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“Do I even want to ask?” Donovan said.
“Nope! Because if I tell you I’ll have to shoot you, and we don’t want to ruin your trip.” Kendrick laughed as he changed the subject. “So, are you excited?”
“I’m nervous. Not scared,” he emphasized, “but nervous.”
“About teaching? That’s your thing, bro! Why would you be nervous?”
Donovan met his brother’s curious stare. “I just...well...” he stammered, his eyes skating back and forth as he tried to choose his words carefully. “There’s someone...a woman... She...”
Kendrick eyed him with a raised brow. “Okay, spill it. What aren’t you telling me?”
There was a moment of pause before Donovan answered, lost in his thoughts about Gianna as he reflected on what he knew about the woman.
From her bio, he’d discovered that she held two advanced degrees in science and mathematics. From their communications, he knew that she abhorred traditional intellectual attitudes. So much so that she’d been initially reluctant to communicate with him when she discovered he was a professor.
From reading her novels, he knew that she was proficient at spinning a good thriller and murder mystery. Gianna had a talent for creating male protagonists who appealed to male readers. Despite her literary accolades, she was famously reclusive and purposely avoided the public eye, preferring to spend her time at her family’s Tuscan estate working in their winery.
From their exchanges, he took her to be something of a free spirit who practiced yoga religiously, followed an organic diet and was a self-professed nudist. She was passionate about the family’s Tuscan estate and winery, and had once stated that she would readily give up her pursuit of the next great novel to work the vineyards.
He took a deep breath. “I have a friend there, and I’m nervous about meeting her,” he said finally. “We’ve only communicated by email.”
Kendrick grinned, his smile full and bright. “A friend? When did you get a friend? Who’s a girl? In Italy?” he questioned, crossing his arms over his chest.
Donovan felt his own grin spread full and wide across his face. “We’ve been acquainted for a while now.”
“And she’s Italian?”
Donovan nodded.
“Is she in education, too?”
“She’s a writer. Her name is Gianna.”
Kendrick paused for a moment. “Gianna Martelli? The author of Mayhem and Madness?”
“You know her?”
“I know her writing. Vanessa bought me a copy of her book to read. It’s really good.”
“She’s extremely talented,” Donovan stated.
“She’s also quite the looker, if I remember correctly,” Kendrick noted with a nod.
Donovan shrugged. “She’s all right,” he said, trying to keep his tone in check.
Kendrick gave him a swift punch to his upper arm. “Look at you, big brother! I think you’re actually blushing! Wait until I tell the family!”
Donovan laughed, lifting his hands up as if in surrender. “You wouldn’t. You cannot tell the girls! I would never live it down.” He mocked his sisters, imitating Tarah’s shrill tone. “Don Juan has a girlfriend? Don Juan is actually speaking to a woman? Let’s give Don Juan some advice!”
Kendrick laughed heartily. “You’re right. I can’t do that to you!”
“Thank you!” He changed the subject. “So have you and Vanessa decided on a honeymoon spot yet?”
As the two men continued their conversation, the flight attendant gestured for their attention. “Gentlemen, we’re ready for you to board now,” the woman said politely. She gave them both a smile, her gaze shifting between them.
Donovan reached for his carry-on bag and led the way. Minutes later the two men sat comfortably, secured in the plush leather seats as the plane taxied down the runway. He relished the camaraderie he shared with his siblings. He could laugh easily with his brothers, and since it wasn’t often that the two were able to spend time together, he was grateful that Kendrick was taking the trip with him, whatever the other man’s reasons.
Donovan also didn’t mind the teasing from any of his family. He knew that no matter what, he had their support, and the tight bond they all shared was unconditional. But as he thought about Gianna and what might be waiting for him when they finally landed, he was only willing to share so much about the exquisite woman and what he felt about their unique situation. As he stared out the window, watching as the plane lifted easily into the cloud-filled sky, Donovan took a deep breath and then another, hoping that the fear he felt in his heart didn’t show on his face.
* * *
Sophie Mugabe and Alessandra Donati stood at the arrival gate of Pisa International Airport waiting for the American professor to gather his luggage and exit the travel center. Both were excited as they stood with handmade signs, Donovan’s name printed in bold black letters across both sides.
Sophie was Donovan’s host and the department chair at the University of Siena. She’d been following him since they’d first met three years earlier at the International Conference on Mathematics and Statistics. That year the conference had been held in London, and Donovan had been presenting the theories he’d published in his book, The Deconstruction of Associative Algebras of Prime Characteristic.
Sophie had been enamored from day one, her enthusiasm for the professor and his work almost compulsive. Her regular emails had been just shy of stalking, but he’d been exceptionally kind in his responses. The prospect of getting to know him personally through the next year had her excited in a way she would have never imagined. She was fighting to contain the emotion bubbling through her midsection, desperate to maintain her decorum in front of her student.
