"Ah. But I'm a bastard, so I should still qualify."


She poked him in the chest. "You're not a bastard. You're a sweetheart."


"Must I prove I'm a bastard?" He reached underneath her cape and tickled her ribs. "Take that. And beware, or I will jab you with the comfy cushions."


She wiggled away from him, giggling. "Stop it, you... tramp."


With a laugh, he pulled her onto his lap. "My lady."


Her laughter faded as she slid her hands around his neck and gazed into his eyes. "Jack."


He squeezed her hip. "Woof."


She smiled. "A real bastard might try to take advantage of me." She nuzzled her nose against his cheek.


"I'll do my best." He turned his head to take her mouth. Her lips opened, inviting him in. He circled his tongue inside her mouth and stroked her tongue.


She moaned, then suddenly broke the kiss. She glanced over his shoulder at the dark canopy separating them from the gondolier. "I forgot we're not alone."


"They're used to it. Venice has always been a place for lovers."


She raked a hand through his hair. "Is that what you want us to be-lovers?"


"Mmm-hmm." Underneath the cape, he skimmed his hand down her skirt till he reached bare skin.


She ran her fingertips along his jaw. "Everyone keeps telling me what a good man you are."


"Mmm-hmm." His hand crept under the hem of her skirt. "I'm as trustworthy as a priest."


"So I hear. Shanna said I could trust you."


"Mmm-hmm." His fingers inched up her bare thigh. "I'm practically a saint."


She glanced down at the cape where his hidden hand made a bulge that continued to move up her thigh. "What exactly are you doing?"


His mouth twitched. "Searching for the Holy Land?" He reached the edge of her panties, Lace, by the feel of it.


She frowned. "Perhaps you should know that I'm not-I mean, I don't normally-" She gasped when his hand slipped under her panties. "Jack, you... bastard."


"That's me." He squeezed her bare rump.


"Jack," she breathed. "We shouldn't..." She glanced nervously at the canopy.


"I know. You're just so hard to resist." He patted her bottom, then started to slide his hand out from under her panties.


Her panties came with him. With a gulp, he quickly moved his hand so the panties would be in place. Then he slowly moved his hand down. There was a tug on his ring, and the panties moved with him.


Merda! Her lace panties had snagged on his ring, the signet ring he'd inherited from his father, Giacomo Casanova. His father had seduced hundreds of women without any problems whatsoever, and he was having trouble with just one. This was the real reason he never used the Casanova name. He could never live up to his father's reputation. The old man was probably laughing in his grave.


CHAPTER 14


"Nine circles of hell," Jack muttered.


"Hell?" Lara asked. "I thought I was the Holy Land."


"You're paradise. Unfortunately, I am stuck there." Her eyes widened. "Stuck?"


"Normally, I would love being stuck to your lovely bum, but it might look odd if we go sightseeing with my hand under your skirt. Especially in the basilica." She glanced down. "How can you be stuck?"


"My ring. It's caught in the lace. See?" He moved his hand down her hip, dragging her undies down a few inches.


"Okay, stop." She bit her lip, frowning, then suddenly giggled. "I can't believe this has happened."


"I assure you, as much as I had hoped to get your clothes off, this was not part of my original plan." She snorted. "No problem. Just rip yourself loose."


"Are you sure? It will destroy your undies."


She narrowed her eyes with a seductive look. "Rip it."


"Very well." He jerked his hand away, but the panties came with him. He yanked his hand back and forth, but the lacy, latex material simply stretched with him. "Santo cielo, they are indestructible."


Lara laughed.


He continued to wage battle, but to no avail. "They could use this material to build spaceships."


She shook her head, grinning. "Maybe you should try taking your ring off."


He pushed at it with his thumb, but it didn't budge. "I would need to put my other hand up your skirt."


"A likely story." She cast him a sly look. "I think the only option left is for you to do the gentlemanly thing and cut your hand off."


"I prefer it attached, if you don't mind. And you might enjoy what I could do with it." While she snorted, he lifted her slightly. "Fortunately, I have another option." He slid his hand and the panties down her legs.


She gasped. "What are you doing?"


"It will only take a moment." He pulled the panties over her shoes.


"You'd better give them back." She quickly adjusted the cape to make sure she was covered from head to ankles.


"I will." He tried to free the panties from his ring. "You don't happen to have any scissors, do you?"


The gondola jolted as it came to a stop. Lara grabbed his shoulders to steady herself.


"Piazza San Marco," the gondolier announced as he tied the gondola off. His steps sounded closer as he came around the canopy.


"Oh no," Lara breathed.


Jack yanked the ring off his hand and stuffed it and the panties into his jacket pocket. "I'll get them back to you."


"I can't believe this." With a grimace, she stood and wrapped the cape around herself. The gondolier helped her disembark.


Jack could practically hear his father's mocking laughter as he led her toward the piazza. And like a true Casanova, his thoughts kept returning to her lack of panties. It was as if the gauntlet had been tossed. The castle walls had been breached. The inner sanctum was his for the taking. Before the night was over, he would touch paradise.


He couldn't force her, though. He needed to be smooth, like his father. Of course! He pulled out his cell phone and made a quick call to Mario with new instructions for Lorenzo. Mario assured him that everything was going according to plan. He rang off just as they reached the entrance to the piazza.


"Wow. It's bigger than I thought it would be." Lara squinted as she surveyed their surroundings. "I wish I could see better. Shouldn't we come back during the day?" She gave him a wry look. "Fully dressed?"


"There are too many tourists then."


A breeze swept past them, billowing the cape around Lara's legs. She shivered.


"Are you cold?" Jack wrapped an arm around her.


