That Time in Venice (Love Unexpected Book 6) Page 4

  “Reed…”

  “Are you seeing anyone?”

  Anika clenched her fingers around the pen. “What are you doing? We agreed that what happened between us would remain there and now you want to ask me questions that are none of your business.” She took a deep breath. “I don’t even understand what happened. You cut me off. You didn’t want to keep in touch. Did I do something wrong?” She’d promised herself not to go down this road, yet here she was, wanting—no, needing—to understand what had happened.

  “No. It wasn’t you. It was me.”

  “The old, it’s-not-you-it’s-me argument.” She laughed softly, an empty, bitter sound.

  “It’s the truth. It’s not just a line. I wasn’t mentally ready to be in a relationship. That’s no excuse, but it’s the truth.”

  Anika remained silent, staring at the granite countertop.

  “Running into you has reminded me of what I left. Of what we had.” Reed came around to her side. “Are you seeing anyone?”

  “I’m not answering your question.”

  “So you’re not seeing anyone?” he pressed.

  Her gaze shot up to his. “Why do you care?”

  “Are you?” His determined gaze locked with hers.

  Unbelievable. He wouldn’t stop until she answered. Anika laughed softly and stared out the window at the deck. Finally, she responded. “I date.”

  “But you’re not seeing anyone seriously?”

  “Not at the moment.”

  “I find that hard to believe.”

  “Why? Different people are searching for different things.”

  “What are you searching for?”

  “You’re not my type, Reed.”

  “I don’t believe that. Venice says different.”

  “I was hurting then. I needed to feel better, and you helped me feel better. I appreciated it so much, but that’s all it was. We made each other feel better. I’ve accepted that.”

  “I thought that’s all it was, too, until I saw you again. Dammit, Anika, I know it was just six days, but I keep thinking about what happened between us. How perfect we were together. At least I thought we were perfect. Did you?” His eyes blazed with an earnest flame.

  Shallow breaths left his lips, and her own breaths shortened at the memories. Touring the city on a scooter, an achy hunger filling her as she pressed her breasts against his firm back. Spending the night in deep conversation like an old couple, sharing a meal, licking the sticky sweetness of chocolate and sugar off each other’s fingers. Waking up next to him each morning and burrowing deeper into his embrace as his hands caressed her hypersensitive breasts, belly, and hips. She’d never experienced anything like it before or since. Reed easily embodied all the traits of the men her love quotes were about.

  “I did think we were perfect, but…”

  “But what?”

  She held her breath.

  “I don’t want to hurt you, Reed.”

  The tip of his finger touched her wrist and slowly dragged across her skin, leaving fire in the wake of his touch.

  “Then don’t.”

  Anika’s inhibitions lowered as she drowned in the intensity of his eyes. Her heartbeat tripled in rate, the temptation to forgive and tell him everything—the ugly truth, her own fears—trembled on the tip of her lips. She opened her mouth to reply, but the slamming of the front door and the sound of a little girl’s voice sidelined her answer.

  “Daddy! Look what I got. Where are you?”

  They both took a step back, and Anika clutched the briefcase to her chest, as if to stop the pain that blossomed behind her breasts.

  “I’m in the kitchen,” Reed called out. Regret filled his eyes and his jaw tightened.

  A little girl dressed in jeans and a gray sweatshirt with Butterfly Girl in a glitter design on the front raced into the kitchen carrying a plastic container of strawberries. She stopped abruptly when she saw Anika.

  “Brielle, this is Miss Anika.”

  She sidled up to her father’s thigh. “Hi, Miss Anika,” Brielle said shyly, biting her bottom lip.

  “Hi there,” Anika greeted back.

  “She’s going to make our house and your room all pretty,” Reed said.

  “With butterflies?” Brielle asked hopefully, her eyes getting big and round.

  “Oh, of course. Your daddy explained how important the butterflies are,” Anika said.

