Chapter 15 #2
The moment he opens the door for me, I say “Grazie”[XLI] before stepping inside, and that earns me that smile of his.
I asked him last night, over dinner, to start speaking more Italian with me.
I’ve been practicing here and there, trying to grasp at least the basics before meeting his family.
Alexander says most of them speak English, even some of his younger nephews and nieces, who’ve been learning it from a very early age.
But I believe that when you visit a new country, the least you can do is try. To listen, learn, and meet a place halfway, instead of leaning on the comfort of English just because you can.
The drive to the pub is short, and we spend it practicing a few phrases he taught me earlier.
I’m painfully aware that I’m totally butchering his native language, but he’s too kind to say it outright.
He just offers a gentle correction, smiling as if every mistake is something sweet I’ve given him rather than something that needs fixing.
Alexander pulls up in front of the pub, and the moment he helps me out of the Jeep, we hear the cheerful buzz of voices carrying out into the street.
When we step inside, I can’t help but notice every little detail. The old stone walls, scarred tables, a floor worn smooth by centuries of footsteps. It’s a well-kept place that proudly shows the story it carries.
I feel Alexander stop beside me, like he’s taking it all in the same way I am.
Once we’re seated, I realize that from our table we can see the skittles alley glowing in the background, a scene so old it feels borrowed from another century.
We both order from the waiter’s recommendations. British steak and Malbec pie for Alexander. Freshly battered, line-caught haddock and chips for me.
But it’s hard to focus on the food when everything about this place, from the timbered walls to the amber light, makes me wonder how many lives have unfolded in this room over the centuries. And now... ours is one of them.
Alexander chuckles when he catches me staring.
“You look completely taken by this place.”
“I kind of am,” I admit, smiling as I cut into my fish again. “It’s surreal. I can’t stop thinking about all the stories these walls could tell. It feels like I’ve stepped into one of those historical novels I used to devour years ago.”
He sets his fork aside and rests his hand over mine. “I imagine this place alone deserves a full post on your blog.”
I grin at him, and we spend the rest of dinner wrapped in easy conversation, losing track of the hour completely.
For dessert, we share the Yin & Yang: a white chocolate mousse laced with limoncello, dark chocolate folded into it, the flavors melting together in perfect harmony. One spoonful in, and I already regret not getting my own. But I let him steal the last bite anyway.
We leave the restaurant not long after, laughing, and make the short drive to Regent Road. We park along a well-lit street.
Before I step out of the car, Alexander shrugs out of his jacket and drapes it over my shoulders. “The wind will be colder up there,” he murmurs.
I smile and slip into it, feeling embraced by his scent.
After a short walk, we reach Calton Hill. We pass the Dugald Stewart Monument first, and I tell Alexander everything I learned on my first visit here, that early morning when the Edinburgh sky was just beginning to pale.
He listens intently, his eyes more on me than on the monument.
When we start walking again, his hand finds mine and with it, that rush his touch always brings to my skin.
We reach the top, and Alexander helps me up the final steps of the National Monument. The view from here is... indescribable. Edinburgh at night, every street glowing, the windows looking like small constellations of their own.
“All those reviews saying this is one of the most beautiful night views in the city weren’t exaggerating,” I murmur in awe.
“It might be one of the most beautiful things I’ve ever seen,” Alexander replies, his voice low and hoarse, not just reaching my ears, but sinking somewhere deeper.
I turn toward him... And realize he isn’t looking at the city at all.
He’s looking at me.
“Alexander...”
He lifts a hand and gently tucks my hair behind my ear, the breeze at the top of the hill leaving loose strands behind.
“Sei bellissima... meravigliosa, divina. Everywhere,” [XLII]he murmurs. “But here, with the city behind you, the stars above you, that look on your face... I think this is the most beautiful I’ve ever seen you since the day I met you.”
I swallow hard, my heartbeat climbing into my throat.
I take a small step toward him, and he doesn’t hesitate. His other hand comes to the small of my back, bringing our bodies closer.
I catch the glint in his amber eyes, turned molten in this light, and I’m caught in them. Unable and unwilling to look away. I let him see in my eyes what my mouth doesn’t dare to say.
And when he understands...
Under the stars, with all of Edinburgh glowing beneath us, Alexander kisses me.
And it’s as if the world stops turning.
