Chapter One
CHAPTER ONE
Four years ago, Lake Como
After twelve days of traveling alone, Bree decided it was actually a blessing her mother hadn’t been able to come to Italy with her.
She loved Melissa to the moon and back, but for the first time in her life, she was truly self-reliant. It was an important coming of age she hadn’t realized she needed until she was living it. This wasn’t flying solo to Chicago as a pre-adolescent to visit her father, or the pseudo independence of heading off to college to live in a dorm. It wasn’t playing house with her college boyfriend, Kabir.
This was a far too brief, single-woman-on-a-mission-to-find-herself journey that was reassuring her that she would, in fact, be okay without a man in her life.
Mom had promised she would be. They had survived after Daddy left, hadn’t they?
Bree had been devastated by Kabir’s rejection. She had wanted to crawl into bed and never come out, but her mother had urged her to, “Take a trip anyway. It will be good for you. Haven’t you always wanted to go to Italy?”
The lease was running out on the apartment she had shared with Kabir, so Bree had put her few belongings into storage, closed out the streaming accounts they had shared, and hopped on the plane. After landing in the chaos of Rome, she’d traveled south to Pompeii, then came north to sample wines in Tuscany. She’d spent three days soaking up the art and architecture of Florence, browsed boutiques in Milan, and spent this morning on a six-mile hike along the shore of Lake Como, weaving in and out of quaint villages and sweet-smelling bowers of nature.
Thanks to her mother’s shrewd financial planning, Bree’s student loans were manageable, but she was still desperate to get into the workforce to pay them off, otherwise she might have stayed in Europe all summer. She had planned to follow Kabir wherever he found work, but now she would be on her mother’s pullout as she built her adult life from scratch.
She turned her mind from that daunting prospect and made a beeline toward an outdoor café. Despite the dwindling balance in her savings account, she was treating herself to a late lunch overlooking the vivid blue water, where the fragrance of wisteria wafted from the trellis above. A sprinkling of guests occupied nearby tables, but the midday rush was over. She was given a seat near the rail and asked for a glass of white wine, then removed her sunglasses so she could browse the menu.
When she heard the ma?tre d’ say “Giacomo,” with delighted surprise, she glanced up.
Oh.
She’d seen a lot of good-looking men here in Italy, but this one took her breath with his black, curly hair styled a fraction too long. His complexion was swarthy and he wore a shadow of stubble sculpted to accentuate his lean cheeks and strong jaw. On any other man his striped linen trousers and button-down shirt with rolled sleeves paired with a thin scarf would have appeared to be trying too hard. On him, it was casually elegant. Chic and confident. Worldly.
It didn’t hurt that he was built like a top-class athlete. His shirt sat against the musculature of his chest and shoulders. His trousers strained across his hips before hugging his long, lean thighs in a way that was both flattering and subtly sexual. His hair was wind tousled, his eyes covered by mirrored sunglasses that…
Was he looking at her?
A sting of self-conscious pleasure touched her cheeks. She looked back at the menu, but her ears strained to hear his voice. He and the ma?tre d’ were speaking Italian too quickly for her rudimentary grasp of the language. She couldn’t help smiling faintly at their affection, though. Were they related? From the corner of her eye, she caught the way he angled his head to allow his cheeks to be kissed by the shorter man. Perhaps he wasn’t interested in heterosexual women?
He’s not interested in me. Who would be?
That dark thought was leftover insecurity from Kabir’s callous, You said living together would be convenient and affordable. It was. Now I’m going home.
The memory was sharp enough to leave her chest feeling freshly impaled. Her next few breaths stung. She reminded herself that she was off men and dating. She didn’t care if a stranger looked at her. She wasn’t part of the insta-lust, hookup culture. She’d had one boyfriend. Their relationship had been a slow burn and lasted almost three years. She had expected she would marry him.
She’d been kidding herself, though. Wasting her time. Succumbing to Daddy issues.
Her eyes burned and the menu blurred before her eyes.
She had to stop pining and wallowing in maudlin self-blame, punishing herself for not being able to keep a man. The whole point of this trip was to leave Kabir and all her dreams for their future in Europe so she could go home and start with a blank page.
“The view is better at this table, Alphonso.” The deep voice spoke in affable English with an American accent. A masculine hand descended on the chairback across from her. Mr. Tall, Dark, and Gorgeous waited until she’d lifted her startled gaze to ask her, “Would you like company?”
He did like women. Masculine interest radiated off him so unabashedly, he nearly gave her a sunburn with it.
