Page 9 of Chasing Caine

I put a hand under her chin, tilting her face up, afraid of her answer. “Do you love me?”

“I don’t know.” Her voice quavered. “But I do know this is the first time I’ve ever run toward something that could hurt so much.”

She was not ready. But she was here. She was making plans to stay in Brenton. To be with me when I finished this project.

I would give her all the time she needed. “I swear, on my life, I’ll never hurt you again.”

Taking her face in my hands, I poured every ounce of tenderness and devotion in my heart into the most perfect kiss. A kiss which showed her I loved her. Told her I wanted forever with her. She pulled herself closer to me, our bodies fitting together perfectly. The sorrow of the last week faded, replaced by the burning desire we’d shared on the beach.

“There is only one problem left, bella.” I grinned as I picked her up and she wrapped her legs around me. “I need far more than two hours to make love to you properly.”

She kissed me again and laughed as she brushed away her tears. “I have a week and a half. Is that enough?”

“That’s not much time. We must get started right away.”

I sealed my mouth to hers and carried her inside, ready for my ten-day campaign to win her back for good.

Chapter 5

Samantha

Antonioledmeintoan expansive corner bedroom on the third floor, windows open to the bay on one side and a private balcony on another. As he closed the windows, drawing their white linen curtains, I stepped onto the balcony to see the view.

Being in Italy, let alone Naples, had barely registered on the drive from the airport. All I could think about was Antonio and what I was going to say.

But I did it. I told him everything—even more than I’d planned.

Now I could marvel over where I stood. The semi-circular Bay of Naples cut into the bustling city, with its rolling hills, the still-active volcano, and a million cultural treasures. With the villa built so high up, I could see down the rocky shore of the Sorrento Peninsula, maybe even to the island of Capri, but I couldn’t tell for sure. The spicy scent of the nearby olive grove was strong on the gentle breeze.

I gripped the warm metal railing and breathed deeply. I’d said everything I needed to say. He was happy. I was happy.

I was, right? Then why were my fingertips still aching with pins and needles?

Music began in the room, soft, sensual.

Rubbing my fingers on the railing helped, but the knot in my stomach tightened. Thousands of dollars on airfare for two hours with Dr. Antonio Ferraro. Art conservator. Flirt. Rich, brilliant, and gorgeous. What was I thinking?

The air grew thick behind me, and his hands slid around my waist. His familiar scent of amber and vanilla replaced the olive grove as he pulled me close and kissed my neck.

“Would you like to stay out here and enjoy the view?” The sound jostled inside me, vibrating through every cell as his lips crept up to my earlobe.

I turned to face him and wrapped my arms around his neck, flexing my fingers to get the feeling back. The last time I’d seen him, I’d broken his heart and pushed him away. After he’d violated my trust.

Now, I’d flown five thousand miles on a whim to be with this man. To be in this moment. And he welcomed me without hesitation.

“No,” I whispered.

He released his hold and took my hands, walking backward to lead me into the room, like I was a skittish animal that might bolt if he moved too fast. He paused to close the balcony doors and their curtains. We passed a cream upholstered couch and his dark-wood desk, stopping next to the enormous bed with its cherrywood frame and light blue sheets.

He slid off my leather jacket, fingers brushing my upper arms, along their length, to my forearms. When the jacket fell to the floor, he pulled my hands to his lips. Goosebumps crept up my arms and across my chest as I gazed into his big brown eyes. Those eyes I hadn’t been able to put out of my mind since the night we met and he’d cheered me up after a horrible week.

I clenched his hands. This was the right choice. The only choice.

“You have no idea how happy you’ve made me.” He placed my arms around his neck and slid his around me. His solid build surrounded me, a surprising comfort. “I’ve waited so long for you, Samantha.”

Someone who dated a different woman every month—a stable of women who called themselves the Calendar Club—wasn’t exactly waiting for anyone.

“I know this look.” He shook his head and leaned in, touching his lips to mine gently. “I’ve been searching for the right woman, not playing around, remember?”