Too Devious to Tame (The Giovanni Clan) (8 page)

"What do you mean? What have you done? Damn it, tell me Giorgio," Jemima asked.

"Nothing for you to worry your pretty little head over,
cara
."

"For cripes' sake, Giorgio, don't you dare." Jemima snatched her hand out of his, and tried in vain to give him a shove off the bed. So help her she was going to wipe that infuriating, amused smile of his face.

"You will do yourself an injury,
tesoro.
I'm not leaving. Chill out and get well. That's all you have to do."

Damn the man. When he smiled at her like that, with all of his attention fixed on her, she had a hard time doing anything but drool. From the amused twinkle in his eyes, he knew it, too. From somewhere she found her back bone and pushed away from him.

"Don't you
tesoro
me. Unless ... unless you mean it."

 
Oh, that worked, girl. Why don't you just shout it from the roof tops? You're so pathetic.
And he didn't mean it, did he, so why did he find this so funny?

"Don't you dare laugh at me, you … you, Neanderthal. I am perfectly capable of looking after myself and you—"

Giorgio did laugh then. Her fingers itched to wipe that amused chuckle of his face, even as a small part of her simply melted, as his deep laugh wrapped itself around her senses. They used to laugh together. She remembered happier times with a flash of clarity so intense it took her breath away. And she yearned for those happy times. She wanted to get back there, but now was not the time for frivolity. How could he be so calm about all of this? They had almost been killed again, and he was just sitting there, laughing at her, looking far too sexy for her liking.

"Si,
you have done such a brilliant job looking after yourself lately." His expression sobered, and he reached out to twirl a strand of her hair around his finger. "I like your hair long. It suits you,
cara."

"What? Stop changing the subject, and leave my hair alone. It's a mess like the rest of me."

She slapped his hand away, ignoring the army of butterflies having taken up residence in her tummy at his closeness, and the teasing look in his eyes.

"I will get us out of this, Giorgio, I promise. I
will
remember. I just have to. Somehow this is all connected, and I'm not going to stand by and let you or Elise or anyone else take the blame for what I did. I've messed up so badly in the past, I know that." She slapped a hand to her mouth and almost choked on her next words as a new possibility dawned on her.  "Oh my God, Elise! Giorgio are they going to be after her?"

Her stomach heaved at the thought of her sister in danger. Dammit, why had she not thought of that before now? She hadn't changed at all, had she? Here she was only thinking of the danger to herself and Giorgio, when all this time her sister had been a sitting duck. She was her identical twin, for fuck's sake. They had swapped places all the time. Okay, she had always pretended to be Elise anyway. Had she not successfully fooled everyone before? What if they thought she was hiding as Elise again?

"Relax,
cara
, she's being watched by us, just in case. Nothing is going to happen to her or any of the Giovanni. Marco knows of the danger, and he's no fool. The rest of the family may not be involved in this, but they still have connections. And who would take on Mamma G?" He winked at her, and some of her anxiety fled.

Her lips twitched imagining the formidable head of the Giovanni Clan in full protective battle mode. She could bring full grown men to their knees with just one look. How effective that look would be against armed goons, she wasn't too sure, but Giorgio's tactic had worked.

"Oh, thank God." Jemima closed her eyes. Relief and gratitude warred with nervousness, as Giorgio pulled her closer, so close his breath raised the fine hair on her neck.

"Open your eyes,
cara."

She swallowed at his closeness, wishing she had the guts to just lean in and kiss him, but something in his eyes stopped her. An urgency which took her breath away, while sending icy tendrils of uneasiness down her spine.

Movement outside her door made him flinch, and his voice was an urgent whisper in her ear.

"You and I, we're going to play a game,
cara
. And you best play it well, because your life depends on it. As my wife you're under my protection, but the Don doesn't trust you, so we will have to play this well and look convincing. Whatever happens, follow my lead."

And just as the door flung open, his mouth descended on hers, and Jemima stopped breathing altogether.

Chapter Eight

Flames licked across Jemima's skin, and her blood rushed through her veins like molten lava.  Desire consumed her, every molecule of her set alight by the feel and smell of Giorgio. He groaned as he deepened the kiss. His hands fisted in her hair, and his tongue danced with hers, igniting a primal need so strong, all fear evaporated in the heat emanating from his firm lips.

"Giorgio, let the poor girl come up for air."

The coolly amused, female voice broke through the haze of Jemima's desire, and Giorgio froze. His hands tightened painfully in her hair before he released her. His breathing heavy, his eyes held a silent warning.

"I take it from that display that your
wife
has recovered?"

The dulcet tones held a definite edge to them this time, and Jemima risked a glance in the direction of all that censure. Intelligent blue eyes were assessing her, and the advert for Italian chic and understated middle-aged beauty angled her head, eyes narrowing, when her gaze roamed over Giorgio instead.

"You look like hell, boy. Be off with you, make yourself presentable, and leave your girl to me."

"I don't think so, Giada." Giorgio shook his head, and took one of Jemima's hands in his. "I already had this conversation. I'm not leaving her."

"You're no good to her like that either, boy. I'm not Luigi. You know I'm always on your side, but this is not helping her, or you."

Again that penetrating blue gaze rested on Jemima, and she couldn't shake the uneasy feeling that the woman in front of them could see right through her. She recognized another Italian Mamma when she saw one, and she pulled her knees up to her chest, looking to Giorgio for reassurance.

"Giorgio? Who is this?"

Before he could respond Giada had crossed the distance to the bed Jemima was huddling on, and extended one heavily jeweled hand.

"Giada Carbanisi, Luigi's long-suffering wife, and you're Jemima, right?"

