Chapter 35
FABIANA
The next morning, I woke disoriented.
For a few slow seconds, all I could register was the soft weight of the blankets and the dull pain between my legs. Then memory crashed over me all at once.
The sauna. The shower. Cosimo’s mouth on mine, his hands sliding over my wet skin. The look in his eyes when he held me against the tile like he wanted to say something and couldn’t.
Panic hit a second later.
I twisted toward the clock on the nightstand. 8:12. Shit.
Cosimo had probably already left for Italy.
I yanked on the robe hanging off the bedpost and hurried through the connecting bathroom, still half tangled in sleep.
After the shower, he’d toweled me off and brought me back to my room.
I’d been so exhausted, so thoroughly spent, that I must’ve passed out the second my head hit the pillow.
It couldn’t have been much later than seven o’clock, but I’d slept through the entire night.
His bedroom was empty. I turned and rushed downstairs, my bare feet thudding against the new runner I had installed on the steps.
“Hello?” I called, but the house gave nothing back.
The living room was empty. The dining room too.
The silence made my heartbeat climb higher.
I swear, if he’d left without me, I was going to kill him.
Then I heard it. A soft clatter from somewhere deeper in the house, probably the kitchen.
As I stormed in, relief hit so hard it almost made me dizzy.
Cosimo stood with his back to me by the coffee machine, one hand braced on the counter while he lifted the carafe with the other.
“You’re still here,” I breathed.
His shoulders went tight for half a second before he poured coffee into a mug. “I’m still here.”
I leaned against the doorjamb and willed my pulse to slow. A simple white T-shirt stretched over his muscular shoulders and back, and I wondered if my nails had left marks on him yesterday that still hadn’t faded.
Slowly, he turned.
My gaze dropped at once to the mug in his hand.
It was one of mine. Yellow daisies painted on a blue background that was close to the color of his eyes.
A small, stupid flutter moved through me. I thought of the neat rows of simple black mugs I’d seen lined up in the cupboard. He could’ve grabbed any one of those, but for whatever reason, he hadn’t.
I bit on my bottom lip. He registered the movement before his gaze drifted lower, skimming over my robe, dropping to my bare legs, then moving back to my face.
“How do you feel?”
The question caught me off guard. As a rule, Cosimo didn’t concern himself with other people’s feelings. It was so tempting to think I was an exception. That I mattered in a way no one else did.
God, I was down bad.
“Fine.” My face warmed as memories of last night flooded back again. “A little sore. But I’m sure that’ll fade by the end of the day.”
Something dark and heated moved through his expression. It was there and gone, quickly hidden behind that controlled expression of his before he gave a small nod.
He sipped on the coffee and watched me over the rim of the mug. “You were right.”
I stilled. “About what?”
“I shouldn’t make decisions for you. You’re an adult. If you want to come to Grottaglie with me, that’s your choice to make.”
I swallowed. So that was what he was talking about. Not yesterday or what it meant, but Italy and logistics.
Some small part of me wilted at that, though I told myself it was for the best. There was too much we still weren’t saying to each other. Maybe trying to untangle any of it now, before yesterday even had a chance to settle in my mind, would only make things worse.
Cosimo placed the mug on the counter. “Before you decide, I need you to understand something.”
The last traces of sleep drained out of me. “What is it?”
“I’m not taking any backup. It’s a small town, and I don’t want to raise any red flags.” His brows furrowed. “I don’t know what we’re walking into, Nettle. I can take care of myself, but with you, the equation changes.” His jaw clenched, and I understood it then.
He was worried about me.
A softness moved through me, warm and aching, even though I was confident he was worrying about nothing. I’d been to Grottaglie before. It was a quiet place. I doubted anyone there would pose a threat to us.
“It’ll be fine, Cosimo.”
His frown only deepened. “If you come, you do exactly what I tell you while we’re there. No wandering off. No improvising. If I tell you we need to leave, we leave. If I tell you to keep quiet, you keep quiet. Understood?”
I nodded. “Of course.”
He studied me for another beat, as if testing whether I really meant it. “Fine. We’ll leave later today. Pack a bag.”
He moved past me toward the doorway, and his shoulder brushed mine.
The contact was brief. Barely anything.
It still made my whole body go taut.
My fingers twitched at my side. For one reckless second, I thought about reaching for him. Catching his wrist. Pulling him back and pressing a kiss to his mouth just to see if he’d kiss me the way he had last night. Just to force something honest out into the open between us.