“You’re American.”
She was more surprised by that than his request to join her. “How did you know that I am?” Was she trying too hard, wearing her new shoes from Milan and her sundress from Rome?
“My sister has a similar handbag.” He nodded at the tote her mother had given her after modeling it in a photo shoot. “They’re made in New York and not well-known enough to have knockoffs yet. May I buy you lunch?”
“Um…” A tingling glow filled her, one her ego drank up like a magic elixir. She was flattered that she’d gained the attention of a man whose magnetism was so tangible. She had been mooning over him. And berating herself for not moving on.
This was a bigger leap than she had had in mind, though. If she wanted to start dating, she ought to cut her teeth on a quiet-spoken claims adjuster from Des Moines, not a man with this much overwhelming confidence. She had the sense she could easily be pulled into his orbit and absorbed like light into a black hole.
She was willing to risk it, though. Because this was the new Bree, a woman who was self-sufficient and autonomous and secure in her worth.
“I can buy my own lunch,” she said as a precaution, so nothing would be misconstrued. “But company would be nice. My friends call me Bree.” She stood to offer her hand across the table.
“Mine call me Jax. Or Giacomo.” He nodded to Alphonso while his hand engulfed hers. He was at least six feet tall with a warm, strong grip and a self-assurance that made her feel special simply because she’d been noticed by him. He pointed at her glass. “The same, Alphonso, per favore .”
“Of course. I’ll tell Chef you’re here. He’ll be pleased.”
“Are you a celebrity?” Bree asked in an undertone as they sat.
“Not at all. Alphonso used to work for me.”
“At home? Or do you live here in Italy?”
“Naples, but my grandparents had a cottage here.” He waved toward the far side of the lake. “It was their first home when they married. My sister bought it from the estate after Nonna passed. The house is doing its best to slide into the water, but she won’t tear it down and rebuild. She wants it saved. She is not here, however.” He made that pronouncement with good-natured, put-upon disgust.
“She’s in New York?” Bree guessed.
“Yes. She enlists me every week or so to come deal with plumbers or painters.”
“Oh, dear.” She was both amused and sympathetic. “Is she your only sibling?”
“We have an older brother and another between us. You?”
“Three stepsiblings from my dad’s second marriage, but I was basically raised an only child by my single mom.” She shrugged, trying not to feel alienated after all this time. “That part of my life is a bit of a hot mess, so I don’t talk about it much.”
“Let’s talk about something else, then. What brings you to Italy?”
“Another hot mess,” she said wryly.
Alphonso arrived with Jax’s wine and an amuse-bouche. He relayed the chef’s suggested menu of three courses. Jax nodded agreement before Bree had finished the mental math on her budget.
When in Rome , she reasoned, and glanced out at the lake.
A soft breeze came off the water and the sound of outboard motors buzzed in the distance. The sun dappled through the greenery above them and music played beneath the lilt of nearby conversation.
It was movie set romantic so naturally she ruined it.
“I’m coming off a breakup,” she confided when they were alone again. “I was living with my boyfriend while we were getting our degrees. I thought he would invite me to go to India with him when we finished, so I could finally meet his family. He said they didn’t know about me.”
Jax’s dark brows shot up.
“He said his parents were looking for a wife for him.” She swallowed the ache in her throat, but it remained like a scuff behind her sternum. “My takeaway was that he would rather spend his life with a stranger than me.” She tried for a light, self-deprecating tone, but she was still deeply hurt.
“You’re nursing a broken heart.” His mouth twisted with rueful dismay.
Which gave her the thorniest pang of yearning and embarrassment.
“I shouldn’t have told you. That’s so cliché, isn’t it? This is my first date since before I met him. Can you tell?” She shook her head at herself.
His phone buzzed and he took it from his pocket to glance at the screen.
And there he went, she thought, expecting him to use the message to make his escape.
He removed his sunglasses as he read, revealing irises that were dark as black coffee. His mouth tightened.
“You don’t have to stay,” she said to forestall his rejection. “I realize you thought this might turn into something else.”
“I came here for a meal, not to prowl.” He turned his phone face down on the table and set his sunglasses beside it, sounding vaguely insulted. “If a vacation fling is your goal, though?” His tone turned intimate and self-deprecating. “I would be happy to oblige.”
Her heart did a somersault and she couldn’t help her smile of amusement.
“How long has it been?” he asked.
“Six—No, seven weeks. But I’ve started to realize he left months ago.”
“No sex?” he guessed.