At Jemima's hesitant nod, she retracted her hand with another amused smile. "I had to come and see who had my menfolk in such a tizzy. And you look as though you could do with some female company, not overbearing males making demands on you!" She shot a challenging look to Giorgio, and Jemima noticed the slight flush on his high cheekbones with a stab of astonishment.

"I wasn't making demands, Giada. I was just—"

"Just what, boy? Pull the other one. How long have I known you? I get it, I do, but she has been through one hell of an ordeal, and what that girl needs right now is a nice hot bath, followed by a massage to get those kinks out. Everything hurts, right?" She glanced back at Jemima with a sympathetic smile. "So, I tell you what I told Luigi. Butt out, let her recover, and leave her to me."

She put a hand up to stop Giorgio's immediate protest.

"I have already told Alfonso to beat it. Where Luigi expects her to get to is beyond me. And you're no use to her in this state either. So shoo. It's your goddaughter's birthday party this afternoon, lest you've forgotten, and you'll scare her silly looking like this."

She raised one eyebrow at the Italian curse muttered in response. "And there is no need for that language either, boy."

"Si, scusi,
but—"

"No buts, get some rest, have a wash, change. We'll meet you at the party. I promise you won't recognize her once I'm done with her."

The smile that accompanied those words was positively mischievous, and Jemima relaxed marginally. Amusement bubbled up through the niggling worry, at the put out look Giorgio wore just then. Who'd have thought the great Giorgio would be put in his place by a five foot nothing female?

"Do I even get a choice?"

"None whatsoever, boy. There is the door. Make sure you shut it on the way out."

Giada locked eyes with the man towering over them both, and with another muttered curse, Giorgio shrugged his shoulders in defeat. He bent down to brush a feather light kiss across Jemima's lips, and with one last brooding look of hurt, male pride he was gone.

Silence descended on the opulent room like a suffocating blanket, and Jemima's heartbeat sped up again, when one small hand cupped her chin to make her look into crystal blue eyes, drawn together in a frown.

"They say you have amnesia. Is that true?"

"Yes."

"How convenient,
for you.
Not so much for anyone else, is it?"

"I'm sure I don't know what you mean." Jemima inched up the bed a bit, moaning at the wave of pain from her ribs as she did so, all too aware of those eyes still assessing her.

"You should know I am very fond of Giorgio, and anyone who hurts him or my husband's interests tends to … well … let's just say it's not conducive to one's health. But then you have found that out already."

Jemima swallowed nervously at the barely concealed threat and the steel in those eyes, still boring through her.

"Trust me, if I remembered anything of worth I would tell him."

Giada's smile didn't reach her eyes.

"Hmm trust,
si
. Trust is earned, is it not? Why should I trust you? My husband doesn't. In fact, if it wasn't for Giorgio's unexpected attachment to you…"

"I wouldn't be here, right."  Jemima interrupted her, sudden anger spurring her on. "As if I would want to be. Who in their right mind would want to be caught up in all this … this nightmare? I didn't even know Giorgio was involved in all of this, until I woke up in that hospital bed. He should have just left me there."

Her voice broke on the last few words, and she resolutely blinked the tears away.
Stop being such a goddamn watering pot, girl. This isn't helping anything.

Giada smiled thoughtfully, her gaze resting on the huge diamond ring on Jemima's hand, and her next words made Jemima's head come up in surprise.

"Last time I saw that ring was on my best friend's hand."

"You knew Giorgio's mother?"

"Si,
I did. He is my godson, and when Annamaria died in that crash, Luigi and I tried our best to look after him. Beppe Giovanni did not make it easy." Her delicate features tightened in disapproval for just an instant, before her chilly smile made Jemima flinch. "Of course, he eventually drank himself to death with his whores. He was always the bad sheep of the Giovanni. Every family has one, after all, and for a while Giorgio looked all set to follow."

"But he didn't?" Jemima held her breath, intrigued beyond belief at this sudden insight into his past. A past he never spoke of. How she could be so sure of that, Jemima didn't know. The knowledge was just there, sitting on her heart, like a dead weight.

"No, he didn't. Luigi wouldn't let him, and neither would I. He threw himself into the business instead and made Giovanni wines what they are now. His only commitment has been to that vineyard." Giada smiled again, one finger tapping that ring. "Until now, that is, and I can't help wondering why?"

Jemima ignored that question. Something else bothered her far more.

"So, he isn't … I mean he's not one of … hell."

"Giorgio is family in every sense of the word. You do not opt out of this, Jemima, and when one marries into the
family
there is no get out clause, ever. Which again makes me wonder why you? Especially, as you ran out on him back then."

"You know about that?"

The harsh laugh made her wince.

"Of course I do, my dear. Who do you think was there for him when you did? And stopped Luigi from ending this right then?"

Jemima swallowed nervously again at the steel and condemnation in those words.

"I … I wasn't thinking clearly then, but I did the only thing I could. I was no good for him, and I tried to fix it, I really did. I was putting the recipe back, when he found me."

Blue eyes widened in astonishment, and Jemima pushed on. Getting her to understand was suddenly of the utmost importance. This woman was the closest Giorgio had to a mother; she had to know what really happened. Maybe then Giorgio would believe her, too?

"I mean, I was going to steal it.  They offered me a lot of money and I needed it, but I … couldn't do that to him. Not once I got to know him, so I put it back, but he caught me and, well … I had to leave. I was leaving anyway. I had to. I had no choice. They were going to … they threatened to…"

The sound of disgust coming from Giada made her shiver. She didn't believe her; of course she didn't. Giorgio hadn't either. Why would they, when she couldn't even explain her actions to herself? She had been such a foolish, stupid girl, thinking the world owed her, and she could do anything and damn the consequences.