The Twelve Vitali Ch. 00

Authors note: Hello everyone. This story is a spinoff of the Twelve Tables series I wrote a while ago. While there will be cameo appearances of some of the Donati's, this series is based on and around a different family and table. I hope you enjoy this series despite its differences to the original story. ~ellie.

Prologue:

"Are you insane!" Jacobi said as he got out of his car. He was breathing heavily and shaking his head, looking at the tree in front of his car before turning his irate glare on the woman who had almost caused this accident. There was dust swirling around them which had been raised in response to her signal for help, which had made him almost drive his car into a tree.

"I'm sorry," she said quickly and approached him. "My name is Maryanne Donati, and I am in a dreadful hurry, but it seems I have run out of petrol. Can you help me, please?" She said in such a rapid string of words she breathed as heavily as him.

"Maryanne Donati?" Jacobi repeated her name, immediately making the connection to her family.

"You've heard of... Well, not me, but my family?" she asked, a frown furrowing her forehead. She looked at him more closely, taking in his handsome features. No, not handsome, she decided, it was more than just being handsome, he was rugged and interesting, she decided, and that was much better than merely being handsome. He looked to be around thirty, with broad shoulders, dark hair and the deep tan of a man who worked outdoors. She took in his dark eyes a moment after acknowledging that he had a great physique under the casual business shirt and pants. She realised he was studying her at the same time and he said her name again.

"Maryanne Donati," he seemed to nod his head as if finally accepting the name belonged to her. "Well, Miss Donati, let me be the first to tell you that dancing into the road on those high heels while lifting your skirt to expose your long legs can cause chaos!" he said in a reprimanding tone.

"You're right, no one has ever told me that before, but my skirt is back in place now, and there was no damage done," she grinned and smoothed her demure shin length denim skirt back into place. "I am sorry," she said contritely when his less than impressed gaze didn't waver. "I just couldn't think of any other way to make sure you stopped!"

Jacobi swore and looked around. It was a country road lined by large fallow fields. There was no sign of habitation or other traffic anywhere around them, and the summer sun was beating down, making it seem inhospitable.

"My car's diesel. I can't give you the petrol you need," he grouched. "Where were you heading?"

"Timboon. Are you? You're heading in the right direction at least." She asked. "Is there any chance I could get a lift with you?"

Jacobi looked her up and down again. She was stunning, her flowing dark hair held red gold highlight and she had unusually dark blue eyes that were almost violet. He imagined she was in her early twenties, and, aside from her face and lovely figure, she had sensational legs. There was an energy about her and an innate loveliness that he couldn't help but admire, even though she had almost caused him to collide with a big tree. Behind the loveliness, though, there was a conviction that she was no mere mortal, and, as such, begging a lift from a stranger held no danger for her. He grimaced, acknowledging that she was a Donati Princess, and, of course, she was a law unto herself. Just like the last Donati princess to spend time with his family, Nik.

"All right, but you can't just leave a car like that here," he looked at the sleek white sports car totally unsuited to life on country roads.

"No," she hesitated. "There is one more tiny thing, my phone died, and I can't charge it if the car doesn't start. Would you have a phone I could borrow?" She asked sweetly, making him shake his head again at the clueless woman who had almost killed him. "I'll pay for the call and the petrol to drive me to Timboon, naturally."

"You don't have to do that, naturally or otherwise," he grumbled, pulling his phone out.

"I insist," she gave an imperious little toss of her head as she took the phone from his hand.

He listened to a one-sided conversation between Maryanne and her Aunt, including a detailed description of his car, including registration. She sheepishly handed his phone back.

"Sorry about that, but she is a worrier," Maryanne explained. "Plus, she explained why I ran out of petrol. She used the car yesterday and forgot to refill it. I was in such a rush I didn't even check it," she smiled. "So I don't have to feel completely stupid."

"Why are you in such a rush?" he enquired, moving toward his car again, sensing that she had an equally airy reason, like being late to get her hair done or some such appointment that shouldn't require this amount of drama.

"Can I tell you as we drive?" she asked, following him to the car. He opened her door for her as he gestured to get in with a nod.

