Chapter Three
Emilia
How can someone be so cute and yet so boring?
And the thing is, Richard isn’t even hard to look at.
His sandy hair is neatly combed, and he has pretty blue eyes that no doubt put many patients at ease.
So gentle and calm. They carry none of the storm I see in Antonio’s hazel eyes—eyes that appear to have a warm, honeyed base color with flecks of gold and brown but carry such a fierce coldness in them.
No. No…I’m not going to think about him.
Nope.
I smile at Richard and take him in. He’s got a nice build too, with broad shoulders, but his best feature is his smile.
And he knows it’s his biggest charm as he’s flashed it at least forty times in the fifteen minutes we’ve been seated here waiting for our food.
Or maybe he's just happy to be on a date with me, which would then make me an even bigger jerk than the man I actually want.
Christ, what is wrong with me?
I knew this would happen. That I would look at this man, with his nice build and nice smile and compare him to Antonio Rossi. That man seems to be so imprinted in my brain that I can think of no one but him, even when I’m on a date with someone else.
But hell, Antonio is the furthest thing from cute.
Even lying on that bed, he could easily intimidate everyone with those huge, tattooed muscles and that dangerous look he always wears whenever he's angry. And Christ, he’s so tall and smells so good.
Sometimes, when he’s close, I want to lick him like an ice cream cone and just…
“So, Emilia, how do you find New York compared to California? It must've been hard moving here."
I take a sip of my water to clear my throat the same way I wish I could clear my mind before turning to Richard. “Actually, I was born here.”
His eyes light up with surprise, “Really? One of the nurses told me that you moved to New York a month ago.”
I smile. “Have you been asking about me?”
“Oh, no… I mean—”
I chuckle, putting the poor guy out of his misery.
“I graduated from high school early, started college at Cornell University at sixteen and got my degree in biology before going to med school at twenty.” I spent all summer before medical school trying to get Antonio Rossi to fall in love with me, and when he didn’t, I vowed to leave New York and forget him in California.
“I went to California to attend medical school and stayed there for my first two years of residency.”
“Smart cookie,” he says, flashing me yet another one of his award-winning smiles. “So, why did you come back?”
I wanted to prove to myself that I was over Antonio Rossi, but I failed miserably.
“I was accepted into the surgical residency program at our hospital and took it as a sign to come back home,” I tell him instead.
It’s not a lie. Acceptance into a residency at a major NYC hospital meant I could be closer to my family, and New York’s all I’ve ever known.
It’s home. "How about you? Were you born and raised in New York? "
The server arrives with our food before he can answer, and I smile when I catch the aroma of the creamy pasta, my mouth watering for a taste. He waits until the server has left before turning to me. “I heard this place has the best pasta in the city. Try it and let me know.”
I nod eagerly, grabbing my fork. Suddenly, a shadow falls over us, and I look up, expecting to see the server add one more thing to our table. Instead, I'm met by my brother's intense blue eyes, narrowed on me.
“Luca?” I blink at my twin, dropping the fork and looking around to see if he came here with a date, but it appears he’s alone. “What are you doing here?” And then a thought occurs to me. Did he track me down? Oh God, did something happen to Antonio?
I push back from the table as panic floods my system. “What happened?”
“Emilia, I need you to come home," he says, his voice low but urgent. His eyes flick briefly to Richard before returning to me. “Now.”
“Is it Ant—”
“No, Mama needs you. It's a sensitive matter.”
“I was going to stop by in the morning. Mama said she’d be fine watching him for the night.”
Luca's jaw tightens, and he turns to Richard with a stern look. “This is an urgent family matter, so this date is over.”
I spin around when I hear a chair scrape across the floor and watch with surprise as Richard hurries to his feet, clearly intimidated by my brother.
"Don't go anywhere, Richard," I say, but the man's already sliding into his jacket. "Richard?"
“I…you’re obviously needed elsewhere, Emilia, so…” He flicks his gaze toward my brother, who’s standing there with his arms folded over his chest, impatiently waiting for Richard to leave. “I’ll…uh, see you at the hospital."
I watch, jaw on the floor, as my date practically runs out of the restaurant before turning to my twin, who, for some crazy reason, decided to shoot to the sky during our teen years and outgrew me.
