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Tuscan Heat
Deborah Fletcher Mello
In the name of loveA coveted teaching invitation gives Donovan Boudreaux the chance to leave his New Orleans comfort zone and meet his secret email pen pal—world-renowned author Gianna Martelli. But when he arrives at the Martelli wine chateau in Tuscany, he discovers he’s been deceived. His misgivings dwindle as Gianna introduces him to the hidden pleasures of Italy—and a passion that takes both Donovan and the reclusive writer by surprise.Gianna loves her simple life on her family’s legendary vineyards. Until her matchmaking twin initiates a clandestine correspondence. Determined to make amends, Gianna soon realizes that she and the charming professor share a bond that can’t be found in books. A friendship soon flames into an intense affair they know can’t last forever. And now a vindictive rival could destroy Donovan’s reputation, career and any hope of a future with Gianna…
In the name of love
A coveted teaching invitation gives Donovan Boudreaux the chance to leave his New Orleans comfort zone and meet his secret email pen pal—world-renowned author Gianna Martelli. But when he arrives at the Martelli wine chateau in Tuscany, he discovers he’s been deceived. His misgivings dwindle as Gianna introduces him to the hidden pleasures of Italy—and a passion that takes both Donovan and the reclusive writer by surprise.
Gianna loves her simple life on her family’s legendary vineyards. Until her matchmaking twin initiates a clandestine correspondence. Determined to make amends, Gianna soon realizes that she and the charming professor share a bond that can’t be found in books. A friendship soon flames into an intense affair they know can’t last forever. And now a vindictive rival could destroy Donovan’s reputation, career and any hope of a future with Gianna…
He laughed heartily. “Gianna Martelli has a little bit of a jealous streak,” he teased.
“I do not!”
“Yes, you do.” He reached for her hand, entwining her fingers between his own. His touch was electric, the current between them combustible. “And I kind of like it,” he said, his voice dropping to a loud whisper. “But if I’m honest,” he continued after another brief pause, “I’m really hoping that you and I are seeing each other. Or getting close to that point.”
The hint of a smile danced across her face. His touch was heated, fire coursed through her palm, up the length of her arm and exploded with a vengeance through her body. A tingle ran down her spine and back up, the sensations a shiver away from orgasmic.
She suddenly pulled her hand from his, color heating her cheeks. Turning her body around, she lay back against him, resting her head in his lap. She pulled a grape from the bunch in her hands and slid it into her mouth.
Dear Reader (#ulink_6ba14f07-d544-581b-ad75-db820126a7d1),
The Stallion-Boudreaux clan continue to thrill me! I love these two families, and telling their stories has been so fulfilling.
Tuscan Heat brings us back to the Boudreaux side of the family alliance. Donovan Boudreaux takes us to one of my favorite places in the whole wide world! Everything about Italy screams romance and love, and Donovan finds it in the most unlikely manner.
As I’ve said many times before, there could be no Boudreaux story without that foundation of family, friends and faith. Like his siblings, Donovan is very much his own man. He’s a tad conservative and maybe even a little introverted. Gianna Martelli and her big, bold personality are a formidable challenge. She’s fire to his ice, and together they will melt your heart! I so hope you enjoy their journey as they find love.
Thank you so much for your continued support. I am humbled by all the love you keep showing me, my characters and our stories. I know that none of this would be possible without you.
Until the next time, please take care and may God’s blessings be with you always.
With much love,
Deborah Fletcher Mello
deborahmello.blogspot.com (http://deborahmello.blogspot.com)
Tuscan Heat
Deborah Fletcher Mello
www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)
DEBORAH FLETCHER MELLO has been writing since foreve and can’t imagine herself doing anything else. Her first romance novel, Take Me to Heart, earned her a 2004 Romance Slam Jam nomination for Best New Author. In 2005 she received Book of the Year and Favorite Heroine nominations for her novel The Right Side of Love, and in 2009 she won an RT Reviewer’s Choice Award for her ninth novel, Tame a Wild Stallion. With each new book Deborah continues to create unique storylines and memorable characters.
Born and raised in Connecticut, Deborah now considers home to be wherever the moment moves her.
To my Muse
for keeping me dreaming.
You make my heart sing!
