Page 23 of Chasing Caine
I returned to mentally cataloging the bags, trying to guess what was in each of them. “We’re going to Capri tomorrow?”
Sliding his hand out of mine, he reached into a bag and withdrew a black, wide-brimmed sun hat. He kissed my forehead and placed the hat on my head, its floppy brim blocking out half the room. “Sì, to explore and visit a beach and some restaurants.”
“That’s why we can’t go back to the lab tomorrow?” I dragged the hat from my head and threw it on the bed.
“Mario can take care of it.” He reached into another bag and withdrew a white string bikini.
My style was one-piece racing suits or a racer back with boy shorts. Something I could do laps or go scuba diving in. Not little triangles of fabric which would expose me if I turned around too quickly. And not a little costume for a trip, which would prevent me from tracking down what happened to the flower fresco. I snatched the tiny bathing suit from him, shaking it. “I’m not a dress-up doll.”
“Alright.” He stepped away and pulled his phone out of a pocket. He forced a tight smile, but the still-flexed jaw told the real story. “I’ll reschedule the trip to Capri and we can go to the Park tomorrow. Then we can visit Napoli to return everything and buy what you want.”
I put my hand on his phone before he finished dialing. “Why did you do this?”
He stared at my hand on his phone, but didn’t move it. “I already told you.”
“But it’s so much money.”
He shrugged and turned toward the bags, slipping his phone into his pocket. Picking up a Versace bag with its Medusa emblem, he stretched out his jaw. “I told Chiara how little you brought and that you needed enough for ten days. That was it. It was a brief phone call while you were in the shower. She bought more than I expected.” He shook his head and passed the bag to me.
Running a hand through his hair, he settled it at the back of his neck as he continued, “Pretend for a moment I’m Perseus, presenting the head of the Medusa to Minerva.”
His eyes stayed locked on mine, crinkled at their corners. I recognized this side of him, the rare nervous side. We’d only made up yesterday. He’d gone too far too quickly, and he knew it.
“Bella.” He picked up another bag and handed it to me. I looked inside this one and saw more floral fabric. Another dress? And another bag. Sandals. “Pretend you’re in a movie.”
I held three bags by their straps, and he handed me two more. Lingerie and another dress.
“Pretend you’re on a spontaneous trip to Napoli with your sexy Latin lover.” His brows remained drawn, but a hint of a smirk appeared.
As he piled three more bags on top of the ones I already held, I cracked a smile. “Well, that one’s kind of true.”
“Samantha, you’re unlike any woman I’ve ever dated.” He placed the hat back on my head.
I intentionally frowned, looking up at the floppy brim and turning it into an eye roll.
“I’m accustomed to women who want me for my money.”
“You know that’s not what I want.”
“I do.” He paused, tilting his head. “It’s harder to accept than you may think.”
I dropped the bags. Hopefully, there wasn’t anything fragile. Stepping over them, I flipped the hat off and threaded my fingers into the short hair at the nape of his neck. Pulling closer, my lips met his, and we pressed together. Eyes closed, I inhaled his fresh vanilla scent and slid my tongue along his. Why would he try to buy me when I’d already flown to Naples to be with him? Maybe I was overreacting.
He broke from the kiss, but held my waist tight against him. His breathing had picked up, and his lids hung low. A shiver ran the length of me, my heart thundering in concert with his and the ache beginning between my thighs.
“Per favore, bella. Say you’ll accept my gifts.”
“But it’s too much mon—”
His mouth pressed against mine before I could say another word. He leaned away from me, the familiar smirk back in place. “Say it.”
“Antonio, I can’t—”
He kissed me again, and we both laughed through it. It was a weak kiss, meant only to shut me up. When the kiss ended this time, he doubled down and raised the eyebrow to emphasize the smirk.
Feigning irritation, I said, “You’re just going to keep—”
When he came in for another kiss, I avoided his mouth. He tried again and I spun out of his grasp, but he kept enough of a hold on me to throw me onto the middle of the bed, where he’d removed the bags. Reaching into another one, he pulled out something small, black, and lacy.