped a mint into his mouth and handed the package back to Gianetta, who quickly slipped it into her bathrobe pocket.
Lara glanced at the empty tray, then at Jack. "You're not going to have any ice cream?"
"No. I'm … lactose intolerant." He sat across from her at the table. "But I'll be happy to watch you enjoy it."
She gave him a sly grin. "You like to watch?"
He chuckled.
She aimed a seductive look at him as she brushed the hood off her head. He swallowed hard while his wayward mind imagined more clothes coming off.
She lifted the spoon to her mouth and touched the gelato with the tip of her tongue. Then she licked it. "Mmmm. So sweet and creamy."
He arched a brow at her. For a sweet angel, she could be wonderfully wicked. "You like it?"
"Oh, yeah." She opened her mouth slowly and inserted the spoon. "Mmmm." She drew the spoon out slowly.
His groin tightened.
"Oh, yes." She closed her eyes and tilted her head back. "Yes. Yes!" She pounded a fist on the table.
He shifted in his chair.
Gianetta grabbed Jack's shoulder and whispered in Italian, "Is she all right?"
"Yes." His voice sounded strained. "She really likes ice cream. That'll be all, Gianetta."
"Humph." Gianetta grabbed the empty tray and headed out the door, mumbling about strange American ways.
Lara grimaced. "Sorry. She probably thinks I'm crazy, but I just couldn't resist."
He smiled slowly. "Cara mia, I am counting on you not being able to resist."
She spooned more ice cream into her mouth. He continued to watch, amazed that he could get a hard-on from something so simple and innocent.
"This is really good." She finished the last bite. "And this bowl is beautiful."
"It's from Murano, where the glassblowers work."
"I'd love to see that."
"They're not open now, but I can arrange it for another trip." He stood and looked over the balcony. The gondolier was approaching the water gate. "Tonight, I want to show you the basilica and campanile at the Piazza San Marco."
She dabbed at her mouth with the linen napkin. "I'm guessing basilica is a church, but what's the other thing?"
"The campanile. A bell tower."
"Oh, cool! But aren't they closed at night?"
"I have … connections."
She grinned. "From being a choirboy?"