Total pages in book: 163
Estimated words: 163540 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 818(@200wpm)___ 654(@250wpm)___ 545(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 163540 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 818(@200wpm)___ 654(@250wpm)___ 545(@300wpm)
Our eyes lock.
“Have you ever had that feeling that you already know someone, but you don’t?” I ask.
“Yes.” He smiles softly. “I have it with you. I had it from the moment we met.”
I sit up in a rush, and water sloshes everywhere. I lie over his broad body, and his hands come to my behind. “Maybe we were lovers in ancient Roman times.”
He grabs my face and smiles against my lips. “I know we were.”
I smile up at my partner as he twirls me around the dance floor.
The room is lit by candlelight, and there are beautiful people everywhere.
The mood is sultry and romantic, like my outfit. I’m wearing a smoky gray backless dress with spaghetti straps that falls to the floor. It’s Valentino, of course. Giorgio really has injected some serious sexiness into my wardrobe. Not that I’m complaining.
Rico is wearing a black dinner suit. We are in the swankiest restaurant club I’ve ever seen. We’ve had the most amazing day. We woke up late and had a lazy breakfast. After that, Rico took me sightseeing, we’ve laughed and talked and my poor heart may never recover. Having his undivided attention has been perfect in every way. He’s different here—more relaxed. Only a few men are trailing behind us. I didn’t realize how different it is for Enrico in Italy. He has a reputation to uphold there. Everyone double takes when they see him, he is so well known. Here, he can go relatively unnoticed.
This afternoon we went back to the yacht. We made love and drank cocktails on the deck as the sun set over the water.
This is living.
Monte Carlo is beyond incredible. I now know why it’s known as the playground for the rich and wealthy.
It’s the weirdest thing, when I’m with Enrico, I don’t feel out of place. Wherever he belongs, I do, too.
I smile up at him as he moves us to the music.
Wearing his black dinner suit, Enrico’s back is rigid, and his hand is at a respectable height on my waist. Always the perfect gentleman in public—polite and respectful— but he’s always the Devil in private.
He’s two versions of the same song. The good and the bad. I like the good in him, but it’s the bad that I love. He brings out the bad in me, and I happen to love this new version of myself. I’m keeping her.
A song comes on, and I smile as soon as I hear it. “I love this song,” I say. “It’s called ‘Someone You Loved.’”
He frowns as he listens. “Hmm. Not my taste.”
“Why not?” I laugh. “It’s a beautiful song.”
He spins me to the music. “It’s about a man having his heart broken. It’s a sad song.”
“And?”
“I don’t want to dance with you to a sad song. I don’t feel in the least bit sad. Quite the opposite, actually.”
I smile up at my man, his big brown eyes look down at me. Everyone else in the room disappears. “Tell me something about you,” I whisper.
“Like what?”
“Tell me something I don’t know yet.”
He thinks for a moment as we sway to the music. “I hated being away from you this week,” he murmurs softly.
“You did?”
“I had to force myself every day not to come home to you.” I put my head onto his chest and smile against him. He pulls me closer and kisses my temple. “Are you ready to go home, my love?”
My love.
“I am so ready.”
The plane comes to a slow stop on the tarmac at Milan airport, and Rico inhales deeply, as if steeling himself for what’s to come.
Once given the go ahead by the captain, he stands, and I watch him walk around the cabin, talking to Lorenzo, who happens to be multitasking on the phone. Lorenzo seems to be his right-hand man, and most of the details are managed by him. He’s a good-looking man in his mid-fifties, at a guess. He’s handsome and obviously proud. He and the other men speak only Italian to Rico and each other. I’m unsure if they can even understand me. If they can’t, they’ve given me no indication other than a polite nod when I look their way.
I sit and stare out of the window. It’s 11:00 p.m. on Sunday night.
What an amazing weekend.
Work tomorrow, though. Ugh. I could live on that yacht for all of eternity and never miss a thing.
Rico comes back to me. “Are you ready, Olivia?”
My heart drops. I’m Olivia again now. He’s back to being guarded. I much prefer my private man to the one he shows the world.
He takes my hand and helps me out of my seat. I see a black SUV drive onto the tarmac.
Lorenzo bends to look out of the window.
“L’auto è qui.” Translation: the car is here.
“Ok. Andiamo.” Translation: okay let’s go.
Rico presses his hand on the small of my back and leads me from the plane. We are ushered into the back of the car.