Page 47 of Chasing Caine

We all nodded and said our goodbyes. Antonio and I headed back along the narrow street, enjoying our gelato.

“Intern with the FBI?” he asked once we were out of earshot. “Don’t tell me this is another long and uninteresting story?”

I shrugged. “Pretty much.”

“Any other internships I should know about?”

“Nope, just the two.”

“And he wants you to work with him?”

Every time I saw Elliot, it was the same thing. And I wasn’t ready to talk about it with anyone. I pointed my spoon at his gelato. “Is that pistachio?”

He took the hint, stopping to scoop some out for me. I joined him in the middle of the street, grinning when he wouldn’t let me take the spoon. He fed it to me, the rich creaminess overpowering my taste buds. It was sweeter than mine, with a subtle nuttiness to it. Kind of like Antonio.

I licked my lips once it was gone. “That tastes almost as good as you do.”

“Almost?” He raised an eyebrow.

“Try mine.” Scooping up half-and-half gianduja and vanilla, I shared with him, wanting to get back to the moment before I’d seen Elliot.

“They do make the best vanilla.” He nodded thoughtfully and winked at me. “But it doesn’t taste anywhere near as good as you do.”

Shoving my spoon into my gelato, I grabbed his shirt in my fist and pulled him in for a kiss. People detoured around us on the packed little street. My tongue slid over his and swept across his mouth, his hand sliding up my arm to my face. My hat fell off in the process, but who cared.

As we separated, I sighed. “All three together, plus you, makes the best combo.”

He stared at me, cupping my jaw with his hand, running his thumb across my cheek. That look said it all. Dropping the investigation was the right decision for both of us. He really didn’t care about that fresco as much as he cared about being with me. And that meant more than I would have expected.

Chapter 17

Antonio

Samantha,Mario,andIrounded the corner from the piazza into the small pedestrian street Friday night, arriving at the end of a long line of bodies in their club-going finest. Button-front shirts, short dresses, laughter, and loud voices. We walked past the crowd as the muffled bass thundered out through the walls, peaking every time the door at the front of the line opened. Above us, the curtains covering the windows flashed with color.

Samantha said she preferred a quiet bar where we could chat. I would normally, as well, but this nightclub was Mario’s second home and I loved to dance. She’d agreed to wear the short black dress with a draped neckline, golden medusa medallions on the straps, and crystal-studded sandals. I scanned the women in line as we walked past. None were even a quarter as stunning as she was.

I slung my arm around her shoulders, making our status clear to the men in line who eyed her. To be clearer, I pulled her close for a moment to kiss her temple, and she smiled up at me.

“We won’t be able to hear each other in there, will we?” she asked.

Mario slipped his arm around her waist from her other side. “You two’ve spent too much time talking already.”

I winked at him. “Not much talking going on.”

She pinched me, a sign to be quiet. I kissed her temple again and grinned at her. She should know me better than that by now.

Mario released her and stepped toward the line, to a pretty young woman. Bronzed skin, jet black hair, curvaceous, in a short red dress. “Buonasera, bellissima.”

“Does he say that to everyone?” Samantha said, louder than needed for me to hear, and I laughed.

“Want to skip the line?” Mario had his hand out for her, knowing the answer before she spoke.

She looked at the three women she was with. “Can my friends come?”

Mario shook his head slightly. If I knew him, he’d pursed his lips, following it up with a smirk. He’d taught me many of my best moves, after all.

The woman shrugged her shoulders at her friends and took his hand. “See you girls inside!”