Free The Vendetta by Kecia Adams Page B

around the cavernous rooms.
    “Steady,” said Nick, his hand warm and low on her back. She frowned, not sure she liked him reading her emotions so easily.
    They walked through the grand salon and then the gallery. To Lisa’s eye everything remained exactly as it had been six years ago—gilded moldings, marble statuary, paintings large and small, fine furniture, crystal chandeliers, and floor to ceiling mirrors to reflect the splendor over and over.
    Lisa stopped for a moment at the large photo of Gran displayed over the massive fireplace.
    “You resemble her.” Nick’s voice rumbled softly in her ear.
    She glanced back at him. “So people have said. Personally, I never really saw the similarity.”
    “Perhaps you wouldn’t because the likeness is more in your shared expressions and gestures.”
    Lisa nodded but she didn’t agree. The thought occurred that if Nick was that familiar with her grandmother’s gestures, then he was well acquainted with the principessa. But Lisa had never believed that she even remotely resembled her beautiful, flamboyant grandmother, or her petite and pretty mother, for that matter. No, her individual features perhaps could be attributed here and there: her changeable eyes from Gran, her delicate mouth from her mother, her slim, strong body from her father. But taken as a whole, she’d never been one to stop traffic, and she liked it that way. She’d learned to blend and adapt, even while she’d felt unsophisticated compared to her mother and grandmother.
    Except when it came to art.
    Her entire self came alive when surrounded by art.
    Katya stopped at Gran’s study and gestured for them to enter. Lisa took a deep breath. Her grandmother often preferred the ceremonial to the familial. Lisa had never known which side of her to expect—a grandmother or a principessa.
    She entered the room, aware of Nick behind her, and stood inside the door. Gran looked just as Lisa remembered her, lovely and sharp for someone ninety-six years old. She sat ensconced in an enormous wingback chair near the fireplace. Even from across the room, her hazel eyes still sparked with the authority that had sent Lisa running six years ago.
    “Well, don’t just stand there.” The principessa’s voice made Lisa jump, but she noticed Gran’s hands worrying the crocheted shawl on her lap. “Where are your manners?”
    Lisa gestured toward Nick, and he obediently moved forward. “Grandmother, may I introduce—”
    “I’m well acquainted with Signore Carnavale,” the principessa interrupted. She beckoned impatiently. “Come here, Annalisa, so I can see you, girl.”
    Nick executed a bow that was old-fashioned but entirely appropriate and stepped aside. But Lisa wasn’t about to curtsy and fall flat on her face. She walked forward on shaky knees. “Gran?” Lisa’s voice cracked, and her eyes pricked with tears.
    It took a moment. Then her grandmother’s chin trembled and her eyes softened, somehow communicating both regret and forgiveness. Gran held out her hands, and Lisa rushed the rest of the way forward. Kneeling at her grandmother’s feet, she hid her face in Gran’s lap, just as she had so many years ago.
    “Ah, amore ,” said Gran. “It has been too long, hmm?”
    Lisa sat back and felt Gran’s fingers push the hair out of her face. Lisa put up a hand to hold Gran’s cool, wrinkled palm against her hot cheek.
    “I’m sorry, Gran. I’ve been so stupid.”
    “ Guarda, cara Lisa. I was also wrong. For that I am sorry. I didn’t see…” Her grandmother’s faded hazel eyes closed briefly, then she shook her head. “But no more of that. You are here, and that is what matters.”
    Gran looked up and spoke to Nick. “Carnavale, you will accompany my granddaughter wherever she wants to go in Rome while she is here.”
    The corner of his mouth lifted, but he replied gravely, “It would be my pleasure, Your Excellency.”
    Lisa stood abruptly and wiped the tears off her cheeks. She’d