She practically spit into the receiver. “I’ve just spent the bulk of my Saturday at the computer. I’m completely on board, so to speak. Can we settle it over the phone?”
“No. Where are you going? Can I meet you?”
She stared at her bike with a lustful need that shook her bones. “I’m going riding for the next few hours. How about I stop by afterward and we’ll settle the items up for negotiation?”
“riding what? A bicycle?”
She couldn’t help the automatic scoff that came from her mouth. “No: motorcycle.”
He paused for a beat. “Perfect. Give me fifteen minutes and I’ll meet you at the Duomo.”
Julietta gaped. “What? No—no, you can’t go with me.
I’m going motorcycle riding.”
“I heard you the first time. I promise not to bully you with my bike. See you soon.”
The phone clicked.
She blinked and tried desperately to keep her sanity.
This was not happening. Her peaceful, stress-blowing bike ride was turning into a business trip with a man she needed to avoid at all costs. She analyzed the options of not showing or calling back to cancel, but she already sensed the domineering man wouldn’t answer. And if she didn’t show up for their impromptu meeting, he could decide to pull the contract.
Julietta blew out a breath of disgust and climbed on the bike. The low thrum of the engine kicked into gear, and she took off toward the center of town, weaving expertly through traffic and keeping her speed down until she hit open turf and let it rip.
She gave him credit. Her watch just hit the fifteen mark when she saw him pull up. Julietta tried hard not to show any surprise at his choice of ride. She’d expected a brash American Harley, but damn him, he’d managed to up his game without even trying.
She flipped up her visor and flicked him a cool glance.
“Nice bike. Where’s your Harley?”
The total hotness of male perfection on the MV Agusta F4CC was criminal. In faded, tight jeans, a leather bomber jacket, and vintage riding boots, he cut a bad-boy-meets-surfer figure that almost killed her. Almost. He slowly un-buckled his helmet and slid it off his head to cradle in the crook of his arm. Then shook out his shaggy blond hair. His quick grin flashed that crooked front tooth. “you’re not cutting up on the American phenomenon of the Harley, are you darlin’? That could get you shot in the U.S.”
She gave a delicate shrug. He never needed to know she secretly loved the American classic. “Good thing I’m not there. How’d you get one of those? There were only one hundred made.”
He dropped his voice to a dirty whisper. “I know people. They owe me favors.”
Her spine tingled with anticipation. The hungry look as his gaze roved over her body caught her hard, but she ral-lied. “What do we need to discuss?”
He laughed low. “Nothing at the moment. Where are we going?”
She drew her brows together and tried to be firm.
“Nowhere. We’ll discuss business, and then I’m going riding.”
“Where?”
She shrugged. “Wherever I feel like.”
“Sounds like a plan. We’ll stop for a break and talk business later. you lead.”
Julietta squirmed with the need to wipe the smug look off his face. “I’m trying to be polite here, but you’re making it difficult. I don’t feel like making social conversation today.”
“Who said anything about conversation?”
Her spit dried up and she held back an actual pant.
Those full lips quirked as if he knew her body’s reaction.
“If you can’t keep up, I’m not waiting for you. This is my time,” she said.
His slow grin taunted and pushed all the right buttons.
or the wrong ones. “I’ll admit my surprise at your choice of The Pirate. But can you handle her, little girl? Perhaps I’ll be the one waiting for you to catch up.”
Julietta snapped her helmet down, kicked her bike into gear, and gave him a pitying look. “See you on the other side.”
She took off.
They rode through the city, battled traffic, and finally hit stride. The streets opened up and spit them out as the city rolled by and the gorgeous hills of the Alps shimmered in the distance like a mirage. The sun fought like the king it was and triumphed over the grayness for a few hours. Traffic was lighter than normal for a Saturday, and she headed toward Navigli. Julietta rode hard, pushing the machine into full gear and squeezing out more horsepower. The flash of the road underneath the wheels, the tug of the cold wind in her nostrils, the whiz of vivid blue and green and yellow of the colorful buildings all rose up and mixed together in a symphony of sweetness to her soul. For a little while, on a fast bike, in her beloved land, she was truly free.
They stopped for a break at a small café near the canal and bought lunch. They parked their bikes and stretched their legs in a leisurely walk. The market was open and bustling, and a boat slugged slowly down the water, charm-ing the tourists with an old-world yet Bohemian influence.
Filled with endless trinkets, clothes, food, and jewelry, Navigli boasted one of the most wonderful markets in Milan. In the evening, the place came alive with a variety of hip-hop nightclubs, cafés, and shopping. With sunset approaching soon, the crowds would build, so Julietta stuffed their water and uneaten wrapped food into her saddlebag and took off again.
She gave him credit. Sawyer never said a word.
But his gaze followed every swing of her hips and caught her sneaky half glances. The man’s ass was compa-rable to David’s, and Michelangelo’s statue had brought her to tears.
Julietta looked at the sky. Not too much longer before dark hit. She craved the bite of adrenaline she usually achieved from the closure of a good business deal. But she’d just found another way to get her hit.
Julietta stopped her bike, cocked her hip, and made the offer. “I’m heading toward Castello Sforzesco. There’s a nice open road to let the bikes breathe. Let’s see who gets there first.”
Surprise skittered across his face. “you wanna race?”
“Call it what you want. I plan on welcoming you at the gate.”
He threw his head back and laughed long and hard. The sound was sweeter than Mozart and sexier than Pavarotti.
“you’ve got to be kidding. This baby has more balls than most bikes on the market.”
She smiled sweetly. “I’m sure you both do. See you there.”
Julietta’s skin prickled with anticipation, and the blood in her veins heated and rushed with the challenge.
She took off toward Castello Sforzesco in a race to beat the dying sun and the man beside her. Julietta hated to admit he rode like a pro and handled the meatiness of the bike with a grace most men couldn’t imitate. She’d ridden with many men throughout her lifetime: some family, some friends, some lovers. Usually she was disappointed in the aggression and selfishness of the rider.
Not Sawyer. He respected the power of Claudio Castiglioni’s prized possession, never trying to reach the 196 mph the bike was reputed to achieve, and instead using the mechanics like a lover, coaxing the best with a seductive skill that made her soaking wet between her thighs. He was also a dominant driver, fully in control through each bend of the road, fiercely concentrating on his goal.