The American Contessa by Noni Calbane Read Free Book Online Page B

“I must say Count
Manetti, I’m surprised that you would want to be in the same restaurant, let
alone at the same table as a classless, tasteless, social climbing American
such as myself.   Maybe your taste is slipping.”
    Recognising
his own words thrown back at him, Luca’s mouth dropped open.
    “Yes,”
she said slowly.   “I understand
Italian.   And I heard exactly what you
think about Americans and… what you think about …me.”   Her voice faded away.
    The
urge to reach out to her was immense.   The fact that he actually cared what she thought of him was
mystifying.   He’d hurt her, and he
cared.   And he had no idea how to handle
a situation such as this.   This hunger
for her was something that would not be easily sated but it had nothing to do
with caring.   He wanted her, badly.   But he didn’t want to want her.  
    She
was an American.   And he didn’t like or
trust Americans.   Didn’t she conceal the
fact that she’d heard his comments, only to now use them as a weapon against
him?   An Italian woman would have
confronted him at the party.   And he
probably would have received a smack upside the head for his insults!  
    No.   As much as he wanted her, he had to keep his
distance.    She would leave Italy shortly
and things would get back to normal.   His
libido included.   In the meantime,
keeping up her distaste for him was imperative.   If she softened towards him, he wouldn’t be able to resist her.
    He
exhaled indignantly. “Do you make it a habit of eavesdropping at parties?” he
callously retorted.  
    Gaby
gasped loudly.   “What else would you
expect from a tacky American?” she declared furiously.
    Luca
smirked at her.   “Very little.   I expect very little.   Except for the obvious of course.”   His eyes raked over her body with contempt.
    Gaby
looked to the ground and could feel the tears stinging the back of her
eyes.   She choked it back. She couldn’t let
it deter her from saying her piece.   He’d
had this coming since the moment she’d encountered him at the party.   Reigning in her distress and antagonism, she
spoke calmly and quietly. “I feel truly sorry for you Count Manetti.   For all intents and purposes you possess
everything most women are looking for in a man.   Power.   Wealth.   Good looks.   Most women would think you lack nothing.   But I’m not most women.   You said at the party you weren’t
desperate.   Well, neither am I.”
    “Really?”   He smiled insolently, crossing his arms over
his chest.   “If you’re so discerning, how
do you explain your relationship with Whittaker?   He’s hardly brimming with character.”  
    Gaby
raised her chin at him.   “Easy.   There is no relationship,” she continued,
hands on hips. “Your party was my first and last date with him.   David Whittaker is a complete jerk.”
    Luca
chuckled.
    “Oh,
you find that funny Count Manetti?” she smiled.   “I’ll have you know that America doesn’t hold the monopoly on
jerks.   In fact, there are some rather
fine specimens here in Italy!”
    Luca
glared, his hands fisting at his sides.   The smile dropped from his face.   “You’re likening me to that … that …. Whittaker!”
    “If
the shoe fits, or should I say, if the Gucci shoe fits,” she threw back.
    Gaby
turned and crossed the street, eager to leave him in the dust.   She’d busted him, good and proper!   And the look on his face when he’d found out
she understood Italian was more than retribution.   It was a frigging Kodak moment!  
    Walking
quickly away, her anger cooled after a few blocks and she took in her
surroundings.   The architecture of
Florence was so beautiful that Gaby marvelled at the local inhabitants, gaily
filling the streets with laughter, seemingly oblivious to the history
encircling them.   The teacher in Gaby was
enthralled as she read the dates above antique wooden doors that led to the
courtyards of, what were now,