She gave him an annoyed look. "I'm feeling a slight draft."


He smiled. "Don't worry. The place is deserted. No one will see you but a few pigeons. And a priest. Come, I want to introduce you to Father Giuseppe." He spotted the old man across the piazza on the church steps.


Lara strolled beside him. "Isn't the church closed?"


"Father Giuseppe will let us in. He's an old friend."


"You get special favors from the Church?"


He shrugged. "I told you, I'm practically a saint."


"I'm practically naked," she muttered.


"Miracles do happen." Jack ascended the steps. "Thank you, Father, for meeting us."


The old priest embraced Jack, then spoke in Italian. "Have you been behaving yourself, Giacomo?"


"Of course, Father. May I introduce Lara Boucher from America?"


"Signorina." The priest bowed to Lara and switched to English. "It is a pleasure. You wish to see the Basilica San Marco?"


"Yes, I'd love to. Thank you."


"This way." Father Giuseppe fumbled through a large ring of keys as he led them toward a side door. He unlocked it, then flipped on some lights. "Come in, please."


Jack and Lara followed the priest into the nave of the cathedral. Their footsteps echoed through the large building, and statues stared down at them. Jack slipped some euros into a collection box.


"I just realized I don't have my handbag," Lara whispered. "I can't give a donation."


"It's all right. We left it at Romatech. We'll get it later."


Father Giuseppe gave them a tour, but his yawns grew longer and more pronounced as time slipped by.


"You're tired, Father," Jack finally told him in Italian. "And I have interrupted your sleep. We can continue on our own, if you like."


"Very well. I'll take you to the campanile."


Father Giuseppe gave him a worried look as they left the church. "She's a nice girl. You must treat her well, my son."


"I will." Jack ushered Lara down the steps.


A cool breeze fluttered her cape, and she pulled it close to her.


The priest stopped in front of the campanile and fumbled through his keys. "Does she know who you are?"


Jack sighed. "She knows my personality and character."


"That's not what I meant, and you know it." Father Giuseppe unlocked the door, then turned on the lights. He regarded Jack sadly. "You will have to tell her."


Jack swallowed hard. He knew from past experience that telling a woman the truth meant losing her. He couldn't risk going through that kind of pain. "I don't want to lose her."


The priest rested a hand on his shoulder. "You must have faith, Giacomo. Love does not judge, nor will it be unkind." He turned to Lara and made the sign of the cross in front of her. "May God bless you," he spoke in English.


"Thank you, Father," she whispered.


"Grazie." Jack hugged his old friend, then escorted Lara inside the bell tower.


The priest closed the door behind them, and the loud click echoed through the tower.


"He's not locking us in, is he?" Lara whispered.


Jack shrugged. "If he does, I can always teleport us out."


Her eyes narrowed. "You could have just teleported us to the top, right?"


"I could have, but I wanted you to have the full tourist experience." He led her inside the elevator and punched the button for the top floor.


With a lurch, the elevator began its ascent.


She shook her head. "I can't believe I've been talking to a priest with no underwear."


Jack smiled at her. "I'm fairly certain he was wearing underwear."


She scoffed. "So how do you manage to get preferential treatment around here?"


"I told you, I'm practically a saint." He pressed a hand against his heart.


She made a face at him. "You didn't answer my question."


"Very well. The original campanile fell down in 1902. There was no money to rebuild it till 1912 when... my family gave them a very large donation."


The elevator doors opened, and they exited onto the observation floor of the bell tower.


"Come see the view." He motioned toward the open window.


Lara remained in front of the elevator. "Your family gave them a donation in 1912?"


"Yes." Merda. Was she onto him? He lifted a hand toward her. "Come have a look."


"It wasn't your family, was it?" she whispered. "It was you."


His hand dropped by his side. Nine circles of hell He should have known she'd start figuring things out.


Her face grew pale. "I'm right, aren't I? It would be so easy for you to say that I'm wrong, but you can't bring yourself to say it."


His hands balled into fists. "Lara-"


"Just tell me the truth. How old are you?"


He turned to look out the window. Stars twinkled over a sea of red-tiled roofs. His heart raced. How much should he say? "I have come here so many times over the years, but I was always alone." He looked at her. "Till I met you."


She moved toward him. "Can you be honest with me?"


"Lara, I am falling in love with you."


She inhaled sharply. "Oh God." She pressed a hand to her mouth. "But how can we-is there any hope for us?"


"I've been told that when there is love, there is hope." You must have faith, the old man had told him.


Lara's eyes glistened with tears. "I'm afraid you're so much older than me, and so different from me."


"Inside, we are the same."


A cool breeze swept around them and fluttered her hair. She shivered and wrapped the cape around herself. Music drifted up from the piazza. An accordion played, then a baritone voice began to sing.


Jack glanced down. Lorenzo was playing the accordion, and he'd brought one of Venezia's finest singers to the piazza to perform for Lara.


"Oh my God." She peered down from the window. "He's singing Bella Notte. " She looked at Jack with tears in her eyes. "You arranged that for me?"


"Yes." He took her hand. "Will you be my lady, Lara?"


"I want to be."


"Then no power on this earth can stop us." He pulled her into his arms and kissed her with all the passion he'd kept locked up for so many nights.


This was the night-the bella notte when she would become his. He'd wanted to share Venezia with her. There was so little he could share, so little information he could tell her, that this had felt like the only way to get close to her. And the way she was responding gave him more hope than he'd had for almost two hundred years.


She was clinging to him, opening to him, melting against him. He invaded her mouth, and she sucked on his tongue. He smoothed his hands down her back and cupped her rear. When he pulled her against his swollen groin, she moaned.