Chapter 7
Istood in front of the full-length mirror in my bedroom, evaluating my look. I chose a short, fitted, black dress with long sleeves and a plunging neckline. My hemline hit right above my thigh-high, red suede boots. I added a thick gold chain that accentuated my cleavage.
This was the shortest, tightest, and most expensive dress I owned, and the boots were outrageously sexy. I’d purchased the whole outfit with Leo and David in Florence.
They’d insisted I buy everything including the accessories. I’d stood brave, spinning on a pedestal surrounded by mirrors, while Leo and David toasted me with complimentary champagne.
I had showered and blew my wavy dark hair straight, deciding to wear it loose and long. I checked my make-up again. I put on smoky eyeliner and added a soft gold shadow above my brown eyes, and of course, I needed red lipstick. I painted on that final touch, smacking my lips.
As I crossed the square, a horrible thought crossed my mind. What if James stood me up?
I stopped walking, my heart pounding in my chest. I took a slow breath to recapture my confidence. I needed to remember who I was. Isabella Carmen Uzano did not need this man.
I’d found pleasure in his arms, and if I did again, so be it. And if not? Well, I would treat myself to a glass of champagne at Andiamo and go home.
Stars sparkled overhead in the dark sky. The moon hid behind a bank of clouds, bathing the campo in hazy blue light. The chill in the air was biting, but my wrap kept me warm as I searched the square for James. He wasn’t there.
I stopped by the fountain, wrapping my merino wool shawl tight around my body. Was this really happening? Had that arrogant man actually stood me up?
I saw him. Outside the Mia Sorella, in the outdoor seating for Andiamo, James sat at a table, scrolling through his phone. He looked unflustered and totally in control. Tall heat lamps with columns of flame flanked him on both sides, bathed his gorgeous face in a flickering, golden light.
He stood as I approached. His dark hair falling across his forehead, he watched me with an intensity that made me conscious of my every step. My stomach fluttered as I approached the table. Was there no middle ground? I was either an empowered sex goddess or a bumbling teenager.
“Good evening,” I said.
“I hope outside is all right,” he said, standing. “It was crowded inside and this is more private.” He nodded toward the empty tables around us.
“It’s fine,” I said. “The heat lamps will keep us warm.”
His eyes boring into me, I could not pinpoint his expression. I was looking at the man I had made love to the night before, but he was somewhere else.
“I convinced my father to order these lamps,” I said, unable to stop my nervous chatter. “I had two installed so he could sit and feel the heat himself. It’s transformed this space. You should be warned, though, my father does not like change.”
“I am sure he doesn’t.” James moved around the table and held out my chair as I took a seat.
“Thank you for joining me,” he said, sitting across from me. “It was important to me that we talk.” He wore a black suit jacket and shirt under a long, camel hair, winter coat.
“Look,” I said, leaning across the table. “Let me recap. You are in business with my father. That is business. As for the personal, we had one night together. That was all I was looking for and I got exactly what I needed from you.”
He choked on his water. “Excuse me.” He held his finger in the air and covered his mouth with a napkin until his coughing subsided.
A waiter approached the table. “Good evening. Would the lady like a beverage?” He looked at me without recognition, which was a relief. We added a handful of new servers for Carnival. For once, I was anonymous.
“I’d like an Aperol spritz,” I said, ready to feel those delicious orange bubbles going down my throat, wishing I’d already had two.
“We’ll also take a bottle of the Dom Perignon,” James said, picking one from the list.
“Three glasses?” the waiter asked.
“Please.”
The waiter cleared one place setting, leaving three champagne glasses on the table.
“Is someone joining us?” I said.
“Yes.” James nodded over my shoulder. “And, of course, he is late.”
“Who is late?” I spun around in my chair to see a man crossing the piazza. He looked just like James, but was wearing a long, light grey, winter coat.
Mouth gaping, my stomach twisted into knots of confusion. “What the fuck is going on?” I said, head spinning between James at the table and this doppelg?nger.
“I believe you know him,” James said, his lips in a tight line. He actually picked up his phone and appeared to be distracted by a text. “That is my brother, Dylan.”
I spun around in my seat, soaking in the frame, the face, the body of this man named Dylan as he strode across the piazza. His eyes caught mine and he smiled.
There was a spark of recognition. He knew me. This man knew me. Suddenly, it all made sense, the awkward morning, the stilted tone in James’s voice. I had known him and not known him.
“Hello, brother,” James said, as his double approached our table. “I believe you two have met before.”
