Chapter Nine
SAM STEPPED OUT of the small, stuffy examination room and into the bright July afternoon.
She smiled wide, loving the sunshine on her face.
The cardiologist’s office was located in a colorful piazza in the city of Como, a myriad of its intriguing lanes leading to grand galleries and beautiful churches.
Hitching her crossbody bag over her shoulder, she crossed the side street into the main thoroughfare and stilled.
Alessandro stood across the street, in his usual white dress shirt and dark trousers, leaning against a tinted Maserati and looking at his phone.
Even from the distance, the force of his presence hit her straight. Had he come to see her straight from the airport?
It had been two days since he’d left in the middle of the night. The next morning, Antonio had informed her that he’d gone straight to Tokyo.
He didn’t owe her anything, she reminded herself again.
There was no future for them.
And yet, her belly knotted painfully every time she thought of returning home, of never being regarded again with that intense gaze, of never touching him again.
As if he felt her gaze on him, Alessandro looked up. Heat arched between them like a live wire. Her heart kicked against her rib cage. If it weren’t for the fact that the cardiologist had told her she was perfectly fine, she’d have gone back in.
He crossed the street in long strides. But he didn’t haul her into his arms or kiss her cheek or even pat her shoulder, as horrifically platonic as that sounded.
In fact, he left at least a foot between them.
Something told Sam it was a conscious decision, to stop himself.
And just like that, her entire mood took a downswing.
She couldn’t believe it was the same man who had gone down on her as if she were a feast he was starved for.
“What’s wrong?” he had the gall to ask.
“Nothing. When did you get back?”
He jerked his chin at the building behind her. “How did your appointment go?”
“How did you know I’d be here?” she countered.
“Your phone was off, and no one at the villa knew where you were.” An edge crept into his words. “Angelina told me.”
“It’s on Airplane mode. The roaming charges will be astronomical,” she said, waving her phone.
“I don’t want to send my parents into debt again.
When I’m at the villa, I connect to Wi-Fi.
” She sensed his hesitation—no, frustration.
How were they starting off on such a wrong note?
“Don’t freeze me out. Just say what you want to. ”
“I have a phone and a chauffeured car I want you to use.”
“Isn’t that overkill?”
“I would like to reach you when I want to, Sameera.”
“You say my name like that when you’re railroading me into something.”
He rubbed his brow with his fingertip, a sure tell that he was employing about hundred filters between his real feelings and what he said. “Is it such a pain to accommodate me?”
Was she imagining the flash of vulnerability in his eyes?
Sam sighed. It wasn’t as if she wasn’t eating his food, staying at his house, sleeping in his damned bed already. “Okay.”
His jaw relaxed. “What did they say?”
“Just a routine checkup.”
He ran the pad of his thumb under her eyes. Sam wanted to lean into the touch so badly that she swayed. “You look tired, bella.”
“Is that all you see when you see me, Alessandro? Someone you have to check up on?”
He flinched at her sharp tone. And that made her feel like gum stuck on her shoe.
Hands tucked into his trousers, he watched her. “I can’t seem to stop upsetting you.” Hardness crawled into his words, etched into his features. “As long as you’re mine, I’ll worry over you, Sameera. I will not apologize for being the way I am.”
Her mouth fell open. “Is that how you see me? As…yours?”
He frowned as if she was being dense on purpose. “Sì.”
She should address the deeper issue here, but all she felt was this fizzy feeling, as if she were filled with bubbles of joy. Was this about seeing her as someone who was incapable, or about his needing to be in control?
“I haven’t been sleeping well because I’ve been painting. What I had in mind, it’s taking shape on the canvas.” He was taking shape on her canvas, and she couldn’t stop obsessing over it. “I’m at that stage where I just want to keep going, night or day. I don’t care about sleep or food—”
Her stomach interrupted them with an embarrassingly loud growl. She’d slept in late and had to rush to the appointment. Which meant she’d missed breakfast. In the scheme of things, it wasn’t a big thing. Until her body decided to turn it into a big thing.
Her own stubbornness kept her from admitting she was wrong. “Why aren’t you at work?”
“Day off.”
“Oh.” In the weeks she’d been at the villa, she’d heard Maria complain that Alessandro worked ninety-hour weeks without a break. Even Antonio had asked his son to take it easy. “What were you planning to do?”
“Go to bed and stay there all day. With you.”
All the doubts died an instant death, and Sam threw herself at him.
