Total pages in book: 99
Estimated words: 94124 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 471(@200wpm)___ 376(@250wpm)___ 314(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 94124 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 471(@200wpm)___ 376(@250wpm)___ 314(@300wpm)
He orders for both of us with a commanding edge that declares he knows exactly what he wants, and he won’t stop until he gets it.
I don’t protest. I’m too preoccupied trying to figure out his identity to care if he upgrades our meals to include sliced chicken breast.
When fragrant pasta, bread, and red wine arrive only minutes later, I realize how hungry I am. I dig in. Rich, comforting flavors envelop me, and the wine warms me from the inside out. We eat in silence until the tension becomes unbearable.
“Are you going to tell me your name, or should I continue calling you ‘the handsome stranger’?”
His brows disappear into his rigorous hairline as a devilish grin carves onto his mouth. It takes a moment for the truth to dawn, and when it hits, it hits hard.
I just told him I think he’s handsome.
His smile is lazy, and it makes my heart flutter. “Giovanni…” His following words are as delayed as his first. “Giovanni Caruso.”
A shiver skates across my arms when I realize I’ve heard his name before. The Caruso family is legendary in Sicily. They’re powerful, untouchable, and rumored to have their hands in everything from importing to politics.
I won’t mention the things better left unspoken.
My attempt to mask my shock is fraudulent. The playful glint that’s been firing in Giovanni’s eyes all night vanishes, replaced with a serious gaze. “Does that scare you?”
Lying crosses my mind, but I decide against it. “A little,” I admit. “But I’m unsure why it should.”
He leans back in his chair and eyes me intently. “You’re honest. I like that.”
“I don’t see the point in pretending to be something I’m not.”
Dark hair falls across his eye when he nods as if I’ve passed some sort of test. “Good. Because I don’t either.”
Once more, silence falls between us. It isn’t uncomfortable. More an unspoken understanding and mutual respect. I can’t judge him for what he does for his family. That would make me a walking contradiction. Especially today.
After finishing my meal, I sit back and enjoy the wine. The buzz it hits me with makes me a little giddy but not close to tipsy. For once, my belly is full, so the alcohol’s potency will lessen before it enters my bloodstream.
If only a full stomach could prevent my mouth from running away on me.
“Who was the woman you were with earlier?”
Giovanni coughs through the pasta suddenly trapped in his throat before he briskly swallows. “Woman?”
My defenses immediately bristle.
I detest men who can’t be honest.
When I hightail it to the exit, Giovanni shouts my name. I’m out the door and racing down the alleyway beside the restaurant before he leaves his seat.
“Valentina...” He’s so close I feel his breath on my ear.
I don’t understand how he arrived so fast. I’m not sprinting—who can in wet shoes?—but my speed is similar to the one I used earlier when I evaded him.
I nearly break my heels from the force of my steps as I desperately try to get away.
“Valentina…”
This time, he grabs hold of my wrist and yanks me back. His tug boosts the strength of my swing when I slap him hard across the face. A crack ripples the air faster than I thought possible.
I expect Giovanni to respond with as much violence. Most people would. But Giovanni only stills for a second before the most seductive grin I’ve ever seen spreads across his face.
Then, in the blink of an eye, he’s on me. His lips violently crash into mine as his fingers tangle with my hair. My protest is silenced as he thrusts his tongue past my lips and slowly strokes the roof of my mouth.
My knees buckle as all my worries fade. He kisses me with an angry aggressiveness that shouldn’t turn me on but does. It overwhelms my efforts to maintain control and leads to a swift and embarrassing defeat.
The anxiety I felt in the restaurant is insignificant compared with how I’m feeling now. I kiss him back with the passion of someone who won’t regret it later, and make no move to stop his advances as he pins me against the alley wall and pushes my underwear aside.
I’m hoping for refreshing salty air to cool the intense heat, but Giovanni’s large, authoritative hand keeps us too close for any air to get in.
As his thumb holds the material of my panties, which are drenched from his kiss, to the side, his mouth strokes, caresses, and torments me.
“Do you know how long I’ve waited for this?” He doesn’t wait for me to answer. “Since the moment I heard you cursing at your phone.” His thumb slips away from my panties to caress my clit, and I can’t think of a single word that he wouldn’t classify as begging. “Tell me it’s been the same for you. That I’m not the only one who’s been wandering Carlisle at all hours, searching for a needle in a haystack.”