Alessandra Donati stood with indifference, her gaze sweeping around the airport lobby. Since the girl’s freshman year, Professor Mugabe had mistaken her proficiency with mathematics for interest, singling her out for attention that Alessandra had neither needed nor wanted. But the perks of being the teacher’s pet outweighed the disadvantages. So despite wanting to be in Venice with her friends who’d driven up for the day, she’d agreed to come with her mentor to welcome some visiting professor from the United States. She sighed heavily as she looked down at the thin gold watch on her wrist.
“He’s landed,” Sophie said, excitement ringing in her tone. “It should not be too much longer now.”
Alessandra forced a smile onto her face. She was about to comment when she caught sight of the college professor, the man eyeing them both curiously. The distinguished black man smiled sweetly, and the gesture took her breath away. Tall, dark and handsome to the nth degree, he actually had her heartbeat fluttering. She threw her teacher a quick look, not missing the other woman’s glazed stare. Her professor was likewise moved.
“He’s quite handsome, isn’t he?” Sophie muttered as she waved excitedly.
Alessandra chuckled beneath her breath. “Oh, yes, he is!” she exclaimed.
“Professor Mugabe! What a surprise!” Donovan said, moving to their side. He leaned in to give his benefactor a warm embrace.
“Dr. Boudreaux, welcome to Italy! I could not let you arrive and not be here personally to welcome you. I hope that your trip was pleasant?”
Donovan nodded. “The flight was great. My brother flew with me, and it gave us an opportunity to catch up.”
Sophie tossed a look over his shoulder, her eyes skating back and forth. “Your brother is with you?”
Donovan smiled again. “He’s actually headed on to Greece as soon as they refuel his plane.”
Alessandra cleared her throat, stepping forward for attention. Her eyes swept from one to the other, settling on the beautiful black man.
Sophie tapped her hand to her forehead. “Forgive me. Where are my manners! Dr. Boudreaux, allow me to introduce you to one of our prized students. This is Alessandra Donati. Alessandra is a senior mathematics major. She’s quite gifted and looking forward to being in your class this semester.”
Alessandra smiled, her gaze narrowing ever so slightly. “Dr. Boudreaux, it’s very nice to meet you,” she said as she tossed the length of her blond hair over her shoulder. She extended a manicured hand in his direction as she batted her false eyelashes.
“The pleasure is mine, Ms. Donati,” he said, shaking her hand.
“I was very excited to hear that you would be coming to the university. Your paper on Lie algebras was quite engaging.”
Donovan laughed. “It really wasn’t, but I appreciate you saying so.”
The young woman’s smile was bright, the glint in her eye even brighter.
Sophie interrupted the moment. “I thought we’d get you settled into your cottage, then take you by the school and out for your first meal here in Italy. Unless you have other plans?”
Donovan took a deep breath. “I’d actually love to visit the school, but I’m having dinner with friends. I apologize, I didn’t know...”
She shook her head swiftly, interrupting his comment. “Oh, please, no apology necessary. I just thought I’d make the offer.”
“You have friends here in Tuscany?” Alessandra asked.
Donovan smiled. “Yes, Gianna Martelli and the Martelli family. They have a vineyard in the heart of the Tuscan Maremma, not far from the province of Grosseto.”
Both women shrugged indifferently. “Martelli is a very common name here in Italy,” Sophie said, disappointment shimmering in her tone.
Donovan nodded. “Perhaps we can have breakfast in the morning and you can show me around? I’m very excited to see the campus and get acquainted with the faculty.”
The older woman grinned. “Definitely! That is definitely doable.”
* * *
Gianna was as nervous as her sister, the two women scurrying about trying to ensure everything was perfect before Donovan Boudreaux arrived for dinner. Freshly cut flowers decorated the home, resting atop the tables and counters. All the windows had been opened, and a warm breeze blew like a whisper through the space. A roasted chicken scented the air, and handmade pasta waited on the wooden countertop to be dropped into lightly salted water.
Franco and Graham exchanged a look as both women came to an abrupt halt, eyeing each other from across the room. A silent conversation passed between them, something unique that only they understood. The brevity of it could have filled a thimble, but in that brief moment there was something magnanimous that happened between them.
Gianna sighed softly, and as if she’d caught the warm breath, Carina folded her hand into a tight fist, pulling it to the spot between her breasts. Both women smiled, and then just as abruptly resumed their frantic fussing about.
Franco broke the silence. “Have you spoken to this man, Gianna?” he asked curiously.
She paused to meet her father’s stare. “I sent him a text message. His flight should have landed by now, and once he gets settled he’s going to find his way here.”
“Did you want me to go get him?” Graham asked.
“No!” both women answered in unison.
“It’s just a ride!” Graham replied, bristling slightly.
