La Vita Dolce Ch. 10

"Merda!" Gianni cursed and slammed his fist into the wall and relished the feel pain shooting up his arm. It was a welcomed distraction. She'd seen him and had come running towards him, her blonde surfer staring after her. He hadn't thought she would recognize him at that distance or even bother to look in his direction.

But since when had Natasha done anything he expected her to do? He'd have to switch cars. He'd have to be more careful.

He sank heavily into an armchair. He rubbed at his cheek and the stubble growing there. He'd been too distracted to shave lately and his hair was growing long and falling about his collar and into his eyes. He sipped scotch.

His father was dead, his brother gone into hiding. Renoldo Pezzini was wrathful at the apparent murder of his niece. His retaliation had been swift and brutal. Gianni truly mourned the loss of his father. As much as for revenge as for the sake of appearances. Pezzini couldn't simply let the supposed death of his niece go unpunished. Such would look suspicious. It would be necessary to make sure that everyone thought his niece was dead. Gianni's father had been taken in a car bomb along with three of his men. Luca narrowly escaped an ambush which eerily mimicked that which had nearly killed Natasha.

Gianni felt immeasurable sorrow at the loss of his father. But to retaliate against Renoldo Pezzini would mean a certain bloody death for himself if he failed in that attempt. He would have welcomed death with open arms had it not been for the small inkling of hope that Natasha still lived. That, and to succeed in killing Renoldo Pezzini would mean depriving Natasha of her only living relative and perhaps her last vestige of protection.

Gianni thought on Natasha and took another gulp of scotch. The walking American stereotype looked like he was perfectly willing to protect her. He wondered if she would allow it. Gianni was, self admittedly, intensely jealous. And Natasha? Had she sent him the note? And if she hadn't? Perhaps she had simply been content to allow him to think her dead. He couldn't blame her.

He absently poured himself another glass.

The shrill ringing of his cell phone jarred him out of his thoughts. "Angiolini," he answered.

"Brother, dearest." The voice that streaked over the phone lines caused him to stiffen in his seat.

"Luca," he growled. "What do you want?"

"What? Not happy to talk to me, Gianni.?" Luca sighed dramatically. "I was just enjoying the California sun. I thought perhaps we could enjoy it together."

Gianni sat forward in his seat. "Luca." His voice was dangerously low.

Luca laughed. "Did you truly think I wouldn't have you watched, brother? Did you think I wouldn't have you followed?"

Gianni was silent.

"Imagine my surprise when my dearest older brother took a trip to California. And I thought to myself 'now why would he do that'? What could possibly be of interest in California? And then I remembered that our little heiress lived in California for most of her life. All I had to do was follow you right to her. You should have been more careful."

Gianni felt dread welling in the pit of his stomach and his grip on the phone tightened. "Leave her alone, Luca," he growled.

Luca snorted. "Have you forgotten that our father was killed because of her? I'm merely restoring the balance, brother. That bitch is going to die and you're going to watch."

"Luca—"

"Ciao, Gianni." The line went dead.

Gianni stared at the phone in dismay. "Shit," he grabbed his jacket and strode from the hotel room.

***

They were at Colin's gym. It had been two weeks since Natasha had decided needed to blow off some steam on the treadmill and Colin had offered to accompany her. However, when they'd arrived, Natasha had spied the punching bag and decided that it offered a more satisfying release.

"Jesus, kid, take it easy," Colin warned as he watched Natasha attack the punching bag with in a flurry of jabs. He held the bag relatively still as she rained blows upon the surface.

She scowled and launched a kick which struck the bag and nearly knocked him off his feet.

"Something wrong?" he ventured.

Natasha rolled her neck and shrugged her shoulders as she shook out the tense muscles in her arms. She was sweaty and dark wisps of hair clung to her cheeks. "Nope," she said lightly, "nothing's wrong." As she unleashed another set of hard jabs at the bag.

He held the bag steady and peered at her. "Sure, there's not someone's face in particular you're picturing because you're beating the hell out of this bag. I think it's about to start crying for help."

Natasha stopped, arms hanging limply at her sides as she bounced on the balls of her feet. "Look, Cols. I just spent the last month being chased, shot at, and manhandled. Pardon me if I have a little pent up aggression."

She struck out suddenly, and aimed a kick high on the bag. Taken off guard, Colin was sent sprawling to the ground.