“That had fallen off, yes,” she admitted, cheeks stinging at how rebuffed she’d felt by his lack of interest.
“Literally?” he drawled.
“Might as well have. I never saw it.”
They both chuckled.
“I blamed exam stress, but—” She sighed. “You know what? I’ll stop talking about him. I’ve been brooding this entire trip. This is my last day before I catch a train tonight and start my journey home. I’m determined to enjoy it.”
“Let me make you this promise, then.” He leaned forward. “I don’t prey on women who are in a vulnerable place. However, I will buy you lunch and compliment you without mercy, so you know exactly how attractive you are. Later, if you decide to exact quiet revenge by enjoying the best sex of your life, I would be very pleased to deliver that. If not, at least you’ll have the satisfaction of having turned me down.”
Bree nearly swallowed her tongue.
Their server arrived to switch out their course.
Jax leaned back and said, “Tell me what you’ve seen while you’ve been here.”
***
He wasn’t kidding. He applied himself to making her feel beautiful and interesting and desirable. It worked.
Bree blossomed under his attention, leaning in and talking animatedly with her hands. When she accidentally brushed her ankle against his shin beneath the table, awareness sparked in her belly and never abated. At one point, he caught her wrist so he could study her bracelet, which was a pretty silver bangle she’d bought in Florence with a matching one for her mother. He caressed her wrist before releasing her, leaving her bloodstream fizzing like champagne.
He asked about her degree, which was in business administration. She told him about her father’s suggestion she work in health care, which had been one of the few times he’d taken a moment to show an interest in her life.
“He’s a heart surgeon so I know how demanding the health care sector is. I’d prefer something with lower stakes that might have opportunities for travel. I’ll see what’s available when I get home.”
“Where’s that?”
“Virginia. Is all your family in New York? Do you get home much?”
“They are, but I prefer Italy.” His tone cooled enough to let her know that’s all he wanted to say about it. “What does your mother do?”
“She’s a model. My father was still in school when I was born. Times were tight so she took any work that was offered. I still sometimes walk into a bank and see my mother’s face on a poster, advertising high-yield savings accounts.”
His mouth tilted, then the heat of admiration filtered into his gaze. “If you look like her, I can imagine she’s in high demand. Your eyes are like this water. Blue? Green? Changeable and enigmatic.”
“A misrepresentation. I’m actually very boring.” She resisted putting her sunglasses back on, feeling naked.
“I disagree.”
She reminded herself he was only doing what he’d said he would do, but she was charmed all the same. He was so ridiculously attractive! Her gaze kept attaching itself to his mouth and watching his expressive hands and staring into his eyes. She wanted to touch his hair and press against his chest and tuck her face into the nook of his throat.
The sexual tension simmered as they chatted through their exquisitely prepared meal, splitting a bottle of wine, then lingering over espresso and sharing a pistachio granita.
As their last dishes were removed, Bree looked for their server. “I was serious about buying my own meal.”
“Don’t insult me. It’s already taken care of.”
“When? It takes more than lunch to seduce me, you know.” It was a lie. She was already looking forward to their goodbye kiss. Already thinking about more.
“I haven’t even started trying to seduce you, bella . You’ll know when I do.” His gaze met hers and sent a hot spear of pure lust into her belly, exploding with heat in her loins. “Where is your luggage?”
“At my pied-à-terre. I booked it before my girlfriend asked me to meet her in Zurich so I—” she cleared her throat “—have it until I leave this evening.”
“I’ll walk you.”
Her knees felt too weak to support her as they left. Alphonso waved them off without presenting a bill, but she had lost interest in that. Her world had become the smooth hand that clasped hers as she led Jax down the hot shadows of the streets between the closely set buildings. Her stomach was full of butterflies, her senses piqued with anticipation.
“I’ve never done this,” she confessed, pressing her shoulder against his so she could keep her voice down. “Brought someone home who I’ve just met.”
“You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to do.” His hand loosened on hers, offering to let her pull away.
“I do want to.” She tightened her grip and drew him up the outer stairs to the tiny, wrought iron porch of the studio flat.
The single room was dim and cool. She’d closed the blinds against the sunshine before leaving this morning, but the spicy fragrance of the nasturtiums in the window box filled the air. There was a double bed, a small table over a red area rug, and a kitchenette with a microwave and a kettle.
“I’m nervous,” she admitted as he closed the door behind them. “I’ve always considered myself a relationship person. It feels strange that this isn’t the start of one. Which I don’t expect,” she hurried to add. “Frankly, I don’t want anything serious. I want rebound sex. I just don’t know how to do it.”