Contents
Cover (#ub766219b-88b8-5912-b8e8-1c1579361056)
Back Cover Text (#ud662a25a-ffe9-5219-a4ba-9ad0aacfa369)
Introduction (#u782373d2-5ce7-5c63-bccd-502f0ace74b1)
Dear Reader (#ulink_6877ca47-65d1-596f-a130-ae5ec2f27777)
Title Page (#u19711f52-267d-578f-a5e7-8902e50b8c7d)
About the Author (#u5034bca8-1245-51d9-8af7-ac3276667635)
Dedication (#uc8481dfb-d7d3-5cd4-8c2d-5614509ba01a)
Family Tree (#u79ffefac-1450-575a-abfa-d811e09115f2)
Chapter 1 (#ulink_a1357934-601c-521f-bb1f-1f45b8d021d8)
Chapter 2 (#ulink_e64c3869-ebfe-5a86-9776-f7e60f37fac4)
Chapter 3 (#ulink_088b2169-1165-5fba-b47d-a38ce061ad59)
Chapter 4 (#ulink_b87bd23e-d6b8-535e-8d4d-37c994935ac4)
Chapter 5 (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter 6 (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter 7 (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter 8 (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter 9 (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter 10 (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter 11 (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter 12 (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter 13 (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter 14 (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter 15 (#litres_trial_promo)
Copyright (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter 1 (#ulink_b5dfa557-65c5-599a-9570-fc6b83ebc61e)
She and her sister were identical twins, and most people were never able to tell the two women apart. But Gianna Martelli had taken a pair of scissors to her sibling Carina’s dark locks, cutting the young woman’s waist-length tresses to pixie short. Carina’s natural curls were suddenly less abundant as she stood in the center of the room, her head waving slowly from side to side to show off her new hairdo to their family.
“Wow!” Graham Porter exclaimed, his dark eyes shifting back and forth between the two women. “Wow!”
“What’s that mean?” Carina questioned, her eyebrows lifted as she tossed her husband a look. “Why do you keep saying wow like that?” A wave of panic flashed across her face. “You don’t like it!”
He met the look his wife was giving him, holding his hands up defensively. “No... I mean yes... I do! It’s just unexpected,” he said, turning to his father-in-law for assistance. “What do you think, Franco?”
Franco Martelli grinned. “It’s lovely, daughter. But it’s a definite change. And like Graham said, it’s unexpected! I think what your husband is trying to say is that you’ve surprised us, is all.”
“I told you to trust me,” Gianna said as Carina smiled, pulling her hands through the new short length of her hair. “It really does look great!”
“Are you going to cut yours, too?” Franco asked, turning in his seat to stare at Gianna.
The young woman shrugged. “I was thinking about it, but Carina doesn’t want me to.”
“I want us to look different,” Carina said. “Just for a little while. No one will mix us up now.”
Gianna rolled her eyes skyward, tossing the extensive length of her own dark waves over her shoulder. “It’s been forever since anyone last got us confused.”
“Last week at the market, Mrs. Falco thought I was you.”
“Mrs. Falco is half-blind,” Gianna said with an eye roll. “She gets papà and Graham mixed up!”
Graham chuckled as he rose to his feet, moving to his wife’s side. He leaned down to kiss her cheek. “It’s a very flattering style on you, sweetheart. I really like it,” he said softly. “You look beautiful!” He trailed a finger across Carina’s cheek, and she smiled brightly as he leaned in to kiss her lips.
Gianna threw the two a look, the faintest hint of jealousy furrowing her brow. She blew a low sigh. “You two need to get a room,” she quipped. She rose from her seat and moved toward the door. “I’ll be in my office. Some of us have work to do.”
“Speaking of,” Carina said, “I sorted your mail and typed up your notes. And your agent called. She needs to speak with you about the changes in your next contract.”
“I don’t have a next contract. I told you to tell her I’m not interested in what they’re offering.”
“I did, which is why she wants to speak with you.”
Gianna nodded. “I’ll call her,” she said, trying to ignore the gentle caresses passing between her sister and brother-in-law. The couple’s very public displays of affection were often distracting and unsettling, the love the two shared enviable. Gianna couldn’t help but wish that she had what they had. With one last wave of her hand she turned and disappeared from the room.
Behind the closed door of her office, Gianna ran her fingers through her own thick tresses, pulling the wealth of her hair up into a high bun. She found herself wishing that she’d cut her own hair first, motivated by the effort it took to maintain the lengthy locks. That, and she found herself in want of a change. One that might bring a man into her life with a slow hand that glided like silk across her bare skin. She blew a low sigh as she turned to stare out the window to the landscape outside.
The sun was shining brightly, and she had full view of the family’s vineyards. Their family home was situated in the Ombrone Valley, one of the most beautiful stretches of countryside in Italy. She stared out to the Chianti vines, the cornfields and the lengthy rows of cypress trees. In the distance the expanse of chestnut forests reached up to kiss the bright blue sky. The view paid homage to unparalleled art, the land a masterpiece of blessings. For a brief moment Gianna sat staring at the beauty, lost in her thoughts as the morning’s bright rays peeked through the window to kiss the round of her high cheekbones.
She blew one last sigh as she spun around in her leather executive’s chair toward her computer. Powering up the device, she waited for the unit to engage then typed in her password. Minutes later she stared at a blank screen, unable to decide in what direction she planned to take her next story. Writer’s block had suddenly crept in with a vengeance. When nothing came, she swung her chair around to stare back outside.
* * *
Donovan Boudreaux found the pomp and circumstance of the Catholic ceremony somewhat sobering. He was standing at the altar of Saint Patrick’s Church in New Orleans holding his niece, Cecily Boudreaux, in his arms. The infant was being christened, she and her twin brother, Sydney, both receiving the sacrament of spiritual cleansing and rebirth. Light shimmered through the stained glass that enclosed the building’s front turret.
