The Italian Read online T.L. Swan

Categories Genre: Angst, Romance Tags Authors:
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Total pages in book: 163
Estimated words: 163540 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 818(@200wpm)___ 654(@250wpm)___ 545(@300wpm)
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I smile. “I design pyjamas,” I remind him.

“You have your own shop?”

“No. I design for Kmart.”

“Kmart?”

“It’s an Australian department store.”

“Oh.” He raises his brows. “How did you train for this job?”

“I went to design school. I never imagined that this is the job I would end up with.”

“Why not?”

“I always wanted to design for a fashion label like Gucci, Hermes, or Chanel.”

He swirls his wine around in his glass. “Why don’t you?”

“I don’t know.” I exhale heavily. “I have tried but I know jobs are ridiculously hard to get with that kind of label. I mean, it’s not that I don’t love my job, because I do. It’s just not what I imagined. You know?”

He nods. “I never thought I would end up being a policeman.”

“Really?” I ask, surprised. “Isn’t that the kind of job kids want to do all their lives?”

He chuckles. “I guess.”

“Your bruschetta,” the waiter says as he puts our entrees onto the table in front of us.

“Grazie.”

Rico dishes out my serve and then his. He likes to be in control. Not that I mind at all. It’s nice having him fuss over me.

“Why did you become a policeman then?” I ask. “It’s not something that you fall into by accident.”

“My father wanted me to do it.”

“Really?”

“Yes, he wanted me to get some life experience. He got me an interview through one of his friends. I didn’t have my heart set on anything else, so I humored him and thought that I could always leave later if I didn’t like it.”

“What did you want to do?”

“I only ever wanted to be happy. A job won’t do that for me.”

What a wonderful thing to aspire for. I lean onto my hand and smile goofily across the table at him.

“What?” He smirks.

“You know, for a fuck boy, you really are quite endearing.”

He laughs in surprise. “A fuck boy?” He puts his hand on his stomach and really laughs, and I find myself laughing too. Other people in the restaurant look over at our table.

“What?” I ask.

“I have never been called that before. Even when I was a boy, I was never called that.” His eyes dance with delight. “You really are quite the surprise package, Olivia.”

I lift his hand to my lips and kiss his fingertips, his eyes have a tender glow to them as he watches me.

“Wait until you see me clean your bathroom.” I smile.

He chuckles again. “I look forward to it.”

“I have a surprise for you tonight,” Rico says as he lies down beside me on his bed.

I sit up onto my elbow.

“What?”

It’s Sunday morning, and he has been on the phone organizing something. He’s been speaking Italian, though, so I have no idea what is going on.

He grins. “Let’s just say that I think you’ll be pleased with me.”

We stare at each other as something runs between us. It’s been there since last night when we made love—a tenderness. A feeling of closeness. It’s unexpected and disarming.

Does he feel it, too?

I’m being completely myself and he likes me as I am. I feel cherished. I feel cared for and desired, and damn it, why the fuck does he live in Italy?

“What’s the surprise?” I ask to change the direction of my thoughts.

“It happens at 11:00 p.m.”

“I’m intrigued. Why that time?”

“That’s the time that the gods choose.” He rolls me over onto my back and smiles down at me.

“Are you going to fuck me at 11:11,” I tease. “Is that what the gods want?”

He laughs out loud and it’s a beautiful sound. “No, I’m going to fuck you at 12:11. 11:11 is for something else—something better.”

I giggle as his lips touch mine. “Nothing could be that good.”

It’s 11:00 p.m. and I’m standing at the side door of the Pantheon.

Enrico is behind me, and I am encased by his protective arms. We’ve had another amazing day and this is his surprise for me.

“Rici,” I whisper up at him.

“Yes?”

“I love this surprise already.”

He gently kisses my lips.

I have no idea what it is. The Pantheon isn’t even open, but it’s cool just being here in this greatness.

The door opens and a man comes into view. He’s wearing a suit and seems important. He bows his head. “Enrico, my child, come in.”

I bite my lip. “What the hell?” I whisper as we follow the man.

The Pantheon is lit up with candles and spotlights. It’s perfect.

It’s like something out of a movie.

Rico turns to me and takes my hands in his. “Tonight, Olivia, we get to speak to the gods.”

“What?”

“Through centuries, this has been my family’s tradition. We each have a turn. It wasn’t my year, but I swapped with someone so you could experience this, too.”

“Rici,” I whisper in wonder. My eyes roam around the huge round space, at the marble columns and the beautiful flooring.

“Pantheon means honor of gods, and it is the best preserved Roman monument,” he says. “It’s over two thousand years old and still has the original flooring and marble.”



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