“Yes, good evening, my clever Bella,” Dylan said, a smile creeping across his face. He sat down next to James.
My breath caught in my throat. Dylan’s playful and wicked smile was just as I remembered. His arrogant and edgy sexuality was as hard hitting as the crash of our bodies colliding in the street. Damn. Within ten seconds, this man had me undone, again.
My eyes darted between the brothers. “What the fuck is this?”
“Give her a moment,” James said, glancing up from his phone, unsmiling. He looked irritated. And his brother? Well, they both shared an alpha arrogance, but Dylan had a smile that suggested he was quite pleased with himself.
“Talk,” I said, fixing my gaze on Dylan. “What is going on here?”
Dylan shrugged. “Per usual, I have been a very naughty boy.”
Naughty boy. Lord, help me, just hearing those words made me think of his body hovering above mine and his hard dick sliding deep into my wet pussy. How was I going to get through this conversation without melting into a puddle?
James sighed and looked up from his phone. “Isabella, my brother would like to apologize to you. Can you please do a proper apology to this lovely woman, Dylan?”
Had James, the real James, just called me lovely?
“Of course,” Dylan said. “I am sorry for the confusion our evening caused you.
The waiter returned to the table with a bottle of Dom in a bucket and my Aperol Spritz. I took the orange cocktail from his hand and drained it while he popped the champagne and filled all of our glasses.
“So, you two are twins,” I said, setting my empty spritz glass on the table.
“You got it,” Dylan said, touching his nose.
“I’m older by six minutes,” James said, looking up from his phone. “In case you were wondering.”
“I wasn’t. And last night,” I chose my words carefully. “I went back to the Mia Sorella with you for a one-night-stand.”
I held my finger in the air, moving it between their identical faces, stopping on Dylan’s. “It was you,” I said, “not you.” I pointed at James.
“Indeed,” James said. “Last night, I was working while my little brother here was roaming the streets of Venice, looking for a midnight espresso.”
“I couldn’t sleep,” Dylan said. “I didn’t lie about that, Bella. I expected to find coffee last night, but I didn’t expect to find you.” He took a sip of his champagne, that sexy know-it-all smile still on his face.
You lied to me last night.” Lowering my voice to a whisper, I leaned across the table. “Why did you do that? Why did you say you were James? What is wrong with you?”
“So many questions and so many things are wrong with me,” Dylan said, sipping his champagne. “How much time do you have?”
“She’s got you there, brother,” James said.
“Let’s not forget that you kept a few secrets from me, as well, clever Bella,” Dylan said. He held his champagne glass up to the light and swirled it, the pale gold liquid sloshing in circles.
“I should have told you my family owned the Mia Sorella,” I said, wanting to get ahead of him.
“Yes, you should have,” Dylan said. “If I had known that you were Bella Uzano, I would never have taken you back to my bed.”
Every hair on my body, every inch of me stood at attention.
“I would have taken you somewhere else.” He winked.
“Seriously?” James sighed.
“No, I would not have taken you back to my room,” Dylan said, his voice lowering. “I may not be the upstanding citizen that my older brother is, but even I know that sleeping with you was a bit messy.”
“It was,” I said. “I have half a mind to tell my father about all of this.”
I was bluffing. No way was I going to run to my father like a child. Besides, I hardly thought he’d be thrilled that I’d slept with one of our future business partners.
“We are in business already,” James said.
“Not yet,” I reminded him. “I dissented.”
Dylan’s eyes went wide.
“Oh, didn’t he tell you? I dissented, which means the Board must wait five days, and there will be a second vote.”
“Which will be approved,” James said. “All your little stunt did was delay the inevitable.”
“There is no need to escalate this, Bella,” Dylan said, his sly smile telling me he knew I was bluffing. “We were both consenting and very satisfied adults.”
James appeared nonplussed as he took a big sip of his champagne. I wondered how many other tricky situations his devilish brother had gotten him into.
“I still deserve answers,” I said.
“Agreed,” Dylan said. “Ask me questions.”
“Why did you do it?”
“Okay, why did I do it? Let me break this down. I slept with you because you are gorgeous, your curves are magnificent, you are hot as fuck, and goddamn if it wasn’t some of the best sex I have ever had.”
The best sex he had ever had. How was that possible? He looked and fucked like a man who had a lot of good sex. James raised his eyebrows, his focus still on his cell phone.
“Oh, my God.” My internal temperature skyrocketed. This was a flattering, but embarrassing, discussion.
“You asked,” Dylan said, shrugging. “What else?”