  Reed placed a hand on top of his daughter’s coal black hair, styled on top of her head in a thick curly bun. She was an adorable little girl, with full cheeks, brown eyes and skin tinted a hint of color darker than his.

  In addition to the shock that Reed was a father, Anika now added another unexpected development. Reed’s daughter was mixed race.

  Chapter 5

  Anika heard the front door open and close again, and a tall, slender woman with pale skin and warm eyes entered the kitchen carrying canvas totes filled with groceries, one in each hand.

  “Hello,” she said, a pleasant smile on her face. Her short black hair was peppered with gray at the temples.

  “Mrs. Miller, this is Anika. She’s an interior designer. Anika, this is my housekeeper, Mrs. Miller. She’s also Brielle’s nanny. She keeps the house running in an orderly fashion and makes it all look easy.” Reed took the bags and set them on the bar.

  “That’s not so hard when I have such lovely clients,” Mrs. Miller said.

  Her melodic Southern drawl had a soothing quality and inspired calm. Anika couldn’t imagine her yelling and thought she had a future in radio if she ever wanted to switch careers.

  “Miss Anika is going to make our new house look pretty,” Brielle announced.

  “Oh, wonderful. I can’t wait to see what you do with the place.”

  “Mrs. Miller hopes that it’s an improvement over what we have now,” Reed said.

  “It takes time. Can’t rush these things, but this house is so much better than the old apartment.”

  “Oh yeah.” Reed groaned. “Nice location, beautiful interior, but terrible management. Nothing worked in the apartment. If we plugged in more than one appliance to an outlet, the breaker tripped. And the plumbing was an absolute nightmare.”

  Mrs. Miller shook her head. “My goodness, how many times did the poor maintenance man have to stop in?”

  “Too many. Now I know why I got such a good deal on the place.”

  “It was a blessing in disguise. The apartment was in such bad shape, it made you move quickly to buy a house, and you were fortunate to find this gem.” Mrs. Miller patted Reed’s arm in a maternal manner. “Brielle, you want to help me put away the groceries? Then we can wash the strawberries.”

  “Okay!” Brielle handed over the container to her nanny and upturned her face to Anika. “We wash the strawberries with vinegar and water so they last longer. Then I have strawberries as my snack all week.” She seemed very excited about that, and skipped over to the refrigerator, where she and Mrs. Miller started placing items on the shelves.

  “I better get going,” Anika said. “I’ll be in touch soon with some ideas for the house.”

  “I’ll walk you out.”

  Anika didn’t want him to but couldn’t protest without drawing attention to herself. They walked in silence to her red sedan parked at the end of the driveway.

  “She loves strawberries. Mrs. Miller taught me that vinegar trick. Brielle’s grandmother in Dallas said Brielle was hooked on blueberries the same way at one time.”

  “Funny how when kids enjoy something, they focus on it so they can experience it over and over again.” Anika placed her briefcase and purse on the passenger seat and shut the car door. “Well, I’ll be in touch.”

  “Before you go…I want to talk about what happened before my daughter and Mrs. Miller showed up.”

  “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

  “Why not?” A frown sat between his eyebrows.

  “Reed, I don’t know what you want me to say. Venice was wo
nderful, but we were young and had a great time. That’s all it was.”

  “You’re not even curious to see if our chemistry still exists?”

  “I’m sure it does.” She knew it did, actually. At least from her point of view. “But you have a child now, and I have a career that’s very important to me.”

  “Is it because of Brielle? You don’t date men with kids...?”

  Part of why she gravitated toward older men was because she didn’t have to worry about them having little children—or wanting any. But that wasn’t the reason for her decision about Reed.

  “My decision is based on our past experience together.”

  He leaned closer. “I thought we could explore being together—see if that trip was a fluke or not.”

  Anika stepped back. His nearness made her jittery. Actions speak louder than words, the saying went. She’d observed his actions and believed he cared. Then his words had cut her in two.

  “To what end?”

