Page 97 of Chasing Caine
Chapter 32
Samantha
Ilaynakedandwarm—from the inside out—on a bed of blankets and pillows on the hotel floor. Antonio stretched out next to me on his side, dangling a chocolate-covered strawberry over my mouth.
I shook my head. “I guess the answer’s nine days.”
“Scusa?” He settled back and bit into the strawberry when I didn’t reach for it.
My eyes fluttered closed and I exhaled, long and slow, hands clasped over my midsection. “Because if that’s not being made love to properly, I don’t think I care to know what is.”
“You’re quite limber. That helps.”
I chuckled. “I’ll have to start yoga.”
Something hit the metal platter near his head, barely audible over the music playing from a small portable speaker; likely the uneaten portion of the strawberry. “So you concede? Spending an entire day in bed is now your idea of a perfect day, as well?”
I tilted my head and creaked one eye open enough to wink at him. “I still say nature hike.”
He gasped theatrically and rolled up onto his side, latching a leg over me, pulling my hip to him. “Then we’re not done. We have oysters left. And caviar. And so many hours before sunset.”
I put up a hand to stop him, but just threaded it into the soft hair at the nape of his neck. We’d abandoned the furniture when the food and champagne arrived around noon. He’d thrown the table onto the bed, so we had as much floor space as possible.
Light poured in through the balcony door, lighting him from behind, so the golden flecks in his eyes were hidden in shadow. But the playful look in them was ever constant.
How had I gotten so lucky?
“You’re staring, bella.”
I sighed, “I know.”
That look came over him again. The one that sometimes ended with a whispered ‘I love you’ and other times just ended with a knowledge deep in my soul that he was thinking it.
If he was thinking it without saying it, that meant it was real, didn’t it? Words were so easy, but feelings were tough. Unpredictable.
Unreliable.
A knock came at the door, and Antonio’s eyes danced with mischief.
“What now?”
“Stay there!” He grabbed a bathrobe, barely knotting it about his waist before padding to the door. He opened it, said a quiet “Grazie,” and closed the door.
I craned my neck around to see him come down the hallway with another bag. “Not more food?”
“Oh, no.” From within, he pulled a small bottle filled with a pale yellow liquid. “The finest bath oil in the city. Neroli and lavender to relax and remove any remaining stress. If it’s possible you have any stress left.”
“I feel like I barely even have any bones left, I’m so relaxed.”
“First time in your life?”
I eased my position and closed my eyes again. “Pretty close.”
“Then you lie here and I’ll run the bath.” His air filled the space around me and his lips met my forehead. “I’ll come back and carry you once it’s ready.”
“Sounds good.”
“Perhaps we shall find some of thosebonesin there?”