Falling For The Venetian Billionaire

With her thoughts on her friends, knowing she would be with them soon, Ginger sat back in the chair pleasantly tired and drank her coffee. Since January, Ginger had been in Italy digging for any fresh information on the life of the poet. Before Christmas her department head at Vanguard University in Costa Mesa, California, where she’d been teaching, had approached her.

Would she like to attend a workshop in Los Angeles on a new academic project about Lord Byron for the famous Hollywood film director Magda Collier? Her revered mogul friend would be producing it, and research was needed to supply original material for the screenwriters.

Ginger would have to leave the university for a semester and travel to Europe. After having lost her husband, Bruce, to cancer over two years before, Ginger had jumped at the opportunity to work in Italy, hoping for new experiences that would help put her pain behind her.

No man could ever replace Bruce. Her pain was doubly excruciating because he’d died before they could have children. Ginger had wanted children more than anything. Her therapist had suggested that since she’d dabbled in writing over the years, she should work on a children’s story, something her own children would have loved.

After so much sorrow and anguish over broken dreams, Ginger knew she needed to concentrate on something else and took her therapist’s advice.

At the seminar she’d met Zoe Perkins and Abby Grant, who’d also been hired. All three had obtained master’s degrees in literature from UCLA, San Jose State University and Stanford respectively, focusing on the romance poets and writers.

Abby had been sent to Switzerland and Zoe had been assigned to Greece, but all three of them had kept in touch through Skyping and phone calls. Her travels and theirs began to feed her imagination, and she got the idea to write about children around the world when she couldn’t do her research.

As Ginger had explained to the others at the table aboard ship, tomorrow she would take the train to Venice and spend time at the monastery in the afternoon. That evening she’d meet Zoe at the airport and they’d take the night train to Montreux, Switzerland, where they planned to pick up a hire car and then join up with Abby at Saint-Saphorin on Lake Geneva, where they’d begin their vacation.

Magda had rewarded them with a month’s stay on a vineyard there. They could use it for their home base while they did whatever they wanted.

Ginger turned to ask Dr. Manukyan a few more questions, but he suddenly said, “Excuse me for a minute,” and got up from the table.

Surprised, she watched him walk toward a thirtyish-looking man with raven black hair who’d just entered the dining room. Everything about him, including his elegant dark blue suit and tie, shouted sophistication and an aura of authority he probably wasn’t even aware of.

He stood tall and was the most gorgeous, virile Italian male she’d ever laid eyes on in her life. Every feature from his olive skin to his powerful jaw mesmerized her.

Her heart thumped as the two men walked over to the table. “Everyone,” Dr. Manukyan began, “I’d like to introduce you to SignorDella Scalla. He’s not only responsible for the souvenir menus you’ve all been given, he’s the one who made it possible for us to have dinner aboard ship this evening.”

“I hope you’re enjoying it.” The striking man spoke excellent English with an enticing Italian accent.

Della Scalla. The name was synonymous with one of the most renowned shipping and passenger lines in Italy, let alone Europe. But there were probably hundreds of Italians with the same last name.

Ginger listened while their host introduced the five members of their party to the stranger. When it came her turn, she found herself captivated by a pair of black-fringed cobalt-blue eyes the color of handblown Venetian glass.

Those penetrating orbs seemed to take her all in, as if he were searching for the very essence of her. For the first time since Bruce’s death, another man had managed to take her breath away. Who was he?

“It’s a pleasure to meet you,” he spoke to all of them, but his gaze remained focused on her.

“Won’t you sit with us for a moment?” Dr. Manukyan asked.

“Thank you, but I’m afraid I’m pressed for time. If you’re finished with your meal, does anyone need a ride back to Ravenna? It’ll be on my way. You’re welcome to come in the limo.”

Dr. Manukyan looked pleased. “We’re staying at the Palazzo Bezzi Hotel and were going to call for a taxi. But we’d love a ride, if it isn’t too far out of your way.”

“Not at all.”

“We appreciate your kindness for everything.”

“Let me escort you out.”

Ginger couldn’t credit that they’d be driving back to town with him. She stood up and followed the others to the elevator. It took them down to the deck, where they walked through the covered passageway to the dock.

A black gleaming limousine stood parked right there. Ginger was the last person to climb in. She decided this man had to be an important person, but she couldn’t ask Dr. Manukyan because they weren’t alone.

When SignorDella Scalla came around to help her in, she felt his arm brush hers by accident. A shiver of awareness ran through her.

He rode in front with the chauffeur. Before long they arrived at the hotel near the old town where she’d gone exploring early in the morning before meeting the group. Again, he was there to open the door. Everyone thanked him and said goodbye. Then it was her turn.

“Signora?”She looked up at him before getting out. She found herself drowning in his gaze once more. “How long are you going to be in Ravenna?”

Ginger’s heart was still overreacting, especially when she noticed he didn’t wear any rings. She wasn’t wearing any rings either. Whoever he was, Ginger couldn’t believe she felt such an instant attraction to him. Though she’d been coming to terms with her loss, she wasn’t sure about loving another man again. “I’m leaving tomorrow morning.”

He’d put both hands on the frame of the door, blocking her exit though she knew it wasn’t on purpose. “Where are you going next?”

“To Venice.”

“For a long visit?”

“Don’t I wish, but no. I only have one day before I leave on vacation.”

He cocked his head. “Only one? Couldn’t I convince you to stay on several more? We could meet at your hotel and I could show you around.”

A tremor shook her body. Ginger couldn’t help but be flattered by his interest. Other men had flirted with her while she’d been in Italy, but she’d never been tempted. Not until now. This Italian’s charisma was so overpowering, she couldn’t believe a man like him existed.

“I won’t be in Venice long enough to get a hotel.” Ginger’s heart was in her throat. “There isn’t enough time. I have to spend a good part of the day at the monastery where Lord Byron spent so many hours. It’s part of my job and the reason I’m here at all.”

For some reason the revelation caused his eyes to gleam. “Then be sure to ask for Father Giovanni. I know him well. He’s the resident expert.”

Dr. Manukyan hadn’t mentioned the monk’s name. “Thank you for the information. I’ll remember.”

“Where will you go next?”

He really wanted to know? “My friend and I will be taking the night train to Switzerland.”

His gaze played over her. “I see. He’s a lucky man.”

Ginger sucked in her breath. “No, no. I’m going with my friend Zoe, who’s flying in from Greece. She and I will be meeting another friend at a vineyard on Lake Geneva.”

Good heavens. Ginger had practically told him her life story and had found herself babbling like a schoolgirl. “Thank you for giving all of us a ride. Do you live here in Ravenna?” She found she wanted to know more about him.

“No. I’m a Venetian,” he said in his deep voice. “Unfortunately I have to get back to Venice tonight on business. But perhaps our paths will cross again.”

He moved aside to help her out of the limo. She felt his touch on her arm once again, and felt fingers of delight dart through her body.

“Alla prossima,signora.”

Until next time? There couldn’t possibly be a next time. In two days’ time she’d be in Switzerland with her friends. But the thought of seeing him again made Ginger’s pulse leap. Deep down she didn’t want to say goodbye to him.

Since Bruce had died, Ginger hadn’t paid attention to other men or encouraged them. She couldn’t. The thought of falling in love again only to lose that person in such a terrible way frightened her.

She’d told Zoe and Abby that she didn’t want to give her heart a second time to another man, only for it to end in tragedy. In fact Ginger had never expected to meet a man who could ever help her get over the pain of having to say goodbye to her beloved husband. Only a miracle could cause that to happen.