I didn’t.
Whatever had happened between us yesterday was going to have to be reckoned with eventually.
But not now.
Maybe right now, we just needed to get through Italy first.
We ended up leaving in the middle of the night after something at work delayed Cosimo.
We landed in Italy that afternoon and drove straight to the hotel in Grottaglie his secretary had booked for us.
It was a quaint Italian villa just outside the center of town, close enough to walk to the local sites and amenities.
With its whitewashed walls, terracotta roof, and vines climbing one side, it looked like something out of a storybook.
“You have the honeymoon suite booked for three nights,” the girl at reception told us brightly.
“That’s plenty of time to see everything our little town has to offer.
Everything is closer than it looks on the map.
If you want to walk to the town center or the ceramics quarter, it’s only about fifteen minutes. ”
“Thank you so much,” I said, taking the key she slid over the counter.
“Is there a second key?” Cosimo asked.
She shot him an apologetic look. “Unfortunately, no.”
“I don’t imagine we’ll be spending much time apart from each other, honey.” I looped my arm through Cosimo’s and laughed lightly. “He’s not going anywhere without me.”
“Right.” The receptionist beamed. “Well, unless you have any other questions, I’m happy to take you up to your room.”
“I’m hoping to shop for some ceramics while I’m here,” I said. “Do you know if any of the workshops are still open?”
She thought for a moment. “I don’t think so. Since it’s Sunday, most places close early. But they’ll be open from nine to two tomorrow, and then again from five to eight, so you’ll have plenty of time to visit them.”
“Perfect.”
She led us upstairs to the second floor, opened a pair of double doors with a flourish, and stepped aside.
Wow. The room was definitely designed for romance.
Rose petals were scattered across the floor.
There was a bottle of champagne on ice and a card from the owner wishing us a lifetime of happiness.
It had one bed, obviously, and it somehow looked smaller than a queen, though maybe that was just my imagination.
I bit down on the corner of my mouth. Thinking about how close Cosimo and I would be sleeping to each other for the next three nights sent a frisson of excitement through my body.
If I was honest, I’d admit that I hoped we wouldn’t be just sleeping.
Despite the long flight, we’d carefully avoided addressing what was happening between us.
But that didn’t change the fact that something had happened. And I wanted it to happen again.
I glanced over at Cosimo. He wore a pensive expression on his face as he took in the room. For one hopeful second, I assumed he was imagining the same things I was. Then his jaw tightened, and uncertainty crept in.
“I’ll leave you two to enjoy it,” the receptionist said before slipping out and shutting the door behind her.
I crossed to the small breakfast table by the window and set my purse down. “Cute, isn’t it?”
He grunted something unintelligible.
“I should probably go change.”
He nodded. “I’ve got some work to do.”
“No problem.”
I opened my suitcase, grabbed a pair of jeans, a silk blouse, and a light sweater, and ducked into the bathroom to change. It was only once I was alone in there that I realized I hadn’t taken a deep breath since we landed in Italy.
When I came back out, I grabbed the thriller I’d brought and curled up on the sofa at the foot of the bed to read.
Cosimo sat at the breakfast table with his laptop open, typing away.
My eyes drifted to him more than once. A few times, I caught him looking at me too.
The tension in the room was palpable, and after a while, I couldn’t sit still anymore.
It was only six-thirty, and no one in Europe ate dinner this early, but I needed to get out of this room.
“I’m going to grab some dinner,” I said. “I’m getting hungry.”
“I’ll come with you.”
“That’s okay. You’re still working.”
“Fabiana, I’m not letting you go into town on your own. We’re in a foreign country.”
I laughed. “I guarantee you this place is far safer than New York.”
“In New York, you have two bodyguards with you. Here, you’ve been downgraded to one. And anyway, we’re on our honeymoon, remember? What do you think the girl at reception is going to think if you wander off on your own?”
I folded my arms. “Since when do you care what anyone thinks?”
“It’s our cover,” he said. “I’m not blowing it on day one.”
Then he walked over and stopped in front of me. “You’re staying close to me while we’re here. You’d better get used to it.”
I sighed. “Fine. If you insist.”
Ten minutes later, Cosimo had changed, and we headed down the stairs.
Just before we entered the lobby, Cosimo reached over and took my hand in his.
I glanced down at our joined hands and wondered, for what had to be the tenth time in the last hour, how I was supposed to survive the next three days, let alone the next five months, pretending like I wasn’t thoroughly falling for him.