The Villa

All that was left was reaction.
    Her mouth was hot, and soft and very skilled. It fed ravenously on his. Her body was lush and smooth and very female. It pressed intimately against his.
    His mind blanked. He could admit that later—just snapped from on to off like a switch, giving him no shield against the panther leap of arousal. She tasted like she smelled; he learned that much.
    Dark and dangerous and female.
    He'd jerked her closer before he could stop himself, responded to the sharp nip of her teeth even as his system went to fast overload.
    One minute she was wrapped around him like some exotic, strangling vine, and the next he was cut loose with every ounce of blood drained from his head.
    "Deal with it." She ran a finger lightly over her own bottom lip, then turned to shove the doors open again.
    "Just a damn minute." He had her arm, spun her around. He wasn't sure what he planned to do, but he didn't plan for it to be pleasant.
    Then he saw the utter shock on her face. Before he could react she was shoving him aside, racing across the room to the refectory table.
    " Dio! Madonna , who would do such a thing?"
    He saw it then, the three Giambelli angels. Red ran down the carved faces like blood from slash wounds. Written across the chest of each, in that same violent hue, were vicious messages.
    BITCH #1
    BITCH #2
    BITCH #3
    "Sit down, Sophie. I'll get them out before your mother or grandmother sees them. Take them home, clean them up."
    "No, I'll do it. I think it's nail polish. A nasty girl trick." she said quietly. Temper would do no good, she thought as she gathered the three figures. And she couldn't find her anger under the sadness. "Rene, I suppose. Or Kris. They both hate the Giambelli women at the moment."
    "Let me take care of it for you." He laid his hands on her shoulders. "Whoever did it knew it would hurt you. I can get them cleaned up and put back before anyone notices."
    She wanted to push the angels into his big, strong hands, and herself along with them. Because she did, she stepped away from him. "I take care of my own, and you're in a hurry to go home."
    "Sophie."
    His tone was so patient, so kind, she sighed. "I need to do it myself. And I need to be angry with you a little while longer. So go away."
    He let her go, but once he was outside, he turned and climbed the stone steps to the ballroom. He'd hang around awhile, he decided. Just to be sure the only thing anyone hurt that night were wooden angels.
     
    In her room, Sophia carefully cleaned off the figures. It was, as she suspected, smears of bold red nail polish. A petty vandalism, and an ugly one, but not permanent.
    You can't destroy the Giambellis so easily, she thought. We're tougher than that. Tough enough, she thought, for her to ignore the nastiness of the act and leave the perpetrator of it disappointed.
    She took them back downstairs, replaced them and found that single act steadied her again.
    Easier, she realized, than steadying herself against what had passed between her and Tyler.
    Moron, she thought, wandering to an antique mirror to add a fresh dusting of powder to her nose. The moron could certainly kiss when he put some effort into it, but that didn't make him less of a moron. She hoped he suffered. She hoped he spent a long, sweaty, uncomfortable night. If he looked haggard and miserable the next day, she might, just might let him off the hook.
    Then again.
    She watched herself in the mirror as she traced a finger over her lips.
    Dropped her hand quickly to retrieve her lipstick when the doors opened.
    "Sophia."
    "Nonna." She glanced toward the three angels. All was as it should be. "Just doing some repairs. I'll be right back up."
    Tereza closed the doors behind her. "I saw you go out after Tyler."
    "Mmm." Keeping it at that, Sophia carefully painted her lips.
    "Do you think, because I'm old, I don't recognize the look in your eye?"
    "What look is that, Nonna ?"
    "Hot blood."
    Sophia gave a little shrug, recapped her lipstick. "We had an argument."
    "An argument didn't require you to replace your lipstick."
    Laughing now, Sophia turned. "What sharp eyes you have, Grandma. We did have an argument, and I solved it my way. It's both legal and moral for me to kiss Ty, Nonna. We're not blood kin."
    "I love you, Sophia. And I love Tyler."
    Sophia softened. The words came rarely from Tereza. "I know."
    "I didn't put the two of you together so you would hurt each other."
    "Why did you put us together?"
    "For the good of