Wish You Weren't Here

Chapter 42

James

I take a step toward her and force myself to freeze. She watches, shoulders pulled back, chin up, waiting for me to do what I know she wants me to do—to kiss her, to pin her against the arm of that settee, to touch her until she comes apart beneath me. But I know if we start this, there will be no end to it. We’ll never get to San Marco’s for dessert or to the dinner I have planned along the canal. Never browse the shelves of the bookshop around the corner or see the locals sitting on their blankets with lanterns while listening to the violinists in Piazza San Regio. I’m willing to forgo all of it for her, but I’ve seen it. Heard it. Tasted it.

Ava lifts a brow and tilts her head.

“If we start this, Ava, we aren’t leaving here tonight,” I say, my voice a bit strangled and this obviously brings her joy.

A slow smile spreads across her face and she takes the final step between us.

“I’m okay with that,” she whispers, tracing a finger along the collar of my shirt.

“You’re okay with spending your first night in Venice locked in a bedroom with me?”

She nods, swallowing hard as she unfastens the first button of my shirt.

“I’m okay with spending every night in Venice locked in a bedroom with you,” she says, taking her time with each button while staring up at me. She looks wild. Hair windswept from the boat, skin flushed from the spray, or maybe from this pleasantly unbearable warmth pressing in on us. I let her finish what she’s doing, my fingers itching to touch her as she pushes my shirt off my shoulders.

She lifts the soft cotton of my undershirt and puts both hands beneath it, splaying her fingers over my abdomen. Her breathing is shallow now, her chest rising and falling, brushing against me every time she breathes in. I shut my eyes and focus on the way her fingers burn against my skin.

“James?”

“Hmmm?”

When she doesn’t answer right away, I open my eyes to find her staring up at me, her lip pulled between her teeth and two little lines between her brows.

I run my thumb below her bottom lip until she lets it go.

“What are you thinking, dolcezza?” I ask, leaning down and pressing a kiss on the top of her head.

“I’m thinking that I want you so badly it hurts.”

Her words tighten every muscle in my body, and I wrap my arms around her back and pull her closer to let her know that I feel the same way. I’ve wanted her from the moment I saw her and every impossible moment after that.

She leans the side of her face against my chest and continues. “But I’m also thinking that once I have you it’s going to hurt even more—to leave.”

I squeeze her tighter against me. She’s right, of course. Being with her will just make it harder to say goodbye. But there’s not a single cell in my body that can resist her if she’ll have me.

“Let me show you Venice,” I say down into her hair.

She nods against my chest and says, “Is there going to be an art lecture?”

I squeeze her more tightly. “Undoubtedly.”

She laughs, the vibration of it sending warmth through me.

“And you promise we can do that locked in a bedroom thing later?”

“Ava, when we get back here, we aren’t making it to the bedroom before I do the things I want to do to you.”

She leans back and looks up at me, eyes wide and cheeks flushed.

“Let’s get out of here before I physically can’t,” I say. She swallows hard, then nods.

I grab her hand and pull her toward the door before I change my mind and do what we both really want.