“Why did you lie?”
“Easy. I said I was James, because I do that sometimes. It’s a twin thing. We got into the habit of switching names in university.”
“I got into the habit?” James glanced up.
“And it just came out and it was too late,” Dylan continued. “And I was just as surprised as you to learn that your family is the reason we are here.”
James sighed. “For fuck’s sake, Dylan. If you had read the brief, you would have recognized Isabella last night.”
“Recognized me?” I said, swallowing.
“We do due diligence on all of our acquisitions, which includes reviewing key executives, including family members,” James said. “My dear brother had a brief, which he ignored. If he had done as I asked, he would have seen the photos of your family.”
“Who are you people?” I said, looking between these two gorgeous men.
“We are Street Entertainment,” Dylan said. “And I read the brief this morning, which is when I realized our rendezvous has added some complexity to this trip.”
“Complexity,” James repeated. “I would call it a fuck-up, not a complexity.”
“We all know that Acquisitions are your side of the business, brother. I am in Creative Development,” Dylan added, as if that explained everything.
“Creative Development,” I repeated. “What does that even mean?”
“I know, right?” Dylan said. “It’s terribly vague.”
James jumped in. “Street Industries has three divisions. Hospitality, which I run and largely consists of Acquisitions. Creative Development covers our music catalog, artists, and creatives.
That is Dylan’s expertise, and Investments is run by our older brother, Damian,” he paused, “who is not here. And who is not a triplet in case, you were wondering.”
“That was long-winded,” Dylan said, leaning his head back with an exaggerated stretch. “I like to say that James is the real estate man, I do music, and Damien is all about the money.”
“If this isn’t your thing, why are you here?” I said to Dylan. “You know, it’s bad enough that my father is selling out to you people. Now you’ve made it completely weird.”
James shook his head and gave what I considered his first genuine smile of the evening. “She’s not wrong, brother, you’ve made it weird.”
Dylan leaned across the table. “I came on this trip for Carnival. Truth be told, this was a rather spontaneous trip. I wasn’t supposed to be here at all.”
“That is completely true,” James said.
“Well, isn’t that nice for you.” I drained my glass. Without missing a beat, Dylan refilled it.
“So,” I said, “you are on vacation? You didn’t lie about that?”
“No, not exactly,” Dylan said. “It’s vacation, with a little work.”
“Do you know how to give a straight answer?” I asked. “One of you is here to take over my family’s livelihood, and one of you is here to vacation, do some work, fuck local girls at Carnival? What am I missing?”
I looked between them, my mind still reeling at their identical gorgeousness. I focused on Dylan and tried to remember that I would be better off staying angry at him. Staying angry meant I might manage to keep my panties on.
Our table quieted as the waiter approached and topped off our champagne, emptying the bottle. “Would you like to order dinner?”
“We will keep the menus, and I’ll have a whiskey, neat,” Dylan said. “Give us a few minutes.”
The waited nodded and retreated to the restaurant.
“What am I missing?” I repeated.
James shook his head as if exasperated, glanced at Dylan, and rolled his eyes. There was some sort of sub-conversation going on, and I was missing all of it.
“It isn’t often that I meet someone like you,” Dylan said.
“Someone like me? Gullible? Someone you can trick?”
“No, someone who doesn’t know exactly who I am,” Dylan said. “Someone who doesn’t already know who we both are.”
My gaze bounced between the brothers, but landed squarely on Dylan. His wicked smile attracted me like a magnet. “It’s like I have double vision, looking at the two of you. It’s very distracting.”
“You want distraction,” James said, taking a sip of his champagne. “Try having your twin brother a bit slow on the details. My God, the way the two of you are flirting. You should just knock the dishes right onto the floor and fuck each other right here on the table.”
His comment sucked the air out of my lungs. Dylan kept his eyes locked on me.
“And that is my queue to depart.” James placed two hands on the table and stood. “Good night, Isabella. My goal was to make you understand that it wasn’t me in your bed last night. I am all business this trip.”
“He isn’t joking about that,” Dylan said. “He is a man driven by the numbers, believe me.”
James shot Dylan a look that telegraphed something undecipherable. Was that a warning? Or just another glance of exasperation? What was it with these brothers? Clearly, they were close, but an undeniable thread of tension rippled between them.
“Isabella, I understand why you were so shocked to see me in the boardroom,” James said. “My brother has apologized to you, but I must apologize, as well. I’m sorry for the shock, and I’m also sorry your father did not approve your expansion.
“Thank you,” I said.