Natasha blinked at him as he stared up at her in shock. Natasha burst out laughing at the startled look on his face. "I'm so-s-s-sorry, Colin," she managed between bursts of laughter as she bent over and held her stomach. Colin glared up at her. She offered him her hand to help him up in appeasement, still unable to stop her laughter.

A grin spread over his face as his large hand enveloped hers and hauled her down to sprawl on the mat next to him. He quickly rolled over her to straddle her pin her against the mat.

She smirked, a mischievous glint lighting her eyes as she looked up at him. "Oh, it's like that, is it?"

He laughed and gazed down at her. "Yeah, it's like that," he taunted. "You gonna do something about it?" he challenged.

Natasha shifted and threw him off, but he did not release her, taking her with him as they rolled across the mat. Colin pinned her once again beneath him. "Give up?"

Natasha glared at him. "Colin, if I remember correctly, you outweigh me by about a hundred pounds. I don't stand a chance." She shrugged from her position beneath him. "Maybe I could take you in the ring though."

He shook his head in disbelief at her bravado as he moved to collapse at her side and propped himself up on one elbow to gaze at her. Natasha flushed slightly at the intent way in which he was looking at her.

She moved to sit up when he looped an arm around her waist and pulled her back down and closer to his body. She stared into his face, which was solemn after being so mirthful only moments before.

"Cols?" she ventured, made nervous by his silence.

He smoothed her hair back from her face and taking her chin in his hand he lowered his lips to cover her own. He kissed her softly, gently, merely brushing his lips over her own.

Natasha stared up at him when he pulled back.

A small lazy smile tilted his lips as his eyes searched her face, taking in the bewilderment in her gaze. His clear blue eyes met hers. "I've missed you, Tash," he murmured.

Her own voice was breathy, "I've missed you too, Cols." Emotion flickered in her gaze and he felt her stiffen slightly.

He pulled back slightly and loosened his hold on her.

"Colin..." she said softly, "I can't. You—I—"

His arms fell away from her. "Right," he muttered. "This guy? This Angiolini? Where is he?"

Natasha felt her throat constrict. "I don't know." Her voice was quiet.

His fingertips brushed her chin and tilted her face to his. "I'm here, Tash," he sighed, emotion filling his voice. "I've always been right here for you."

Natasha felt tears pricking her eyes. "I'm sorry Colin, I can't." She swallowed thickly. "You've been so good to me and amazing and I..."her voice trailed off, tears sliding freely down her face at the thought that she might cause him pain. "I don't deserve you."

Colin gently brushed the tears from her cheeks. "No, baby," he said quietly. "That's the thing. You deserve so much better. I'm just trying to fool myself into thinking that I could be that for you and give you everything you deserve."

She gazed at him with wide teary eyes.

He bent his head and kissed her lightly upon the lips once more.

They merely stared at each other a moment before she cleared her throat nervously and averted her gaze. "Then there's Morgan," she ventured.

Colin groaned, nodded and pulled away from her and sat up. "Right, Morgan..." he mused softly.

Natasha leapt up to her feet, straightening her clothes from their recent wrestling match and wiping her hands over her face. "Forget it," she said lightly. "Let's get out of here."

Colin nodded absently as he stood. They left the gym and headed home, neither speaking on the car ride back to the beach house.

***

Natasha lay on her bed staring up at the ceiling. "Lacey, I don't know about this," she protested as Lacey tossed outfits from the closet onto the bed. Colin had gone and brought all of Natasha's clothes from the loft. He and Lacey were attempting to make her stay a more permanent arrangement with an indefinite time table. Natasha agreed to think about it.

But now, Lacey was tearing through Natasha's closet. "Oh, my God!" Lacey exclaimed as she held up the gold mesh Prada dress. "This dress is fantastic! And I haven't seen it? When did you get this?"

Natasha sat up on the bed. "Not that one, Lace."

"But it's perfect!" Lacey held up the dress.

Natasha stood, and taking the dress from Lacey, she balled it up and tossed it in the back corner of the closet. "Any dress but that one."

Laceys's expression turned sympathetic and her voice held a serious tone that was rare in her disposition. "Oh, bad Italian hottie memories..."

Natasha couldn't help the laughter that bubbled up at her best friend's way of looking at things. Lacey might pretend to be a ditz but she knew how to make her friends laugh and distract them from their troubles.

Lacey nudged her in the ribs. "You said any dress but that one. So does that mean you're coming?"

