Chapter 12 A Family History
A Family History
Nico leads me across the room to the large four-poster bed, and I gratefully drop onto the pillowy mattress with a happy sigh. “You’re wearing too many clothes. Didn’t we talk about that the last time? You should take them off while I watch.” I haul myself up the bed and lean back on my elbows.
“If that is what you wish, Bello, that is what will happen.” He slips his hands beneath his shirt, running his fingers over his abdomen, pushing the cloth up little by little, displaying gloriously bronzed skin and tight muscles.
The fabric dips and rises as he caresses his torso, gliding his fingers through the wonderfully thick coating of hair over his chest. With a wink, he finally pulls his shirt over his head and drops it to the floor, gauging my reaction as he opens the front of his pants, taking his time, teasing me.
I leer, showing my avid appreciation. “You have all of these wonderful talents. If you ever get tired of running a wine empire, you could earn a small fortune working as a Companion. You’d be the favorite within a week.
” Nico grins wickedly and nudges his pants over his hips, low enough to show the barest hint of hair but high enough not to reveal anything exciting.
“That is possibly the most uniquely interesting and sexy suggestion anyone has ever made to me.” He laughs and kicks off his boots before dropping his pants to the floor. Like a cat stalking prey, he slinks across the bed, flopping next to me and stretching languidly.
My fingers itch to touch his beautiful body, but something is bothering me. “You know, we weren’t that quiet on the balcony.”
Nico holds up a finger, interrupting me. “You were not that quiet on the balcony. My mouth was otherwise occupied.”
I laugh, nudging him. “Fair enough. I wasn’t that quiet. Why hasn’t someone come to investigate the noise? What about your father? Or your servants?”
He stiffens a bit. “My father and I do not interact much. We are more like friendly acquaintances than father and son.”
That shocks me, given how open and affectionate Nico is. What caused a rift like that? “I’m sorry.”
Propping himself up on an elbow, he caresses my arm with his fingertips.
“It is fine. We get along, but ever since Mamma died, he has been distant. He never recovered from her death, and as I mentioned before, I take after her.” He shrugs one shoulder.
“Here, let me show you.” Rolling off the bed, he strides to the desk in the corner of the room.
I follow him with my gaze, taking the opportunity to admire the way his beautiful body moves.
For such a large man, he’s very graceful and marvelously fit.
He comes back and sits next to me on the edge of the bed, holding out a miniature portrait.
It’s the size of a standard Earth cell phone, and I take it gingerly, gazing at the face of a beautiful woman with regal bearing, pale skin, long straight black hair, and the same full lips and brilliant silver eyes as her son.
“She was truly lovely. I can see that you do take after her.” I hand the miniature back and comb my fingers through Nico’s dark hair.
“And where do these incredibly sexy curls come from?”
“Those are from my father. I also have his height. Mamma was petite, but she had such a temper!” He laughs and presses into me as if he’s trying to share the memory through physical contact.
“They used to laugh all the time. She was always smiling, and he adored her. He would bring her small gifts and hide them throughout the house in places she would find. There would be a single flower from the garden waiting for her each night before supper. Some nights, they would dance on the patio though there was no music. As a child, I found that confusing.” His smile turns bittersweet.
“They were very tactile. He would caress her hair as he walked past her, and she would touch his arm when they spoke. They were always giving me hugs and kisses, and I never once doubted their love for me. But she was taken from us, and Papa was never the same. The life went out of him. And I guess I was a painful reminder of what we had lost.” There’s a flash of deep hurt in his eyes, and I understand his devastation at her passing, especially at such a young age.
It may have been dulled by time and acceptance, but it’s still there.
“It was months after her death before I saw him again. He locked himself in his rooms and refused to come out.”
I take his hand in mine and squeeze, trying to offer him something. Maybe the human contact he’d been denied. “And who took care of you while this was happening?”
He looks at our hands, placing his free one on top.
“Anna and Emilio. They were servants in my mother’s house before she married Papa.
Anna was Mamma’s personal maid, and Emilio was Mamma’s tutor.
When Mamma came here to live, they came with her.
He became my tutor when I was old enough to begin my studies. They are more like family now.”
My heart rate picks up, though I don’t let it show. This conversation is an opening I can’t let pass. “What about other family?” I remain calm and wait for the reply.
He shakes his head. “Mamma was an only child, and her parents had already passed before she did. On Papa’s side, it’s just my Uncle Lorenzo.”
I try not to react. “He wasn’t there to help your father?”
“No, he and Papa had a falling out right after Mamma died.” A wave of relief washes over me, though I keep my expression sympathetic. The falling out is no guarantee that Nico and his father weren’t involved in Kas’s death, but it makes it less likely.
I steer the conversation to something else I’ve wanted to know. “May I ask how she died? You don’t need to answer if it’s too painful.”
He continues to stroke my arm as though I’m the one who needs comforting.
“She fell ill suddenly. All that day she was fine. But after supper and all through that evening, she complained of a stomachache and dizziness. The healers thought it was something she ate or perhaps some common illness. They could not find anything wrong with her, so they left us a few potions and said it should pass by morning. By the middle of the night, she had difficulty breathing. The healers were summoned again, and they tried everything, but nothing worked. By morning, she was gone.”
I grasp Nico’s hand and squeeze it in what I hope is a comforting way.
Outwardly, I remain relaxed, but my mind is racing.
The mother dies; the uncle and father have a fight so terrible that they never speak again.
I’m jumping to conclusions, but with cause, given my profession.
Sudden illnesses are never something I put much stock in.
Especially when the healers can’t seem to help and the house’s garden is filled with toxic plants.
“And that happened here?” He nods, and I know I’m right.
“Forgive my asking, but did anyone look for signs of poisoning?”
His eyebrows shoot up in surprise, and his brow furrows. “Why? Who would want to poison Mamma?”
Even without a clear motive, I can think of several suspects with minimal effort, especially given Lorenzo’s proximity to the situation, but that’s not something I necessarily want to share.
At least not now. “You’re right. Forgive me.
” It’s something I’ll be investigating after Cosimo’s dealt with.
He rolls to the edge of the bed and places the portrait on the side table.
I move with him and press against his back, kissing his neck.
“I’m sorry if I upset you.” I slide my hand around his torso and slip my fingers through the thick hair on his chest. “Let me make it up to you. I still owe you for earlier.”
It’s said lightheartedly, but the words seem to upset him. He rolls over and grabs me by the shoulders, eyes hard, mouth set in a firm line. “You owe me nothing.”
I freeze. That’s not at all the reaction I’m expecting. “Have I done something wrong?” I think about each time on the balcony when he refused to allow me to put my hands or mouth on him. “Why won’t you let me touch you?”
He sits up, clearly frustrated. “I did not mean for you to—you are not obligated—what I mean is, that is not something I expect you to—Fucking hells, Bello!” I’d laugh if I weren’t so confused.
I’m not even sure he realizes he’s adopted the Earth swear.
Nico gets up and paces at the foot of the bed, looking anywhere but at me.
He thrusts his finger at the balcony, and I instinctively glance in that direction, on full alert.
“What happened out there? I did that because I wanted to. That was not a transaction.” I snap my eyes to Nico’s.
“That was me wanting to give you something, without expectation of anything in return.” I blink at him, utterly confused as to where this rage is coming from.
He finally looks directly at me. “I wanted to show you that I care for you.” He drags his fingers through his hair and drops onto the edge of the bed with a bounce, his back toward me.