At first, his mouth touches mine carefully, as though he’s testing whether this is real. Then our lips meet again, and I part mine without thinking, letting him in. The moment our tongues touch, something inside him gives.
The kiss deepens, becomes more demanding.
Alexander breathes as if he’s been holding his breath his whole life, only remembering how to breathe now that our lips have finally met. When he pulls me impossibly closer, my body fits against his without resistance, like it was made for this exact shape.
The hand that cups my cheek slides lower, his fingers settling at my nape, his thumb brushing the sensitive skin at my throat... a touch that sends my stomach dropping somewhere near my feet.
I let out a small gasp into his mouth. And that tiny sound is what undoes him. I feel it as he guides me back, until my spine meets one of the pillars. The chill of ancient stone on my thighs clashes with the fevered heat of his body pressed into mine.
Alexander breaks the kiss for only a beat, our foreheads touching, our breaths tangled.
His eyes... Dark. Burning on mine. It all feels too much for me to endure intact.
“Cecilia...” he murmurs, a warning and a confession in the same breath.
I don’t have time to answer. He kisses me again.
This time, without restraint. His mouth claims mine with a hunger he can no longer hide. He holds me to the stone, and I can feel him, all of him, his hand tightening at my waist, pulling me closer.
My heart races, and my hand on his chest finds the frantic beat beneath my palm, the heat bleeding through his shirt. I lift my other hand, threading my fingers into his dark hair.
He smiles and bites my lower lip when I pull him by the collar, as if it confirms everything he already knows.
Edinburgh continues to glow below us. But to me… it disappears. There’s nothing in this moment besides the heat of his mouth, how he brushes his nose along mine, and the weight of his body holding me up. Shivers run through me at the faint scrape of his beard on my skin.
He captures my mouth again and deepens the kiss one last time, before he eases back... Brushing his lips over mine with something close to reverence.
Before either of us can say a word, laughter drifts up the hill, and we turn to see a group of young people making their way toward us.
“We should go,” Alexander says, and I can hear the reluctance in his hoarse tone. “We’re leaving early tomorrow.”
I nod, my hand tight in the fabric of his shirt.
He leans in once more. Nuzzles his face into my hair, breathing me in. Presses a kiss to my forehead... then the tip of my nose. He hesitates for a heartbeat before brushing one last kiss over my lips.
Then, with his fingers laced through mine, he leads me down the hill.
His firm grip on my hand keeps me upright... even as my mind spins, and my entire body is still tingling long after a single kiss.
Alexander
I left Cecilia at her inn and came straight back to mine.
My skin hasn’t stopped buzzing. I keep feeling her lips on mine, the sounds she made replaying in my mind. And I only kissed her.
Who am I trying to fool?
It wasn’t just a kiss. It was the kind of kiss that once sent men to war. That made them lose their minds... and their fortunes. It can never be just a kiss when you’re ready to let it ruin you.
She surrendered completely. Melted into my arms, molding to me like second nature.
“Cazzo.”
I run a hand through my hair and move to the window. I just hope I didn’t push too much, too fast. I saw it in her eyes... she wanted me just as much.
But I went from a kiss to pinning her to a historic monument in the span of a heartbeat. All my control evaporated the second I had her body pressed to mine, her scent wrapping around me...
I curse that group of friends who interrupted us... and then realize I should be grateful. Because if they hadn’t shown up, public indecency would’ve been the least of my sins.
Taking a breath, I force myself to focus on tomorrow. Everything is already arranged. The company jet, a Gulfstream G700, will be ready for takeoff at eight in the morning. In less than three hours, we’ll be landing at Galileo Galilei Airport.
This should calm my thoughts, but a single question keeps circling my mind. Will Cecilia take a step back after what happened tonight, or did that kiss pull her one step closer to me?
Either way... I’ll let her set the pace. I won’t pressure her. But I also won’t pretend I don’t want more.
“You’re going to drive me insane, Cecilia,” I murmur to the moon outside my window.
“Cecilia... we’re flying over Tuscany.”
She looks up from the laptop she’s been working on since shortly after takeoff, drafting a new post for her blog.
I tried to work too. But my eyes keep wandering back to her. To the way she narrows her eyes in concentration, bites her lip, presses her thumb briefly to her teeth when she pauses to reread what she’s written.