"I was here visiting my aunt and uncle and catching up with a friend from school. My friend was due to have her baby in two weeks but went into labour this morning. Her mother is still up in Queensland, and her husband was out at the mines and is on his way back but won't make it in time, and she called me. I'm all she's got, and I have messed it up terribly," she said sadly. "She has no one else, and this is her first baby."

"I see," he said blandly, but pushed the accelerator a little deeper hearing the emotion in her voice.

"I am truly grateful, even if I had have used your phone and waited for my Uncle to come, I could have lost hours, their home is half an hour in the other direction," she chatted as they drove. "May I ask the name of my rescuer?"

"Cobi," he answered with the single word of his preferred shortening of his name.

"Well, Cobi, may I borrow your phone again, please? I'd like to call the hospital and see how things are going. I am hoping I haven't missed the whole thing; she sounded so lost and scared when she called me." She took the phone he offered and thanked him again before speaking to a nurse in the maternity wing.

"Oh no, I think I am going to miss it entirely," her whole body sagged in defeat.

"Hang on," Jacobi said, and sped up to get her there. Maryanne did hang on, her knuckles turning almost white as her fingers curled around the edge of the seat.

"Thanks so much," she said gratefully when they pulled up in front of the rural hospital. "I thought only my brothers' drove that fast! Well, them and race car drivers." She opened her door. "I..."

"Just go," he gestured toward the building.

"Wait here; I'll get the news and come back. You deserve to know that everything is alright. Besides, I owe you some money!" Maryanne gushed and flung herself out of the car and raced up the stairs to the hospital.

Jacobi hesitated a few moments, then put his car in gear intending to leave when Maryanne called out his name and danced back down the stairs.

"Almost nine pounds, about five minutes ago. Mother and son are doing well," she reported. "I can't thank you enough. However, here's the thing, I can't pay you back because I've left my wallet at home and my phone in the car."

"I never expected you to pay for a couple of phone calls, Miss Donati. Don't give it another thought," Jacobi said easily, eager to be away from this woman who made him feel every hormone in his body reacting to her proximity. He stopped again and looked at her properly. "So, you have nothing?" he asked. "No credit cards, not anything?"

"Nothing," she spread her hands wide. "It will be fine when my Uncle comes," she reassured him. Jacobi reached into his pocket and pulled out a hundred dollars and placed it in her hand.

"Get your friends some flowers," he said gruffly and prepared to leave.

"Thank you, but at least give me your address or phone number so I can send you the money," she said, seeming to search her pockets for pen and paper. Jacobi opened his mouth to tell her to forget it, it wasn't like he needed her to pay him back, but changed his mind.

"Have dinner with me," he said. "Only if you want to," he named a restaurant and a time in a nearby town, remembering Maryanne had said her Uncle's home was in the opposite direction of the way they had driven. He looked into her surprised violet eyes, let the corners of his mouth tilt up a little and put the car in gear. She stepped back as he slightly revved the engine signalling his intention to leave, and he drove off leaving her speechless on the footpath in front of the hospital.

*****

Jacobi sat at a table for two at the only upmarket restaurant in the small hilltop town overlooking the tempestuous Great Southern Ocean. He was early, but he didn't mind. He had been unable to remove the vivacious Maryanne from his mind all afternoon, despite the fact that she was a spoilt Donati princess. He'd met her sister a few times at his parents' home in Melbourne. Nik Donati was the epitome of a spoilt and selfish princess, and she'd broken his older brother's heart. Beautiful on the outside, most definitely, on the inside though, Jacobi shuddered thinking about it and the number Nik had done on his brother.

His brother had fallen for her badly. Admittedly she was all sweetness and light around him, but he had seen the other side of her personality on more than one occasion. The way she treated everyone as her personal staff, and cruelly mistreated and taunted one of his sisters, who wasn't born to be tall and beautiful like the Donati Princesses. He had been glad when she left and that she had refused any of his brother's overtures of love and his proposal, despite his broken heart. 'Time heals all wounds.' he thought sadly.