  “Anika—”

  “You hurt me, Reed. Yes, I know we spent less than a week together, but you hurt me. You helped me get over my boyfriend and heal from his rejection, then you twisted the knife in me again.” Anika took a deep breath. She was getting emotional.

  “You never told me why the two of you broke up.”

  “The reason doesn’t matter.” She clasped her shaking hands together. “Bottom line, I don’t trust you, and I’m not convinced you’re not the same kind of man simply because you say so.”

  “I am different. And what I feel for you is real.”

  “What you feel for me? After all this time, what do you think that is? Lust?”

  “Not just lust,” he said with a flash of anger. “It wasn’t just lust then and it’s not simply lust now.” His jaw hardened. “I don’t know how to explain, but for the past seven years, I’ve thought about you and wondered where you were and if you were okay. I panicked, because you represented change I wasn’t ready to embrace. I can see all of that clearly now, but I couldn’t then.”

  “I’m so happy for you, but that’s not my problem. I just want to do my job and move on. Please don’t make this difficult for me. If you prefer, I could see if Laura would reassign your project—”

  “No!” He looked at her aghast.

  “Then you have to respect my request to stop.” Her hands fisted at her sides and her voice got louder as desperation sank its savage claws into her. “I don’t want to explore a relationship with you.”

  “Respect your wishes.” He laughed softly, bitterly.

  “Or I’ll ask to have you reassigned.”

  “You want to get away from me that bad, princess?”

  The softly spoken endearment was almost her undoing. He definitely wasn’t playing fair. “Only if you persist.”

  His face cemented into hard lines. “Understood.”

  Their gazes locked as her heart battered her chest.

  “Hello there!” A cheery salutation broke the stare off. It came from a dark-haired woman who’d walked up carrying a toddler in her arms. A little girl who appeared to be about five years old rode ahead on a scooter with a helmet on.

  “Hi, Dharma.” Reed didn’t bother summoning a smile for his neighbor.

  She was all smiles, however. “Hello, Reed.” Her eyes swept his tall frame, full of feminine appreciation.

  Reed introduced both women.

  “An interior designer. How fascinating. Making some changes to the house?”

  “A few things,” Reed muttered. Clearly uninterested in the conversation, he kept his attention on Anika.

  “I can’t use your services right now, but I’m sure one of my friends could at some point. Nothing too drastic, you understand. The women I’m thinking about are in the same boat as me—divorced, single moms who don’t have a spare nickel.” Dharma laughed, slanting a glance at Reed to gauge his reaction. He ignored her. “Do you have any cards with you?” she asked.

  “I do.” Anika retrieved three from her purse. “Here you go.” She handed them over.

  “Thank you so much. I’m sure I’ll be sending business your way in the near future.” She hoisted her son higher on her hip. “Reed, I hope we’ll see you at the neighborhood Easter party. It’s a lot of fun, and I’m sure Brielle will enjoy it. The kids have a blast hunting for the eggs. And we still have to set up a play date for our girls.”

  “I’ll work on that.”

  “Anika, it was nice to meet you.” She walked away, calling out to her daughter, “Honey, slow down. Don’t get too far ahead of me.”

  “There’s the relationship you should explore,” Anika said.

  “I’m not interested in her.”

  “And I’m not interested in you.”

  Quiet.

  “Funny. I don’t believe that.”

  “I see you still have a big ego.”

  “It’s not ego. It’s the truth.”

  “I don’t want to talk about this anymore.”

  “Why not?”

  “Why not?” She let out a humorless laugh. “What do you want to talk about? You left.”

  “I didn’t want to.”

  “If you didn’t want to, then why did you?” She only gave him a second to respond before she launched into her own explanation. “You left because you wanted to. I was just another notch on your belt.”

  “That’s not true.”

  “Yes, it is. Let’s not make what happened into more than it was. We had fun. Isn’t that what you said? It’s over. It’s done. Two young people happened to be in Venice at the same time and hooked up. It’s one of those stories you tell about your wild younger days, but it’s just a story. So do me a favor, Reed. Stop talking about it. I did what you asked. I forgot about you.”

