Page 11 of Her Dirty Secret
I agree with him, but I hold back, already feeling exposed. “Well, it’s a start.” I take a step back. “Shall we?”
With a smile, he gestures for me to precede him out.
It turns out the house we’re staying in is pretty far up the hill, so we walk in a loud, raucous group down to the closest bar to eat. The lot of them spend hours eating, talking, and drinking, and I do my best to keep up. Though exhausted, I learn one thing. It’s practically impossible to get an Italian drunk. They drink more than I do, which is saying something, but they space it out, and eat enough to where it hardly seems to affect them. Though it might also be the jet lag that’s causing the little I drink to hit me hard.
I look over at Alessandro, though, and he seems completely unaffected. I swoon backward into the booth we’re sitting in, giving up trying to engage. Thankfully, Valentina sits on the other end the whole time, so at least I haven’t had to contend with her flirting for his attention. She seems happy enough to flirt with the other half dozen available men. The tramp.
I hear my name being spoken amid the rapid Italian shooting around the table, then warm arms sliding under me.
“Time to go home, Cara Mia,” Alessandro says, his deep voice rumbling in my ear. I look up, realizing my head is on his chest.
“I can walk,” I murmur sleepily.
He laughs, and it makes me smile.
“Shhhh, bella,” he hushes me. “I’ve got you.”
Too tired to protest further, I surrender, my eyelids sliding shut.
Three
Emily
I wake up with more arms than I should have. Looking down, the one over my waist is significantly hairier. I crane my neck backward and see Alessandro tucked behind me.
I roll over with a smile, noting the small windows are open, and I can hear shorebirds calling in the early morning sunshine. It’s plenty warm in the room, and I’m still wearing the slinky dress I put on for Bryce and Sera’s party.
I examine Alessandro’s face for a moment. He looks more his age when he’s asleep, without the smile he usually has, but he’s no less handsome for it. I stop myself from kissing him, or even touching him, though I want to do both. And a whole hell of a lot more.
“Like what you see?” he asks without opening his eyes. It startles me so much I jump back a little. He laughs, finally opening his eyes. “Mi dispiace. I didn’t mean to scare you.”
I push on his chest. “Yes, you did.”
His answering sideways grin makes me wish we were wearing fewer clothes. “You’re right, I did.” He lifts his wrist to look at his watch. “Perfetto. It’s almost nine. By the time we get cleaned up, there will probably be breakfast still.”
He sits up, swinging his legs over the bed and unbuttoning his shirt to reveal a black undershirt.
“Don’t you have your own room?” I tease him, propping my head up on my elbow.
He looks back at me with a sexy smirk. “Sí, bella. But I underestimated how tired I was last night, and I fell asleep here before I could make it there,” he explains.
I give him a skeptical look. “Is that so?”
He tosses his shirt onto a chair beside the bed and turns back to me fully. “Quit laying there looking so sexy,” he murmurs, not answering me. “This question may be the death of me, but I trust you brought a bathing suit?”
I narrow my eyes at him. “I’m starting to think you’re just a big flirt,” I reply. “But yes, I did. A two-piece, if you must know.”
He looks mildly insulted, laying a hand over his chest in mock indignation. “Me? A flirt? Such accusations,” he grumbles, teasing me. “There’s a bathroom just outside in the hall if you’d like a shower. Then be ready in your suit. Preferably with something over it so I don’t do anything untoward at the breakfast table.”
I sit up, shaking my head. “See? There you go again with the flirting.”
“It’s not flirting if you’re serious.”
“Pfff. Says who?”
He grins. “Me.” He winks at me.
I shove his chest a little as I climb by him off the bed. “You’re impossible.”