Natasha groaned and slumped her shoulders.

Lacey smirked. "I'm taking that as a yes. Besides, you're going to meet some amazing guy to completely wipe Mr. Machismo from your memory."

Natasha seriously doubted it.

Colin leaned against the doorframe. "It looks like a hurricane ripped through here."

Natasha flopped down on the bed and turned her face to him. "Nope, just Lacey."

Lacey's head popped out of the closet to grin at her brother. "Hey, Cols, wanna come tonight?"

Colin crossed his arms. "Where?"

"Las Palmas," came Lacey's muffled reply as she ducked back into the closet.

Colin glanced at Natasha. "You going?"

Natasha didn't have time to answer before Lacey shouted from the closet, "Yes!"

Natasha groaned and pulled a pillow over her face.

"So you coming or what, Colin?" Lacey shouted.

She heard Colin hesitate before grudgingly shout, "Yeah, whatever!"

Natasha lifted the pillow to peer at him. "You're going along with this?"

He shrugged.

Natasha groaned again and lowered the pillow back over her face to muffle a scream.

***

"Jesus, Tash," Colin said. He looked at her and raked a hand through his hair.

Natasha stood awkwardly in the kitchen. Colin stared at her. She self-consciously tugged at the hemline of her dress. "Lacey picked it out. She tried so hard I didn't want to hurt her feelings."

Colin shook his head. Despite the sex-kitten ensemble, she looked heartbreakingly uncomfortable and vulnerable.

Lacey strode into the kitchen on spiked heels looking like playboy Barbie on acid. She glanced from Colin's struck and stricken expression to Natasha and grinned. "She looks hot, right?" She admired her handiwork.

Colin coughed and bit back a smile. "Yeah, great Lacey," he said as seriously as he could muster. Natasha glared at him.

In truth, Colin thought Natasha looked amazing. And he knew every guy there would think the same. She wore a black tube dress that barely reached mid-thigh. It looked as though any sudden movement might send her generous amount of cleavage to overflowing the top of the dress. Her brown legs seemed to stretch on forever in the tall stilettos. Her long dark hair fell in sensuous waves down her back. But it wasn't just her body. Her face was flawless. Every feature complimented the other and he thought each was perfect.

He'd always thought blondes were the hottest, but Christ, she always made him rethink that assertion. Her hair was thick and black with no hint of red. Her startling azure eyes were sinfully long lashed, her lips full and plush. Her skin had grown deeply bronzed by the California sun.

Colin blinked and ripped his eyes away from her. He picked his keys up from the counter. "Ready to go?"

Both girls nodded and they left the house and piled into the Range Rover.

The club was packed, a line of hopefuls curling around the side of the building. Colin pulled the Range Rover directly up to the front door. He hopped out, tossing the keys to the valet as the accompanying valets handed the women out of the car. Colin and Lacey strode right to the door man who stepped aside. Natasha followed.

The tall muscled and heavily tattooed Samoan who guarded the door moved quickly to block her way. He crossed his arms over his chest and looked down his nose at her.

Colin and Lacey hesitated in the door way.

Natasha looked up at the man, a small uncertain smile upon her lips. "Hi, Loki."

He didn't return the smile. "Miss James," he nodded solemnly. Suddenly his face broke into a wide grin.

"Welcome back!" he swooped her up in a giant hug. Her feet her dangling over the pavement.

"Thanks!" she wheezed as the large man squeezed her tightly in a hug.

He set her back upon her feet and stepped aside, returning to his previous Bouncer demeanor. "Have a nice night, Miss James."

Natasha smiled gratefully and followed Colin and Lacey into the darkened interior.

The club was packed but Colin had little trouble grabbing a cocktail waitress's attention as he flashed her killer smile.

Lacey was almost immediately all over the place and greeting everyone she knew, which was pretty much everyone. Natasha hung back with Colin and casually sipped her third gin and tonic as she perused the crowd. She felt Colin's arm slip around her waist and he pulled her against his side. "C'mon Tash," he coaxed "At least look like you're having fun."

She leaned into him. "I'm not sure this is really my scene anymore, Colin."

Colin chuckled. "Never was my scene. I only came because you did." He took her hand and nodded towards the dance floor. "Let's go dance and make everyone jealous of the good time we're having."

Natasha threw back the drink reluctantly followed and allowed Colin to pull her against him to move to the beat. Natasha could feel the beat pulsing through her chest. She grinned mischievously before pressed herself closer against Colin and running her hands down the hard muscles at his sides.

