He chuckled. "Not exactly. Our gondola is arriving. Do you want to see?"
"Oh yes." She jumped up and peered over the balustrade. "Oh my gosh, he's wearing a striped shirt and hat, just like in the movies."
"Shall we go?" Jack gestured toward the French doors.
Lara accompanied him across the Great Room to the staircase. About fifty years ago, he'd had the stairs wired for electricity so no one would trip in the dark or have to carry a candle.
Lara glanced at the ascending staircase. "How many floors are there?"
"Four." He led her down the stairs. "The water floor is below. I live on the second and third floors, and Mario and Gianetta live on the fourth with their grandson."
Gianetta met them at the bottom of the stairs. "Mario has taken care of everything," she told Jack in Italian. "Father Giuseppe will be waiting for you in the piazza, and Lorenzo will be there shortly."
"Grazie milk." Jack gave her a hug. "I may not have time to come back here."
"I understand." Gianetta smiled at Lara and switched to English. "Giacomo very good man. Never bring girl here before."
"Really?" Lara's eyes lit up.
Jack gave Gianetta an annoyed look, then escorted Lara to the garden. "I want to show you this before we go."
Lara gasped when they stepped into the garden. Long strands of white twinkle lights outlined its square shape. A path of paving stones circled the fountain in the middle. An arbor entwined with wisteria arched over a stone bench. The scent of gardenia and roses filled the air, along with the sound of trickling water from the fountain.
"It's so beautiful," Lara whispered. "And so peaceful. No wonder you love it."
Jack gazed up at the windows on the third floor where his bedroom was located. He was tempted to teleport Lara straight there. But their gondola was waiting, and he was determined to court her properly. He refused to act like his father, treating each woman like a conquest before moving on to the next. Lara deserved better. And if she could love him, he would remain devoted to her forever.
"Come." He led her back down the arched hallway to the water gate.
Mario was waiting for them where the gondola had tied off. Jack gave the old man a hug and introduced Lara.
Mario shook her hand. "Brava, bellissima. Giacomo very good man."
Lara gave Jack a wry look. "You must pay them well."
He laughed. "I do, actually."
He stepped into the gondola and helped Lara board. They settled on the cushioned seat beneath a canopy that afforded them some privacy.
"Piazzo San Marco, please," he called to the gondolier in the back of the boat.
"Of course," the gondolier replied and moved them quickly into the canal.
Lara snuggled close to Jack. "This is so romantic."
"I'm glad you like it." He looped an arm around her shoulders and turned toward her so he could see her face.
She looked about curiously as they moved slowly down the Grand Canal. He pointed out several palazzi that had been transformed into hotels. They were lit up, and some even had luxury yachts parked in front.
Her mouth fell open. "Look at that bridge."
He glanced at it. "That's the Rialto." The center arch was illuminated at night.
Lara's eyes glittered with excitement. "This reminds me of a movie I loved when I was little. I thought it was the most romantic movie ever. Lady and the Tramp. Have you seen it?"
"No."
"Well, the Tramp takes Lady to an Italian restaurant, and the waiters bring them a big plate of spaghetti. Then the waiters serenade them with the song 'Bella Notte,' and it's so incredibly sweet."
" 'Bella Notte'?" He'd have to tell Mario about this.
"Then the Lady and the Tramp start sucking on the same spaghetti noodle, and he accidentally kisses her snout."
"Her … what?"
"Snout. Oh." Lara laughed. "Did I forget to mention that they're dogs?"
He gave her a dubious look. "Romantic dogs?"
She laughed again and swatted his arm. "I was five years old. And that spaghetti-noodle kiss was really hot. Lady turned away with this sweet blush like she was all embarrassed, and Tramp has this wolfish grin on his face like 'Yeah, baby, let's do that again.' "
With his own wolfish grin, Jack tapped the end of her nose. "So if I kiss your adorable little snout, will you be my Lady?"
True to her role, Lara looked away and blushed. "I'm not sure you could be a Tramp. I don't think he ever lived in a fancy palazzo."