“Your caramels are delicious,” James said. “And it’s a good name. Bella Baci. I like it. And with that, I will leave you two to talk. Good evening, Isabella, it was lovely meeting you.” James walked away from the table without looking back.
“Well, here we are,” Dylan said.
“Yes, here we are,” I said, wondering why I was so angry. Was I angry I’d had sex? No. I was angry that the Street family was getting into my family’s business. I was angry that my father and ex-fiancé had squashed my request to invest in Bella Baci for Carnival.
Was I angry that I couldn’t stop thinking about Dylan’s naked body. Abso-fucking-lutely Yes. There I was again, right back between those sheets. His eyes dark with desire, locked on mine.
My legs spread, my pussy glistening. I wanted him to take me right then, my traitorous body grew wetter by the moment.
“I should have told me my real name,” Dylan said. He was taking a moment to go down memory lane himself. “You were, you are, a breath of fresh air. And when I realized what I’d done this morning with my school boy antics, it was too late to fix it.”
“I see,” I said. He was working a lot of compliments into this apology, and I hated to admit it, they were working, every single one of them.
“But what did it matter?” I asked. “We agreed to a one-night stand. You left before I woke. First names only, remember?”
“I know,” Dylan said, taking a slow sip of his whiskey. He ran his tongue over his top lip and I swear I could feel him between my legs. “I remember the rules, and I remember watching you sleep and thinking that one night was not enough. I wanted more”
My fingers wrapped around the stem of my champagne glass. I couldn’t move. More. He wanted more.
“I see,” I said again, betraying nothing.
“Can you forgive me?” he said, his smile devilish and delicious.
Forgive him? Truth be told, I could give a shit about forgiveness. I wanted to fuck him until we both forgot our names, again. The swirl of emotion in my body was almost as wild as the orgasms he’d given me.
Confirmation that he wanted to bend the rules, too, changed everything. We had connected physically and on another level. I felt stupid thinking the connection was spiritual, but he’d touched me body and soul.
“It’s not easy to stop thinking about making love to a woman like you,” Dylan said.
Making love. Those words coming out of his mouth sounded sweet and so dirty. I wanted to take his mouth and push his full lips up against my pussy.
Dylan continued, his voice low, his dark eyes fixed on mine. He made me feel completely seen.
“I am the bad brother. The Fuck-Up. The one who makes messes and breaks things. James is always good, always on the straight and narrow. I am driven by an unrelenting need to be the center of attention.
“I’m obnoxious. I hate being alone, but I hate being around people. It’s a problem. I am fascinated that I don’t hate being around you.”
I said nothing. It was clear that Dylan was a magnet of some sort, charming, captivating, and apparently, self-aware.
“Okay, you want me to trust you?” I said.
“Yeah, I do.”
“Then you tell me the truth.”
The waiter brought him his whiskey neat. Dylan took a sip and looked me straight in the eyes. “All right.”
“Truth,” I said. “Why are you here in Venice?”
“I’m here to forget something sad, and to remember who I really am.”
“Wow,” I said, eyes widening.
“You asked for the truth and the truth you will get.”
“All right,” I said. The flickering lights from the heat lamp painted us both with a warm gold. The champagne coursing through my veins felt like bravery. “Who are you really?” I asked. “No more lies.”
“No more lies.” Dylan held his drink in his hand, staring at it instead of me. “I have lied to women before.”
“I bet you have.”
“And I’m not going to lie to you,” he said, his dark eyes flashing. “I don’t think I can.” He seemed surprised and amused by this statement.
“Good.”
“Do you know music?”
“Kind of.”
“I used to be in music.”
“Like, in a band?”
“I was a musician,” he said.
This was not what I was expecting. I wasn’t sure if it was the absurdity of the situation or the champagne courage powering my veins. I leaned forward, my hands inching dangerously close to Dylan’s arm.
“Wait, so are you secretly a famous musician? Like, were you in a boy band? Let me guess. You were the sensitive one.”
“Not a boy band,” Dylan said. “I stopped playing professionally a few years ago.”
“But I’ve never heard of Dylan Street,” I said. “I’m not trying to be rude.”
“That is because nobody cares about him,” Dylan said. “I play as Strand.”
Holy shit. My jaw dropped open. Growing up in Venice, I was sheltered and raised on tales of Don Juan, poets and romantics who wandered our piazzas, lovers who danced in a pink haze of champagne through the square.
Even I knew you had to be living under a rock to not know of the mysterious guitarist and vocalist Strand. I knew his name, but I couldn’t tell you what he looked like. Strand played wearing a mask.
