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He pointed to the ceiling. “I have an espresso maker in my apartment upstairs.”
Was that an invitation? If so, was she prepared to take him up on it? His next question put her in the exact position of having to make that decision.
“You’re welcome to come up there, of course,” Vito offered. “Or I’d be happy to bring a cup down here when it’s ready.”
He was leaving the ball completely in her court. So what was she going to do? She didn’t relish the idea of sitting down here in the darkened studio by herself. And she’d already spent an afternoon alone with him the previous day. Despite having just met him, Maya felt an unwavering sense that she could trust this man. Enough to be alone in his apartment with him.
“I’d love to help you make the espressos upstairs, Vito.”
She didn’t realize he’d been holding his breath until she watched the drop of his shoulders as he released it. What exactly did that mean? Probably nothing. There she went, trying to read into things again.
“Just one thing first?” she asked.
“What’s that?”
She tugged at the collar of her damp dress. “Do you have any more of those smocks I might be able to borrow?”
* * *
Vito watched as Maya sat in the middle of his small, cozy kitchen, sipping on her espresso as if the cup had been sent to her straight from heaven. Her curls had all completely escaped at this point; the elastic in her hair had either fallen out or it was lost somewhere in her tresses for all he knew. Her cheeks had gone from a rosy pink to a deeper, more reddish color. The smock he’d given her hung like a shapeless curtain over her frame.
Still, he found her to be achingly beautiful. How the woman managed to look so attractive after getting caught in a rainstorm and while wearing a painter’s smock was truly beyond him.
Whatever her appeal, it behooved him to ignore it. She’d be gone from Italy and out of his life in a few short days. Not that it would matter one iota if her stay here had been a permanent one. Vito wasn’t at a point in his life where he could entertain any type of attraction to a woman. Permanent or otherwise. He had to pull his life back together. He had too much baggage, too much to figure out about himself and how he’d let the woman he’d married down so tragically.
Not to mention, Maya was pulling together the pieces of her own broken heart. The last thing she needed complicating her reality right now was a short and meaningless fling.
Vito sucked in a breath at the direction his thoughts had suddenly taken. A fling shouldn’t have even crossed his mind. What was wrong with him? Was he desperate for female companionship?
He had to get a grip.
“I think the chill has finally left my skin. Thank you for letting me dry out, Vito. Once again. I’ll have quite a repayment to make if you ever find yourself in Boston.”
“If I’m ever there, I will take you up on that,” Vito replied, simply out of politeness. He had no desire or inclination to travel outside of Europe at this stage of his life. If only he’d been able to temper some of his wanderlust before Marina had grown so fed up with his absences. Both his physical and mental ones. He’d not only withdrawn from her physically, he’d done so emotionally, as well. His only excuse was that he’d needed solitude and distance in order to create his art.
He made himself push away the useless thoughts.
“So, what’s on the agenda for tomorrow?” he asked to try and change the subject before Maya could pursue any kind of questioning about the possibility of him going to the States.
She clasped her hands together in front of her chest. “It’s quite exciting. I’m to visit a glass blower’s shop. Followed by some shopping near the Rialto Bridge.”
“Sounds like quite a day. And how about the evening?”
The excitement immediately drained out of her. Her eyes suddenly darted to the ground while a frown creased her lips. She fought valiantly to replace it with a smile, but the effect only served to lend a tight, forced set to her mouth. “Oh. That’s to be another very exciting excursion.” Despite her words, her tone was flat and rather empty.
Vito lifted an eyebrow in question. He could guess the reason for her poor attempt to hide her disappointment. The evening no doubt held another romantic activity meant for two. “What’s the plan?”