  Dark color blazed across his cheekbones. “Fine. I’ll respect your wishes—for now.”

  It was unnerving how direct he was about his intentions. He headed back up the walkway.

  Anika took two steps after him. “What did you mean by that?”

  “Can’t wait to see those designs. Bye, Anika.”

  “Reed, what did you mean by that?”

  He stopped at the stairs leading up to the porch. “Don’t go getting any ideas and asking your boss to get reassigned. I’d hate to share with Judge Evers that my experience with your design firm didn’t go as well as she thought it would. It might mean you don’t get any more referrals.” He paused long enough to let the words sink in. “Have a good afternoon.” He disappeared inside the house.

  Anika stood there for a few minutes longer, her mouth hanging open in shock. He’d threatened her to ensure they continued working together. The gall. The audacity!

  She marched around to the driver’s side and hopped into her car. Gripping the steering wheel and silently fuming, she drove away from the neighborhood, fast. So she could escape this new determined Reed, and the memories of their time together.

  Chapter 6

  Venice

  They took the vaporetto, or waterbus, to Murano. Murano was a quieter, calmer part of Venice. Though technically a series of islands linked together by bridges, Murano was known as the Glass Island. Anika was excited to see the glassblowers in action. She’d read up on the practice of glassmaking the night before and learned that because of the fire hazard it presented, in 1291 the Venetian Republic ordered glassmakers to move their foundries to Murano. Not long after, the artisans became leaders in the community, their social status elevated to the point that their daughters could marry into blue-blood families.

  They visited two museums, the first housed in a former patrician palace where the exhibits delved into the history of making glass, all the way back to Egyptian times. Hours later, Anika was lost in the displays of the second museum, when Reed said, “Okay, time to go.”

  She looked up from examining a series of colorful glass jars on a raised platform. “What? Why?”

  Reed took her hand and pulled her from the room.

  “Excuse you. What a
re you doing?” Anika whispered fiercely, half-jogging to keep up with his long strides. People stared as they hustled by.

  “I’m falling asleep. Time for us to check out the real action and watch these guys work.”

  Outside, he continued to hold her hand under the guise of hurrying her along. She couldn’t read anything from his expression. Her insides, however, were going topsy-turvy.

  They’d spent almost every waking moment in each other’s company during the past two days. Last night they danced the night away—grinding on each other at a nightclub before stumbling back to the hotel, drunk off the energy of partying with other twenty-something-year-olds and tossing back drinks for hours. Anika had never been drunk before and woke up in the middle of the night to throw up. Reed, sensitive guy that he was, refused to let her stay in this morning to nurse her hangover and wallow in self-pity. He gave her a couple aspirins, told her to stay hydrated, and dragged her out on this excursion.

  Anika had no doubt Reed was interested in her, but to what extent? Was spending hours upon hours together just a way for him to kill time on the trip? Or did he experience the same tingling sensation in the bottom of his belly the way she did when he touched her—the way he was touching her now? Did his heart fly high in his chest when she approached, the way hers did when she met him each morning for breakfast before they set out to sightsee?

  Not wanting to spoil the moment, Anika simply kept her hand ensconced in Reed’s, savoring their stroll along the canal walk. Unfortunately, when they arrived at the factory, he released her so she could enter ahead of him. She rubbed her hands together and found a spot near the front where she could see the artisan at work. Reed stood behind her, not touching, but close enough that the heat from his body warmed her back.

  When the demonstration began, the speaker described the process in accented English, while the artisan worked the glass with care and precision. In less than ten minutes he’d turned a shapeless piece of silica into a sparkling blue and white vase by alternating between softening it with heat in a giant oven and shaping it with heavy steel tools.

  Afterward, everyone filed into the adjacent shop, a bright colorful contrast to the dark gray of the workshop. White walls presented the perfect backdrop where paperweights, jewelry, and other knickknacks filled the counters and shelves.