Maryanne, however, seemed different in subtle ways. While she did seem to have the same imperious belief that she could do as she liked without any regard for the consequences, she had also been grateful for his help, or appeared to be grateful. Something he had never seen in the arrogant and entitled Nik. He wondered about her place in the Donati clan and had done some investigating on his own when he couldn't focus on his work, as she clouded his mind. He thought to find a profile of a party girl much like Nik, but what he found instead was not what he had been expecting. There was more to this woman than met the eye, and he contemplated his beer as his mind wandered over her looks, her body and those sensational legs.

"Penny for them?" Maryanne asked, interrupting his thoughts. He looked up guiltily and cleared his throat as if he had been caught out doing something he shouldn't have been. He discreetly checked his watch and noted that she was ten minutes early. She pulled out her chair to sit opposite him as he came to his feet automatically. Years of breeding made him nothing, if not well-mannered. She had changed into an evening dress of a violet blue that matched her eyes. It was short enough to highlight those legs that had been walking through his mind all afternoon, but not short enough to appear uncouth in a restaurant like this.

This woman was a more sophisticated version of the woman he had met that morning. Her single strand of pearls and matching earrings told of an elegance and need to be taken seriously. She slid into her chair and looked at the water beaded bottle of champagne that sat in an ice bucket to the side of the table.

Champagne?" he offered, understanding the look she had given him and the bottle.

"Yes, please," she agreed with a small nod. "How nice of you. It's also nice to sit down. Today has definitely been one of my wackier days," she admitted.

"Wacky?" he enquired, tilting his head and pouring her a glass of champagne. "First, though, how are mother and son?"

"They're doing well, despite his early arrival and my late arrival. Totally not your fault, that was all me," Maryanne pulled a face. "Speaking of the wacky things that happened today," she reached into her purse and pulled out a crisp hundred-dollar note. She placed it flat on the table and slid it across to him. "Thank you again, for everything you did for me."

"I take it you got your wallet back?" he said lightly, letting the note stay on the table where she had left it before pulling her hand away.

"Yes, car, wallet, phone, all returned to their rightful working condition. Which was just as well or I wouldn't have made it here tonight," she laughed lightly. "And I did want to come and thank you properly." She took a sip of her champagne. "Mm, delicious," she smiled.

"There's no need to thank me. I would hardly leave a woman stranded on the side of the road. You should be more careful though, not everyone is as nice as me," he warned her. Jacobi couldn't help but like the lively young woman and found himself genuinely enjoying her company during the first few minutes of their conversation.

Maryanne frowned at him. She knew the dangers of flagging down a random motorist, but what choice had she had when her phone died. He was nice though, and handsome. She took in the fact that he had changed too. He was in dark jeans and a polo shirt open at the throat and topped off with a formal jacket. The only jewellery he wore was a watch that she knew was worth a small fortune. He looked right at home in this expensive restaurant, not to mention darkly attractive.

"So what do you do, Jacobi?" she asked considering him carefully.

"This and that," he shrugged.

"That sounds evasive," she said thoughtfully. She lifted a slender finger to trace the rim on her champagne flute. Her senses were being overwhelmed by the pure masculinity of the man.

"It's also true," he answered easily. "My first love is horses. I own a stud and also have a hand in training thoroughbreds. In addition to that, I also help out my family's business. I'm in risk management, I suppose, I can make things happen that might have otherwise been stalled." It was hard to explain what he did precisely. He had a knack for seeing problems and offering solutions that worked when businesses were floundering or in need of a change of direction. His skills were known beyond his family, and he was constantly overrun with job offers.

"I think I understand," Maryanne nodded and saw him raise his eyebrow at her. "We have a go-to-guy in our family too."

"What about you?" He asked curiously.

"I am working with my cousin in her art gallery," she said easily. "I originally travelled to Melbourne with her to check out a new artist, then took a few weeks to visit my Aunt and Uncle down here and see my friend."

"Your cousin doesn't mind you ditching work for a few weeks?" he asked, seeing a flaw in her persona and getting ready to condemn her as being as selfish and spoilt.

