“Sure. I’ll come here and we can take your car. What about Ben?”
“The fewer people who know about Ben, the better. I’ll see if Kirby and Dez can watch him. He seems to be fond of blondes.”
Beatrice shook her head. “That kid is fond of females. Doesn’t seem to matter what kind.”
“He’ll learn to be choosy in time. It only took me five hundred years to find the one I really want.”
She blushed and tried to hide her smile. Giovanni was trying to keep the innuendo to a minimum, but he wasn’t a saint. He knew she was grieving her relationship with Mano and blamed herself for the human’s pain, but he also knew she would eventually see the wisdom of not dwelling in the past.
He’d had enough of the past; he wanted her future.
“Okay, I’ll call Dez in the morning and then head over here after work. I’m sure she’ll be happy to help. Then we can go over and talk to this Ernesto.”
“He’ll expect you to treat him like family, just so you know. He already knows all about you and considers you a granddaughter. He’s quite proud of you.”
Beatrice made a face and Giovanni chuckled. “I’m not going to lie,” she said, laughing along. “That’s kind of weird.”
“And he’ll probably try to persuade you to let him sire you.”
She fumbled the knife. “What?”
Giovanni smiled. “He won’t force the issue, far from it, he fears me too much, but he can be very persuasive. He loves having a large family and he particularly likes having human descendants in it. It’s a peculiarity of his, but not an obsessive one.”
Beatrice took a deep breath. “Okay, as long as he’s not going to try to force me or anything.”
“No, I’ll be in his home with you. No one would dare.”
“It’s a date then.”
He propped his elbows on the counter and watched her warm the tortillas, one by one, in the flame from the stove. “Maybe we should try the theater next time. Might be less stressful.”
Beatrice looked over at him, glanced at his hands and held up another tortilla with a pair of tongs. “Little help here?”
He grinned, snapped his fingers, and let the warm flames fill his hands as he helped her finish preparing the meal.
“Ben wants to know if I can take him to that movie with the blue aliens.”
“That movie looks horrible.”
She shrugged and folded the tortillas in a clean dishtowel to keep them warm. “He’s twelve.”
“Remind me to make him read some Jules Verne.”
She grinned and nodded toward the door. “You’re such a snob. Can you call him in to set the table?”
Giovanni turned his head toward the door and yelled, “Benjamin! Come inside and set the table!”
She gave him a disgusted look.
“What? He heard me.”
Beatrice rolled her eyes. “Boys. Five hundred or twelve. Mortal or immortal. Still kind of the same…”
He grinned, pleased beyond measure to have her in his kitchen, in his home, in his life. Giovanni couldn’t help but imagine what it would be like to have her living with him, working with him, and helping him raise Ben.
Loving him.
His feelings must have spilled out of his eyes as he watched her take the food to the table, because she glanced over at him and quickly looked away. He stood, walked into the kitchen, and took the plate of food from her.
He leaned down and brushed a kiss over her cheek before he whispered in her ear, “Grazie, tesoro. For dinner. For being here.”
She swallowed and opened her mouth as if she was about to speak, but just then, Ben barreled into the kitchen.
“Awesome, tacos-” And then. “- Ew, are those tomatoes?”
Chapter Eight
Long Beach, California
December 2009
The lights of the three-tiered yacht glowed in the harbor as Giovanni and Beatrice were ferried out in the small white boat. Don Ernesto Alvarez had spent his mortal and immortal life in the accumulation of wealth, power, and influence and had no qualms about enjoying and sharing that wealth with those he favored.
“So, the water vampire lives on a yacht, huh?” she leaned toward Giovanni and whispered.
“No need to be intimidated, tesoro, but do be careful.”
“See, those two statements seem like they contradict each other to me, Gio.”
He chuckled and slipped an arm around her, warming her when she shivered. She relaxed into his side and allowed herself to enjoy the simple comfort of his touch.
He’d been careful with her the past weeks, respecting the fact that she still grieved the loss of her relationship with Mano. No matter his own feelings, he had respected hers and was showing an extraordinary amount of patience.
And that, more than anything, softened the brittle wall she’d put up to protect herself.
It would have been as easy as breathing to fall into his arms. She knew he loved her and wanted her, but Beatrice also knew she was past the point in her life where she would jump head first into a situation she knew little about. She had been cautious six years ago; she was even more wary now.
Giovanni claimed he wanted her. Not just for this life, but for eternity. She was still trying to wrap her mind around the idea; what he was asking wasn’t a decision she could make lightly.
“Señorita De Novo, Señor Vecchio, welcome aboard,” the dark haired steward called down in greeting when they came alongside the anchored cruiser. They climbed up the large angled ladder that dipped toward the water, and she felt Giovanni’s hand on the small of her back as she climbed. She was slightly unsteady on her feet, but she felt him behind her, steadying her legs as she climbed.
“I feel like I’m underdressed,” she muttered, eyeing the formally dressed steward.
He chuckled and pinched her leg. “I told you to wear your boots.”
“Haha. All the same, with this ladder I’m sure glad I didn’t wear a skirt.”
“I’m not,” she heard him grumble.
“Oh really? Want me to share the view with all the boys in the boat below?”
She looked down to see one of the crewmen on the small boat wink at her. Beatrice snickered and Giovanni glanced over his shoulder to see the man quickly busy himself coiling rope.
“Fair point, tesoro. Skirts for my eyes only, if you please.”
Beatrice rolled her eyes and continued climbing. Normally, she would consider his possessive behavior annoying, but in the unknown situation she was putting herself into, it was more comforting than anything else.
“Tesoro mio,” Giovanni called from below, “can we hurry up a bit?”
“Why? You getting grey down there, professor?”
She squeaked when she felt him grab her by the waist and pull her into an embrace as he scooted up next to her. She clung to his neck and he shimmied up the ladder to the teak deck above. He held onto her a bit longer than necessary and bent down to murmur in her ear.
“It was getting hard to resist the temptation to sink my teeth in your thigh when I was staring at it for so long.”
Her breath caught, her temperature shot up, and her heart raced at the rough sound of his voice. She made an effort to calm down so she didn’t meet her great-great-however many great-grandfather completely turned on by her…whatever Giovanni was.
Beatrice saw two scantily clad women strolling along the deck; both of them shot Giovanni a look as they passed. He was dressed in surprisingly casual clothes that evening, though his dark jeans and black button-down shirt did nothing to detract from his good looks. The women swayed their hips as they walked past, but he didn’t even glance at them. Instead, he held his hand out, searching for her own.
Whatever Giovanni was, she was beginning to realize he was most certainly hers.
She flushed when she realized she was more than a little possessive herself. The steward, who had been chatting with Giovanni in soft Italian, escorted them from the boat landing and up the stairs toward the decks above.