Wrapping her fingers around his neck, she pressed her mouth to his. Despite everything, all she wanted was to kiss him.
She tasted his surprise in his stillness. His mouth was soft and tasted of coffee, and he was hard and warm against her body. When she moaned in complaint, he laughed and opened for her. She licked into his mouth eagerly.
But he didn’t deepen the kiss.
Instead, his mouth was soft, exploring, almost…
reverent. His emotions buffeted her, carrying her along.
This kiss wasn’t like the one in his study.
Or the one in the kitchen. This wasn’t a prelude to sex.
No rushing toward a destination. This kiss said he wanted nothing more than to be here with her in this moment.
She buried her face in his chest, loving the thunder of his heart against her cheek. Part of her didn’t want to keep acknowledging what he was becoming to her. But part of her knew this moment would be over soon.
Some of the tension she’d felt in his frame dissipated. That he liked her telling him how he made her feel was obvious. Why didn’t he reciprocate?
No, she wasn’t going to analyze this. He’d taken the day off to spend it with her. That said more than words ever could. “By the way, I’m very competitive when it comes to these things.”
He tucked a lock of her hair behind her ear, and she buried a smile that wanted to bloom. “What things?”
Casually, she took his hand and laced his fingers with hers. That infinitesimal stillness came over him, but he shook it off. She dragged him toward the noisy piazza. “Two-point-five to nothing. I want to even that score.”
“Two-point-five?”
“Our orgasm count.”
His laughter exploded onto the quiet street. The sound dug its very roots into her heart. More than one woman stopped and stared at the stunning picture he made.
Her fingers tightened around his—something dark and possessive blooming in her chest. She wanted to drag him back to the privacy of their bedroom, to cup that laughter and hide it away for herself. She wanted the other women to stop looking at him. “Alessandro?”
“Sì?”
“I know you said this is a fling, but I’m out if you…if you even look at someone else.” She sounded particularly bloodthirsty, but she didn’t care.
“Okay.” His gray eyes were warm when he looked down at her. “How did you come up with the half?”
Sam pushed the stubborn lock of hair from his forehead back. “The half comes from me trying to…” she licked her lips “…to get off to you the other night after you left. I didn’t quite manage it.”
Naked desire made his eyes pop. “Then, let’s go. I want to see how well you keep all these promises.”
“I’ve got another appointment.” Something darkened in his gaze, and she hurried to explain. “With Giuseppe, this guy I met at the club.”
“The exclusive thing works both ways, Sameera.” Pure steel in his tone.
They started walking again. Instantly, he adjusted his pace to match hers. “He’s a painter,” Sam said.
“What do you know about him?”
“Angelina’s already checked him out. She’s as overbearing as you.”
“Now I know why I always liked her.”
Sam laughed at his sarcasm. “I can’t ditch Giuseppe. It’s a series of…appointments.”
“Sounds important.”
“He’s painting me. Nude.”
Alessandro stopped walking. “Going all in on this vacation, bella?”
Sam nodded.
He rubbed his neck. “What made you decide to do this all of a sudden?”
“Well, you saw the dress I wore to the club. I met Giuseppe there, and we got to talking about different painting techniques. At first, he—”
“Asked you to go home with him,” Alessandro supplied.
“I said I wasn’t interested. He said it was bad luck for him.
We chatted a bit, then he asked me about the scar.
He said he’d love to paint me nude for a series he’s doing about imperfect bodies.
Usually, I wouldn’t have agreed. But it took me a long time to have a healthy relationship with my body. This is a way of celebrating it.”
“You should,” Alessandro said softly.
“Is it weird that I wish you were a little jealous that another man will see me naked?”
“Oh, I am, tesoro. But—”
“We aren’t in a real relationship. I know,” Sam said before he could.
“I was going to say that’s my problem to deal with. Not yours.”
“Oh.”
“Is he going to sell it?”
“Of course. I wish I could buy it myself. But I’ve seen his work, and I can’t afford it.
” It had made her feel strange at first, the idea that someone would own a nude painting of her.
But she also wanted her body, her courage in this small act, to be a source of inspiration and joy for another.
“He’s offering me a chunky model’s fee, though.
It will be displayed at a gallery in a few months. The tickets are already sold out.”
Sam eyed the peaceful square. The sunny day, the colorful shops and restaurants and Alessandro’s fingers clasped around her, it was a moment out of her dreams.