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"I really don't want to talk to my mom, Nick."
"I get that.I do."
"Do you?Because I could suggest we talk to your parents, too.Your father might know more about Tomas and your grandfather than you do.In fact, where are your parents right now?"
He didn't like that she had turned the tables on him."I don't know where they are this second, but they're supposed to be in Milan in a few days, so if I'm still in Italy when they arrive, and we still have questions, we can talk to them, but they weren't artists.They had nothing to do with the art world.Sylvie did.Would it really hurt to have a conversation with her?You don't have to see her.You can speak to her on the phone."
She stared back at him for a long moment."If I decide to talk to her, it won't be on the phone.And I won't do it alone.She's a sucker for an attractive man.She'd probably tell you more than she'd tell me."
"Whatever I can do to help."
"Let's see what we find out tomorrow at the party.Then I'll consider whether we need to go to Firenze and talk to my mother."She picked up her glass and finished her wine."I am going to need another drink.And you're paying."
ChapterEighteen
Sunday morning, Isabella woke up with a headache that had more to do with the prospect of seeing her mother at some point than with the two glasses of wine she'd consumed.She'd also spent a restless night trying to sleep.Every creak of the old house had set her nerves on edge, and when she wasn’t thinking about someone breaking in, she was thinking about Nick, about how he'd kissed her earlier, and how he'd called her beautiful with a look in his eyes that had made her stomach do a somersault.
Despite her resolve, she was starting to like him too much.He wasn't just attractive and kissed really well; he was also smart and quick.She enjoyed a man who could keep up with her.Maybe even stay ahead of her.That made her want to try harder, be smarter, do more.She didn't know if that was just her competitive streak kicking in, or because she just wanted to change his opinion of her.Either way, he was taking up way too much space in her head, and she needed to concentrate on figuring out what happened to the paintings and how her family might have been involved in the dark side of the art world.
She still couldn't wrap her head around the idea that her great-grandmother might have been a forger.But Sam had sounded very sure of himself, and she couldn't see a motivation for him to lie.Although, that didn't mean he didn't have one.As Nick had said, Sam was a thief, and she needed to keep that in mind.Right now, she was just going to let his accusations be.The truth would eventually reveal itself—hopefully.But it seemed like the truth had been buried for a very long time, and it might take a lot of effort to uncover it.
She was up to the challenge.She just needed to get up and get going.Rolling out of bed, she headed into the bathroom and took a long, hot shower.A half hour later, she felt more energized and ready to face the day.
When she got downstairs, Nick was at the stove again.Today he was making pancakes with fresh blueberries and a dollop of whipped cream, which made her shake her head in bemusement.
Was there anything sexier than a barefoot man standing at a stove cooking breakfast?His hair was wavy and tousled, his face showing a shadow of beard, and his faded jeans and T-shirt hugged his body in all the right ways, making her yearn to see what was under those clothes.She'd thought she was all about a man in a suit, someone powerful and sophisticated, but this look worked.Her mouth was watering, and it wasn't really for pancakes, but she couldn't let him see that.
"Just in time," he said as he handed her a plate.
"This looks like dessert."She turned her gaze on the pancakes instead of his sexy grin.
"Are you turning down my special pancakes?"
"Not a chance," she said, taking her plate to the table.
She hadn't been quite sure how this morning would go.Things had gotten a little weird last night when they'd returned from the bar, the sexual tension between them going up a notch once they were back in the quiet house.But true to his word, Nick hadn't tried to kiss her again, and she'd managed not to ask him to.
Nick brought his plate to the table and also a mug of coffee for her.
He really was a considerate person."Thanks," she said.
He gave her an expectant look as she took her first bite."Well?Is it too sweet?"
She shook her head."It's perfect," she mumbled, her mouth full.
"My grandmother used to make pancakes for me when I was feeling down."
"You don't seem like a person who feels down a lot," she said as she swallowed and dove back in for another bite.
"I have my moments.Not as much now as when I was a kid.Back then, I had no control over where I had to be, and it drove me crazy."
"You said your parents are going to be in Milan in a few days.Are they performing there?"
"I think so, but they're also renewing their vows."
His statement surprised her."Really?That's nice.Are you going?"
"No.And I don't think it's nice; I believe it's a show, a gimmick."
