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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Where is he? I don’t see him. Panic begins to set in.

Then, a black Ferrari comes around the corner. It drives past me and pulls into the loading bay.

He’s here.

My stomach dances in excitement and I have to stop myself from running to him. I casually walk up to the car as if gorgeous rich men pick me up in black Ferraris every single day.

Calm, calm, keeping fucking calm.

I open the passenger door and lean in. “Hi.”

He smirks. “Hi.”

“Going my way?”

“If I wasn’t already,” his tongues sweeps over his bottom lip, “I am now.” He has a certain twinkle in his eye and seems excited, too.

I bounce into the car, and he grabs my hand. I lean over to kiss him and his eyes flick to the rearview mirror. I sit back in my seat, instantly reminded that we’re not alone.

He pulls back out into the traffic, and then picks up my hand to kiss my fingertips. “It’s good to see you.”

“You, too.” I smile.

I see another two cars pull out behind us, but I push it to the back of my mind as I pretend not to notice. My stomach is dancing, alive with nerves. For the first time since we’ve been together, I actually have hope. Maybe this can be something more?

I didn’t imagine it when we were in Rome. He did feel it too, and I don’t feel near so foolish now. Maybe I’m being presumptuous. I don’t know, but this feels real.

We drive along with my eyes flicking between Rico and the road. He has this smirk on his face, like the guy that got the girl.

“What are you smirking at?”

“Just you.”

“Why?” I smile broadly.

“Are you packed?” he asks as he pulls into my hotel and parks the car.

“Yes, where are we going?”

He turns the car off. “Monte Carlo.”

My eyes widen. “In Monaco?”

“I have a yacht down there.”

“You have a yacht?” I squeak, wide-eyed.

He chuckles, gets out of the car, and comes around to open my door. He takes my hand and helps me from the car. “Yes, I have a yacht.”

“Of course, you do.” We begin to walk into my building. “You have all the toys.”

We get into the lift and he stares straight ahead, while I stare up at him.

Touch me, damn it.

I’m really beginning to hate this no touching in public rule. I want him draped all over me like a scarf. We arrive at my room, and as I unlock the door, his hand takes my hip from behind.

There it is. Touch.

It’s not sexual, not sleazy, but somehow it sends tingles all the way down to my toes. Maybe that’s because I know it’s a prelude of what’s to come. The door opens, and his hand comes from behind me. He pushes it open with force, unable to wait a second longer.

Then he’s on me. His hands are in my hair and he’s kissing me like his life depends on it. I smile against his lips.

“That’s more like it,” I whisper. “Took your time.”

For ten minutes, we kiss, and then he takes me into his big, strong arms and holds me tight. We stand cheek-to-cheek for a long time just enjoying holding each other. I’ve missed him.

His lips take mine, slow and deliberate, and I find myself clinging to him as he leads me into temptation.

“Let’s take a shower,” I suggest.

“We can’t, our plane leaves at five. We have to get to the airport.”

“What?” Damn it, I want to have I missed you sex.

“We can relax once we get there.” He kisses me again. “I promise.”

“Fine.” I step back from him and begin to gather my things. Did I pack right for Monte Carlo? What even happens in Monte Carlo? I definitely don’t have any Princess Grace wear in my suitcase.

“Do you wear that dress to work often?” he asks as his eyes skim my body.

I look down at myself. I’m wearing a tight black, woolen turtleneck dress. It has long sleeves and a lower neckline. “Yeah, why?”

His brows crease. “Please don’t.”

“Why not?’

“Because it shows your every curve.”

“And?”

“And I want to be the only one seeing those.” He steps forward and takes me into his arms again. “Your body is for my eyes only.”

“Is that so?” I smile up at him.

“That’s so.”

I love that my body is for his eyes only…this is going very well indeed. “You know, you can’t tell me what to do,” I tease.

He gives me a slow, sexy smile. “Would you like to place a bet on that?” He pumps me with his hips.

I giggle. “I would, actually. I’m in the betting mood. Isn’t that what they do in Monte Carlo?” I bat my lashes.

He chuckles and turns me away from him, and he playfully slaps my behind. “Get your things. We need to go.”

“Stop rushing me. I want to stay here and be naked and playful.”



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