“You are joking,” I said.
“Not joking,” Dylan said. “I promised you truth. I am here for vacation and some work.”
“You’re playing music here?”
“No, I have been invited to play. I still get invitations to play, but I can’t do it. So, I don’t.”
I studied Dylan’s face in the candlelight. His head was tipped to the side with his ever-present sly smile. Was it possible this beautiful man hid his gorgeousness under a mask.
“Why the mask?”
“I’m shy,” he said, his voice teasing.
“Don’t take this the wrong way, but I don’t know your music very well.”
“You must remember my last album, Love Inside?”
“Nope,” I said. “Never heard of it. Truth.”
“That’s fair.” He smiled at me. “So, there it is. You know who I am.”
“You are a billionaire with a superstar secret life,” I said. “This is not what I was expecting.”
“Understood.”
“Why did you tell me the truth?”
“I don’t know,” he said, eyes narrowing. “You asked me not to lie. Strand is retired, so it doesn’t matter anymore. And somehow, I know you won’t tell a soul.”
“I won’t,” I said.
“I know,” he said, his dark eyes always watching me. “I find the straight and narrow constraining, Bella. Life is much too interesting to never break the rules.
“Look, I’m not trying to be a dick about it. It’s just James has always done everything right. It works for him. We are identical twins, but I have different ideas about what makes me happy.”
“Like being a musician.”
“Being a musician made me happy for a long while, and then it didn’t. And here I am wondering what this feeling is when I look across the table at you.”
My lips parted. I inhaled as a tingling feeling blossomed between my legs. “Do you feel happy?”
“I’m not sure,” he said. “I feel something good. I just shared one of my biggest secrets with you, so obviously, you are a witch.”
I laughed. “Obviously.”
“And I’m rock hard right now.”
“You’re what?” I swallowed, unable to mask my shock and delight at his confession.
“Don’t pretend you didn’t hear me, clever Bella. My dick is throbbing for you.”
“You are a naughty boy,” I said, tipsy from champagne, bold from desire.
“The only thing I lied about last night was my name. Every moment I held your gorgeous body in my arms was real.”
I let his words sink in mesmerized by his gaze. Flames danced in the heat lamps beside us. My heart surged at the sparking chemistry between us.
“Last night with you was amazing You showed up like a sparkling goddess in the moonlight and took my hand. I had no choice, but to follow you. Sometimes you have to read the signs,” Dylan said.
This was exactly the kind of thing that Auntie Aurora would tell me.
“What signs do you believe in?” I said, reaching for my glass. It was almost empty, and again, Dylan topped it off without hesitation.
“Last night, I stopped at that corner when the moonlight hit the window of the jewelry store just so. All the pieces inside sparkled, even behind the safety glass,” Dylan said.
“You think the moon stopped you.”
“Well, yes,” he said, “and when you turned the corner, I was in darkness and you were bathed in blue light. You looked like a goddess. You didn’t see me and I was too besotted by you to move. It was my fault you crashed into me.”
“We both ran into each other,” I said. “It did not happen in slow motion, and did you just say besotted?”
“Meeting you inspired my vocabulary,” he winked, “and made me feel something, something different. It’s been a long while since I’ve been with a woman who knows what she wants. I think you may be magic, Bella.”
How could he possibly see me that way, when I was so lost. “I was lonely, and I wanted sex.”
“And sex you got,” he said.
“You know this is madness,” I said.
“It’s absurd. I am a famous musician, whom you barely know.”
“And my family owns a hotel that your family is about to add to their portfolio.”
“And we had sex in the Lover’s Suite in that same hotel.” He laughed. “I am so glad I met you, Clever Bella.”
“So here we are,” I said.
“Yes, here we are, in the magic of Venice.”
“To the magic,” I said, raising my glass. “Can we please order food. If I don’t eat something, I am going to be sick from cocktails and champagne.”
“You do know that if we have dinner together, we are breaking the rules, officially,” he said. “It’s no longer a one-night-stand.”
“I’ve spent years following the rules,” I said. “I’d like to break a few more.”
Dylan waved the waiter over. He brought us menus and I found myself ruminating on Dylan’s words. This magnetic man believed in signs. His name began with the letter D, and I met him in the moonlight.
I shivered as My Auntie Aurora’s prediction bubbled up in my memory. The cards said I would fall in love in the moonlight with a man whose name began with the letter D.
I had convinced myself the cards could be wrong, but what happened if the cards were right?