By a lot. No one would think we’re twins.
He's so much taller and bigger than me, a fact he never lets me forget. Now, he’s staring at me, but I refuse to be intimidated by him.
“Figlio di puttana, you had no right!” I hiss, poking my finger at his chest, livid. “How dare you insert yourself like that!”
“He’s weak. No man who leaves a woman in the middle of a date deserves my sister.”
“You freaking asshole, that’s not the point!”
Luca simply raises a single brow, treating me like a child throwing a tantrum. He tosses a couple of bills on the table next to my untouched dinner and clasps my elbow, leading me out of the restaurant. “Let's go home. Antonio was worried sick about you when he heard you couldn't make it tonight."
I stop before cursing my brother out again and turn to him. "Antonio? What does he have to do with this?"
"When Mama told him that you were out on a date, he was worried, as was I, that his shooter could track you. If he's watching the gates, he might’ve seen you leave and followed you.”
Is that what he told Luca? Used my overprotective brother against me? Heck, if Antonio cared that much about my safety, he could have sent a bodyguard for me and not my own brother to scare off my date.
What the hell is Antonio playing at? Can’t he see I’m trying to get over him?
“Emilia—”
“Don’t talk to me,” I snap at Luca, unwilling to admit to myself that my brother only did this because he was worried about me. I can’t think past the anger and hurt.
It’s deafening.
The rage pounding in my head is loud enough that my vision blurs at the edges.
My breath comes in short, ragged gasps, and I feel every muscle in my body tense and coil, ready to punch someone.
I fight to stay calm and don’t utter another word as Luca drives me to the Rossi estate.
He must sense my mood because he remains silent, and I keep a lid on it all until I storm into Antonio’s bedroom half an hour later.
For the first time since seeing Antonio again, I don’t blush and stammer like an idiot. I want nothing more than to stomp on that ridiculously handsome face of his.
“You asshole!”
He’s sitting in a chair by the window, his injured leg propped up on an ottoman, a cane within reach. Since his room faces the driveway, he must've watched me and Luca arrive. Must've known I would eventually find my way into his bedroom. The smug look on his face only fuels my rage.
"You're here," the handsome jerk says, turning to look at me. I hate how my skin burns when those golden hazel eyes rake over me. The little black dress I’m wearing was meant for my date to see and drool over.
It's Richard who was supposed to leave me breathless by running his gaze over me. “You look…different, dottoressa.”
“Oh, do I?” I hiss, storming over to him. “That’s because I was on a freaking date with the hottest radiologist in the entire hospital before you sent my brother to ruin it for me.”
His jaw ticking is the only reaction I get. “Did he?”
“Ruin the date? Oh no. Once I’ve made sure you're not dying like Luca made it seem, then I'm calling Richard to pick me up, and I'll spend the rest of the night rolling around the sheets with—"
He moves fast. For someone with a bad leg wound and a cane, he moves so fast that I barely register it until my back is to the wall and his gorgeous golden eyes are glaring down at me.
He’s so close. Sweet heavens, he’s so close that I can feel the heat from his body, burning into mine and leaving me shaky and my skin sensitive.
So close, I can feel his breath brush against my cheek. “Were you going to let him touch you?”
"What do you care?" I breathe, biting down a whimper when his hand scales up my thigh, and I feel my dress ride up, his touch sending goose bumps darting across my skin.
“Answer me, Emilia.”
“Yes.” No. “After dinner, I was going to ask him to come to my apartment to—”
His mouth slams down on mine, cutting off my words. I place a hand on his chest, intent on shoving him away, but the second I feel the muscles underneath his T-shirt, I melt.
My eyes flutter closed, and I moan into the kiss as I feel his hand circle my waist before I'm yanked flush against him. I whimper when his hard cock pushes against my stomach. Christ, he feels so good pressed up against me. His breath mingles with mine, and I can't resist the urge to touch him.
I…
I shouldn’t do this. I can’t. But my feelings for him haven’t gone away, even after fleeing to California. I can’t keep falling for the same man over and over again. But Christ, I've wanted this—him—for as long as I can remember.
“You’re not going anywhere tonight, mia stellina,” he rasps into the kiss, his breath heavy against mine. His mouth slides along my jaw, his breath so hot against my skin. “No other man gets to touch you.”