"Ah. But I'm a bastard, so I should still qualify."
She poked him in the chest. "You're not a bastard. You're a sweetheart."
"Must I prove I'm a bastard?" He reached underneath her cape and tickled her ribs. "Take that. And beware, or I will jab you with the comfy cushions."
She wiggled away from him, giggling. "Stop it, you … tramp."
With a laugh, he pulled her onto his lap. "My lady."
Her laughter faded as she slid her hands around his neck and gazed into his eyes. "Jack."
He squeezed her hip. "Woof."
She smiled. "A real bastard might try to take advantage of me." She nuzzled her nose against his cheek.
"I'll do my best." He turned his head to take her mouth. Her lips opened, inviting him in. He circled his tongue inside her mouth and stroked her tongue.
She moaned, then suddenly broke the kiss. She glanced over his shoulder at the dark canopy separating them from the gondolier. "I forgot we're not alone."
"They're used to it. Venice has always been a place for lovers."
She raked a hand through his hair. "Is that what you want us to be-lovers?"
"Mmm-hmm." Underneath the cape, he skimmed his hand down her skirt till he reached bare skin.
She ran her fingertips along his jaw. "Everyone keeps telling me what a good man you are."
"Mmm-hmm." His hand crept under the hem of her skirt. "I'm as trustworthy as a priest."
"So I hear. Shanna said I could trust you."
"Mmm-hmm." His fingers inched up her bare thigh. "I'm practically a saint."
She glanced down at the cape where his hidden hand made a bulge that continued to move up her thigh. "What exactly are you doing?"
His mouth twitched. "Searching for the Holy Land?" He reached the edge of her panties, Lace, by the feel of it.
She frowned. "Perhaps you should know that I'm not-I mean, I don't normally-" She gasped when his hand slipped under her panties. "Jack, you … bastard."
"That's me." He squeezed her bare rump.
"Jack," she breathed. "We shouldn't … " She glanced nervously at the canopy.
"I know. You're just so hard to resist." He patted her bottom, then started to slide his hand out from under her panties.
Her panties came with him. With a gulp, he quickly moved his hand so the panties would be in place. Then he slowly moved his hand down. There was a tug on his ring, and the panties moved with him.
Merda! Her lace panties had snagged on his ring, the signet ring he'd inherited from his father, Giacomo Casanova. His father had seduced hundreds of women without any problems whatsoever, and he was having trouble with just one. This was the real reason he never used the Casanova name. He could never live up to his father's reputation. The old man was probably laughing in his grave.
Chapter Fourteen
"Nine circles of hell," Jack muttered.
"Hell?" Lara asked. "I thought I was the Holy Land."
"You're paradise. Unfortunately, I am stuck there." Her eyes widened. "Stuck?"
"Normally, I would love being stuck to your lovely bum, but it might look odd if we go sightseeing with my hand under your skirt. Especially in the basilica." She glanced down. "How can you be stuck?"
"My ring. It's caught in the lace. See?" He moved his hand down her hip, dragging her undies down a few inches.
"Okay, stop." She bit her lip, frowning, then suddenly giggled. "I can't believe this has happened."
"I assure you, as much as I had hoped to get your clothes off, this was not part of my original plan." She snorted. "No problem. Just rip yourself loose."
"Are you sure? It will destroy your undies."
She narrowed her eyes with a seductive look. "Rip it."
"Very well." He jerked his hand away, but the panties came with him. He yanked his hand back and forth, but the lacy, latex material simply stretched with him. "Santo cielo, they are indestructible."
Lara laughed.
He continued to wage battle, but to no avail. "They could use this material to build spaceships."
She shook her head, grinning. "Maybe you should try taking your ring off."
He pushed at it with his thumb, but it didn't budge. "I would need to put my other hand up your skirt."
"A likely story." She cast him a sly look. "I think the only option left is for you to do the gentlemanly thing and cut your hand off."
"I prefer it attached, if you don't mind. And you might enjoy what I could do with it." While she snorted, he lifted her slightly. "Fortunately, I have another option." He slid his hand and the panties down her legs.