“Allow me to show you.” He drew her toward him and pressed her back to the door.
Her heart spun as she reoriented herself with her naked shoulder blades against cool wood. Her hands reflexively went to his chest as he braced his arm over her head and dipped his mouth toward hers.
Wow. His chest was warm and contoured and solid . Deliciously intriguing.
“This, by the way, is me seducing you,” he teased, and his lips brushed hers.
An electric buzz shot through her system. Her lips parted, but he didn’t accept the invitation. He nuzzled her cheekbone and temple, nibbled the rim of her ear, murmured something in Italian that sounded pretty and was probably filthy.
His free hand caressed her throat and drew a line along her shoulder and down her upper arm, making her nipples tighten with anticipation, but he didn’t touch her breasts. He only trailed those tickling caresses along the skin of her arm while she tried to chase his lips.
She had to slide her hand up to his neck and curl it behind his skull to urge him to come down farther. To seal his hot mouth over her eager lips and oh . He kissed her with such slow, drugging impact, she melted against the door.
At a distance, she thought, This is different .
Not because there was novelty in kissing someone new, although there was that, but also because his effect on her was so profound.
He lifted his head briefly, eyes glittering with something she couldn’t decipher. Heat and revelation, maybe. As though he was also surprised.
Then his lips dragged across hers again, the pleasure sharp and deep and expansive. Maybe it was the freedom of having no history or future with him. It allowed her to let go in a way she wouldn’t have if she’d expected to see him again, but she let herself become more and more immersed in their kiss. Letting him feast in his unhurried, claiming way.
Today was her only chance to know him in an intimate way, though. She found herself greedy to consume him in one gulp. She didn’t want to be coaxed or treated gently. Through lunch and all the light flirting, he’d kindled her curiosity and sensuality. Now raw sexual hunger caught and burned within her. It went beyond yearning. It was craving. Urgency.
She licked into his mouth with blatant invitation and felt him stiffen.
That made her feel powerful, but her smile of satisfaction had barely touched her lips when his hand slid up from her waist and massaged her breast through the light cotton of her dress. His kiss deepened, becoming more demanding as he dragged her into a miasma of passion. His hungry mouth trailed into her throat and her nipple stung where his thumb teased it through the fabric of her dress.
She writhed, pinned beneath the unforgiving door and the press of his weight. When she wormed her hand between them to find the stiff shape pressing against her hip, his breath hissed in.
“Are you sure you’ve never done this?” he asked in a graveled tone.
“I’m not a virgin, if that’s what you mean.”
In many ways she felt like it, though. She had never experienced anything like the way he was making her feel. The greed. The surrender .
He bent to scrape his teeth across the tip of her breast, then sucked at her nipple through cotton and bra. The intense sensations grew until she whimpered. He straightened. His mouth came back to hers, rough and commanding. Somehow, he had picked up the hem of her skirt. Air danced across her thighs. His touch skimmed her plain underwear, then his wide palm arrived between her thighs, claiming her in a firm squeeze that made her abdomen contract with alarmed excitement. Heat flooded into the press of his hand.
What had she unleashed?
Turning her head, she gasped, “Do you have a condom?”
“I don’t need a condom for this, bella .” He slid the placket of her underwear aside and his fingertip delicately slid into her soaked folds, making her groan with pleasure.
She felt his smile before he smothered her with another kiss.
The sounds from the street below carried in, but all she really knew was the breadth of his shoulders and the drag of his mouth and the way his touch rolled and dipped and circled, making her stomach tense and tremble with anticipation. They kissed in flagrant licks and passionate clashes. She squeezed his erection through his trousers, hoping she was delivering as much erotic delight as she was receiving, but she was losing her hold on reality.
“We should…” She could hardly form words.
“Die your little death, dolcezza . It’s what you want, isn’t it?” His lazy touch slid in a delicious, unrelenting rhythm, invading and retreating.
She couldn’t fight it. As climax rose to overtake her, she clutched at his shirt and bit her lip. She pushed her face into the hollow of his shoulder while her inner muscles clamped on the finger that impaled her. Waves of joy rolled over her, making her moan with abandon while he continued to caress her.
He held her close in the aftermath while she leaned weakly into him, panting in astonished joy.
“That is how it’s done, bella ,” he said against her ear. “You give me the freedom to touch you and I make you forget where you are.”
“Yes, please.” She let her head fall back.
He kissed her again, tasting of deprivation. Demand. It thrilled her.
They began pulling at each other’s clothes, barely speaking.