"She insisted," Maryanne grinned. "My Aunt is one of the artists we showcase, and she is nearing the completion of her latest collection. I am inventorying them and designing a layout for our space. I know it doesn't sound like a big job, but there's a lot that goes into it." Maryanne continued to talk about this latest collection and her love of the coastal themes and colours created by the artist, her Aunt. Jacobi had to admit he was quietly impressed by her depth of knowledge as they continued to chat at the art world, as Maryanne knew it, over their first course.

"You're surprised, aren't you?" Maryanne asked suddenly in the middle of a conversation as if his question had only just registered in her brain. "I'm starting to get the feeling you don't approve of me, Mr... um... Cobi," she frowned at him and took a sip of her champagne. "It's become quite a strong feeling tonight," she challenged him with the flash of her violet eyes.

"Well, you did almost get me killed earlier today," he chuckled, trying to diffuse the tension that emanated from her.

"Which I have apologised for over and over again. I have explained that I have had a wacky sort of day. I am not usually that unorganised," Maryanne defended herself.

Cobi attempted to stifle a smile and shrugged at her, not knowing what to say.

"Very eloquent. You couldn't possibly have said that you didn't believe me any better with your words," Maryanne placed her elbows on the table and rested her chin on her hands.

"I..." Cobi tried to fix the situation with his usual charm and schmoozing, but she cut him off.

"It's okay," she added quickly. "I don't mind. We're a bit like ships passing in the night, aren't we? It's not like our paths are bound to cross again, are they?" Maryanne said lightly. She'd made a bad impression this morning, and she didn't blame him for thinking her a silly air-head. It was disappointing, but she didn't blame him. Her mother kept telling her that first impressions were everything, and it seemed, in this case, it was true.

Had she read his mind? He wondered. He once again became aware of how attractive she was and found he didn't want to be just ships that passed in the night. He wasn't sure he could ignore the way she made him feel. He knew he hadn't been able to today. Their gazes clashed as he decided he wanted this girl in his life and his bed. He wanted to know if she was a Donati princess all the way to her fingertips when she was hot and bothered and writhing beneath him.

The waiter arrived and the moment was lost as they ate. They talked about mundane things like the scenery and weather in this part of the wild, rugged southern coastline. It didn't matter what Maryanne was talking about, Jacobi found himself becoming more enthralled with her as the dinner wore on.

"Do you ride?" Cobi asked as he walked her out of the restaurant to stand on the front patio to wait for her ride home.

"Of course," Maryanne said without hesitation.

"Of course," he queried with an amused tone.

Maryanne looked up at him, hearing the tone. She wasn't short at five foot eight with her heels, and she still looked up. He must be well over six foot, she considered, and she felt a little quiver run through her, because not only was he tall but he was perfectly proportioned.

"Have I said something wrong?" she asked in response to his tone.

"No, I suppose not," he took her hand as they walked toward the waiting car. He was grateful she had insisted on calling her Uncle to pick her up, he wouldn't have liked her to have driven after so much champagne, and he didn't trust himself with her alone in his car.

"You may as well tell me," she sighed. Jacobi stopped walking and turned her to face him. His eyes raked up and down her figure, stopping finally on her long legs, giving her another quiver of arousal.

"It's just that I get the impression you do everything well," he shrugged finally. "Ride, swim, run, play the piano, paint or draw, speak fluent something or other, and..." he stopped as Maryanne held up her hand.

"You still think I'm an idle rich brat, even though I've told you all about my work," she said, not hiding her disappointment from him this time.

"Not idle," he admitted, rubbing his jaw subconsciously, he felt like she had slapped him with the disappointment in her words. "You have the self-assuredness that leads me to believe you went to the best schools and possibly a finishing school. Do you do any of those things I mentioned?"

"I..." Maryanne opened her mouth to defend herself but sighed resignedly. He was right about her education. "I do swim, but not surf. I ride horses and motorbikes. I don't play an instrument, but I sing, sometimes, usually at family holidays and things. I play tennis and touch football. I speak fluent Italian, but I do not paint or draw. Mind you, I have a pretty good eye for art, hence my job. Satisfied?" She asked more abruptly than she planned, feeling like he was judging her. "You asked about riding, and I said of course, because I can't imagine my life without horses in it."