"Tease," Colin growled.

Natasha merely grinned as he took her hand and spun her so that her back was pressed against him. His hands slid to her hips and he bent his head to press a kiss just below her ear. She groaned and lifted her arm to loop around his neck and pull him closer.

The scent of her accosted his senses. The feel of her body against his brought an exquisite ache to his loins that he struggled to fight. But, he didn't want to fight it. He knew heights to which her beautiful body could bring him. He knew the glorious feeling of having her sheath him tightly, claw at his back and scream his name. He wanted it again.

Natasha's eyes drifted closed as she moved sinuously against Colin, knowing full well the affect she was having on him. But he was affecting her too. A slow sweet burn had started in her belly and was slowly spreading. Her breasts ached, pressing against the top of her dress. His lips brushed her shoulder and she felt her channel spasm slightly. She pressed harder against his hips and felt the hardness of his manhood between her nether cheeks.

"Tash..." he warned in a slightly pained voice.

Her eyes drifted open and she froze as she recognized a face in the crowd staring right back at her. The handsome features were unmistakable. But it was the longish dark hair falling about his collar and the shadow on his cheeks which made her heart nearly drop to her stomach. The look on his face was hard as he stared at her. Luca. He had haunted her nightmares, and now he was here right in front of her where she thought she was safe. Her knees buckled slightly and she felt Colin's arm tighten around her waist to take her weight against him.

"Natasha?" he ventured.

She blinked hard. He was gone. Her gaze searched the crowd valiantly but she saw not the slightest hint of him. She lifted a trembling hand to her brow. Her eyes and her mind had been playing tricks on her and now she was seeing things in the erratic lighting of the dance floor. She turned unsteadily in Colin's arms. The alcohol was beginning to hit her hard.

Colin's arousal died a swift death at the stricken look on Natasha's face. He cupped her chin in one hand and lifted her gaze to his as his eyes searched her face. "Baby, what's wrong?"

Natasha shook her head. "It's nothing...I thought I saw someone."

Colin's eyes searched the crowd above her head. "You're seeing him again aren't you?"

Natasha shook her head again. "No. Someone else." She needed air suddenly. She felt like she was coming unhinged and the air in the room grew stiffling. She pulled out of Colin's arms. "I'll be right back."

Colin reached for her. "Not without me, you're not."

She gently shrugged off his hand. "I'm fine, babe. Really." She forced a weak smile to her face and ducked into the crowd before he could reach for her again.

She would her way through the press of people towards the restrooms and lounges. She trailed her hand along the wall to steady herself as she made her way down the dimly lit hallway. The pounding music was making her head ache dully.

A drunken girl who looked too young to be there tottered past on impossibly high heels and peered at Natasha. "Cute dress," she slurred.

"Thanks." Natasha smiled slightly and turned to watch her teeter down the hallway.

She didn't think much of it when she heard the door open behind her. Nor did she have much time to react as she felt an arm slip around her waist and lift her bodily off her feet. She let out a startled scream that was quickly muffled by a hand covering her mouth. She was engulfed by darkness as she was hauled into a darkened room and the door was kicked shut behind her.

Luca. Natasha waited for the mind numbing fear to crash over her but it never came. She felt no tiny twinge of fear as she was held against a tall hard unyielding male body. Instead she felt cold fury overtake her. There was no way she was letting Luca Angiolini think he could simply appear in her life and threaten her. He'd tried to kill her once and he wasn't going to have that opportunity again.

She bit the hand that covered her mouth as she jammed her elbow back into his rips, at the same time slamming her spiked heel into his instep. She felt grim satisfaction as she heard him utter a low cry of pain and his grip on her slackened. She wrenched out of his grip and spun to face him in the darkness. She could sense his movements as she threw a hard right hook which she felt connect satisfyingly with his lean jaw. He stumbled and she took advantage as she pivoted precariously on her heel and launched a kick at him. It was high and caught his shoulder.

She heard his growled curse and clamor of his body hitting something as he tried to regain his balance.

Natasha spun, seeing the lit outline of the door and grabbed the handle. She wrenched the door open and was about to burst into the hallway when, damn him, his arms came around her and hauled her back inside. He held her tightly, trapping her arms at her sides and holding her off the ground as her legs kicked at the air. She screamed. "Let me go, you bastard!" But the music was too loud. No one would hear her.