“You would tell him. I know you,” Carina said.
Gianna nodded in agreement. “It has to come from us. From Carina.”
“Why from me?” her sister asked, turning to stare at Gianna.
“Because this is all your fault. You’re the one who allowed this lie to snowball.”
“You could have told him already,” Carina said. “You’ve been emailing back and forth for the last two weeks. So you’ve been playing in that snow, too!”
“I could have,” Gianna said matter-of-factly. “But then he might not have come.” She cut an eye in Carina’s direction.
Her sister laughed. “I knew you would like him!”
“I find him interesting. So, yes, I’m curious.”
Carina jumped up and down excitedly. “You really like him!” she exclaimed.
Franco laughed as he rose from his seat, peering out the front window. “That’s a good thing because your new friend just pulled up outside!”
Chapter 4 (#ulink_121bf446-557a-50b7-9052-a742c7a6c12d)
Donovan stood nervously outside the luxury villa. After settling into the one bedroom cottage the university had rented for him for the next year, he’d asked the property owner for directions to the winery. The rotund woman looked like soft biscuit dough and spoke little if any English. She had stared at him, chattering away in Italian, and despite the obvious communication issues, he’d felt right at home. It had taken a moment, but she’d eventually pointed him in the direction of the groundskeeper, who spoke perfect English and had been happy to give him a ride.
Donovan had read the winery’s promotional brochures, scouring their website for anything he could learn. Cantina Moderna was a restored country farmhouse situated on a luxurious hilltop. It was surrounded by vineyards and olive groves, and the views were breathtaking. He knew from his readings that the entire wine estate included the vineyards, a state-of-the-art wine cellar and the private villa.
The bottaia, or wine cellar, was modern, yet sat in perfect harmony with the surrounding landscape. It showcased massive, hand-hewn oak barrels that held aged and refined wine. There was a meeting room that looked out to the Ombrone Valley and could host up to sixty people, and a tasting room with panoramic views equipped with one hundred indoor seats and a professional, gourmet kitchen. There were also rooms for the actual wine-making and a warehouse that had been designed to carry out the production needs of the winery from wine-making to bottling.
Now, standing at the edge of the floral beds that bordered the stunning home and wine facility, Donovan found himself feeling like a teen on his first date, anxiety flooding every muscle in his body. In one hand, he held a stunning bouquet of orange and pink roses, lisianthus, orchids and vibrant green ruscus tied with a simple yellow ribbon. In the other, he clutched a bottle of homemade strawberry vinaigrette, courtesy of his landlady, because how could you bring wine to a family with their own winery? He took a deep breath, and then a second one before moving slowly toward the entrance to knock on the front door.
Donovan was just about to knock a second time when Franco Martelli swung open the door, greeting him cheerily. The man pumped his arm enthusiastically as the two shook hands. “Benvenuto, Dr. Boudreaux!” he said as he pulled him inside the home, the door closing easily behind them.
Donovan smiled. “Buonasera, Signor Martelli. Thank you for having me in your home.”
“Please, call me Franco.” The patriarch gestured around the room. “Let me introduce you,” he said as he pointed to a man sitting on a stool at an oversize counter. “This is my son-in-law, Graham Porter. Graham is married to my daughter Carina.”
Graham came to his feet, extending his hand in greeting. “It’s nice to meet you,” he said, eyeing Donovan with reservation.
Donovan nodded. “The pleasure is mine. Gianna has told me a lot about you. She holds you in very high regard.”
Graham smiled ever so slightly as he and Franco exchanged a look. “The girls should be out in a moment,” he said. “You know how women do. It takes forever to make sure their faces are just right.”
Donovan nodded his understanding. “I have four sisters. I understand perfectly.”
“If you are like my husband and my father, then I’m sure you exaggerate,” a warm voice chimed from the other side of the room. “We really are not that bad.”
Donovan turned, his eyes skipping anxiously in the direction of the voice. He was greeted by a bright smile, the young woman moving quickly to his side. “Donovan, hello. I’m Carina Martelli-Porter. Gianna’s sister. Welcome!”
“Carina, hello!”
“How was your trip?”
His head continued to bob up and down. “It was good. Very good. Thank you for asking.”
Carina moved to her husband’s side. An awkward silence suddenly filled the space, the family watching Donovan anxiously. They all seemed to take a collective breath, heavy sighs blowing around the room.
Carina pressed a palm to her husband’s chest. “Darling, pour Dr. Boudreaux a glass of wine!” she said, her voice quivering ever so slightly. She shifted her gaze in Donovan’s direction.
“Dr. Boudreaux, please, have a seat!” she said as she gestured toward the couch with her hand.
“Thank you, and please, call me Donovan.”
He suddenly remembered the bottle in his hand. “This is for the family. It’s...”