He fought the urge to yawn as Father Charles Dussouy made the sign of the cross in front of one baby and then the other. He stared down into the infant’s sweet face as the priest announced her Christian name, sprinkled holy water over the child’s head and welcomed her into the congregation. She never once opened her eyes, barely shifting her small body when the water saturated her curls. Her brother, on the other hand, screamed at the top of his small lungs.
Donovan grinned as he and his brother Kendrick exchanged a look. Kendrick was rocking young Sydney vigorously, trying his very best to calm the baby down. But Sydney wasn’t having any of it, no ounce of consolation from his uncle and godfather bringing him any comfort. It wasn’t until the matriarch of the family, Katherine Boudreaux, lifted her grandchild from her son’s arms did the little guy finally settle down as she snuggled him against her chest. There was something about their mother’s touch that put them all at ease, and as each of her children watched, it made them all smile.
The private ceremony was over almost as quickly as it had begun. After the priest wished them well and disappeared from the sanctuary, the family stood in a protective circle around the twins, who’d been returned to their parents’ arms.
Mason “Senior” Boudreaux, the family patriarch, cleared his throat, swiping at a tear that lingered in the corners of his dark eyes. “Your mama and I are glad that all you kids could make it home to celebrate these babies,” he said, his tone low. The man’s gaze swept around the circle.
The eldest Boudreaux child patted his namesake’s broad shoulder. “Where else would we be, Senior? You know once you and Mama give the command we follow orders!” Mason Boudreaux III said.
His siblings laughed, their heads nodding in agreement. Donovan leaned to kiss his mother’s cheek, his arms wrapped around her shoulders as he hugged her close. His own eyes roved from one face to the other. There was no escaping the Boudreaux lineage. Their distinctive features hinted of an African-Asian ancestry, with their slight angular eyes, thin noses, high cheek lines and full, pouty lips. Side by side they were a kaleidoscope of colorations that ranged from burnt umber to milk chocolate.
His brother Mason, who could have passed for his twin, stood at his side. The low lines of their closely cropped haircuts complemented their distinctive facial features. Mason’s wife, Phaedra, clutched his elbow on his other side. Then there was his very pregnant sister, Maitlyn, and her husband, Zakaria Sayed. Maitlyn was the second child and oldest girl in the Boudreaux family. Standing beside them was his sister Katrina, who was a year younger than Donovan, with her husband, Matthew Stallion, and their two sons, Collin and Jacoby, or Baby Jake, as he was affectionately called. On his right side stood his younger brother Darryl, and Darryl’s wife, Camryn, who held their newborn baby, Alexa Michelle, in her arms. The twins, Kendrick and Kamaya were next, Kamaya linked arm in arm with their baby sister, Tarah, and Kendrick’s wife, Vanessa. His brother Guy, and Guy’s wife, Dahlia, the twins’ parents, closed their family circle. In that moment, the love between them all billowed like the sweetest breeze all around.
“Can we please go eat now?” Tarah suddenly whined. “This lovefest has made me hungry.”
Katherine shook her head. “I declare, child! You are always hungry.”
“I would really like to know how you stay so thin!” Kamaya exclaimed, her head waving.
“Good genes,” Tarah said with a soft giggle.
Maitlyn rolled her eyes, slapping a hand against her hips. “We have those same genes, so I don’t think that’s it,” she said with a warm chuckle.
They all headed in the direction of the exit and home. Minutes later the joy and laughter continued at the Boudreaux family’s Broadway Street house. The food was abundant, plates overflowing as the family all caught up, conversation sweeping from one room to the other.
“I like the name Rose. Rose Lynne Sayed,” Maitlyn was saying, her hand gliding in a tight circle across her abdomen. “Although Zak is still insisting we’re having a boy!” she said, leaning in to whisper with her sisters. “He even told the technician that did the ultrasound that she didn’t know what she was talking about.”
Kamaya laughed. “At least it’s not twins!”
“I wouldn’t mind having twins,” Tarah said. “A boy and a girl. You get it all done in one shot. Dahlia never has to be pregnant again. How perfect is that? You, on the other hand, might have to do it again to get a boy. Maybe even twice.”
“If I had thought that way after Kendrick and Kamaya were born, you wouldn’t be here,” their mother interjected as she joined in the conversation. She took the seat beside Tarah, giving her daughter’s ponytail a playful tug.
Kamaya laughed. “I know!”
Katherine turned her attention to Donovan, who was leaning against the home’s brick fireplace, a glass of red wine in his hand. “So, Donovan, what’s going on with you? What’s the big news you wanted to share?”
“Yeah, Don Juan! Are you engaged? Pregnant? What?” Tarah said teasingly.
“You have to date first,” Kamaya said with a deep chuckle. “Are you finally dating, big brother?”
Donovan shook his head, amused by his sisters’ teasing. “Don’t call me Don Juan,” he said, cutting an eye at Tarah.
“What’s going on?” Kendrick asked, moving into the room. “Who’s calling who names?”
“Tarah,” Mason said, sauntering in on his brother’s heels. “You don’t even need to ask.”
