Chapter One
Isabella
The exhibit on Pompeii and Herculaneum caused tears to pour down my face. I stared in wonder and overwhelming sadness as the past, filled with loss and pain, had been left frozen in place. It was beautiful and sad at the same time. Turning around to ask my tour guide about the exhibit, I realized the room was practically empty. I’d been so engrossed in the images that I’d lost my tour group.
Finally, grasping that they were nowhere in sight, I went looking everywhere around the building. The National Archeological Museum had several levels above ground and one below. For half an hour, I searched inside without a sign of anyone from my group. Not that I honestly remembered their faces. I called the number and left a message with the tour company to say I was lost and hope they’ll come looking for me. Finally, I asked the information desk at the museum, but they hadn’t seen them for about twenty minutes.
Taking a deep breath, I walked out of the building, hoping that I’d catch them outside before they loaded the tour bus to go back to the hotel.
A hard wind swept my hair in my face, reminding me that my hair was down and how hot it was. Today had been a record temp according to the guide, so I yanked my hair tie off my wrist and pulled my strands together in a plain ponytail. I had no intention of impressing anyone, so I didn’t honestly care if it looked a mess.
Sitting on a bench outside the museum, I stared at people passing by for any recognition. Several times, I pulled out my phone to see if I missed a message or call. Nothing. The phone said it had service. I tried the tour company again, but I got the same message.
Shit. The crowds moved around, spreading thin as the afternoon wore on and yet no one.
Getting off my ass, I crossed the street in the middle of the piazza to search. Shit. I didn’t speak Italian at all. Too embarrassed to ask for help, I wandered around for what felt like an eternity. Who went to a foreign country and not come prepared? Me. That’s who.
I was a fourth-generation Italian-American, and I thought perhaps learning my heritage might make me feel closer to my parents, who died in an accident last year.
It hadn’t.
In fact, I felt more alone than ever. I should have just gone to college and partied like the rest of my friends, but I let my grief consume me for longer than it should and unenrolled in my local college.
My parents left me a nice amount of money, but it wasn’t going to last. At nineteen, I had to find my way, my path in the world or something.
In my absentminded rambling, I passed by a bistro type place for the fifth time. A man was sitting at one of the small tables who caught my attention. I would have noticed him before if he’d been there because he was hard to miss. His caramel colored eyes reflected the sun’s rays, brightening the irises. His jaw had a thick layer of sexy dark black scruff that matched his short, coiffed hair. He was wearing an all-black suit. What was he thinking in this heat? Well, it looked incredible on him. Even without standing up, I could tell he was fit and strong.
Turning my gaze away from him, I focused on my mission to find my party or my way back to my hotel. I only stopped when a man in a dark suit approached me, trapping me between a small corridor off the street. “Excuse me,” I said, trying to get around him, but the man refused to step around me. I tried my best Italian and said, “Scusi. Parli Inglese.” I didn’t know if he’d laughed because I said it wrong or my makeup was smeared, but I wanted to kick him in his shins for doing it.
The sound of the slightest chuckle behind me caused me to turn around.
“Forgive my security.” A tall man nearly as large as the brute who blocked my path, stood there looking down with a smirk. Even with that cocky expression, he was hot. The shadow of his man behind me blocked the sun, giving me a perfect view of the sexy man in front of me. It was the man from the bistro.
I swore that the wetness pooling between my legs was from the heat of the day and not from the burning lust in his eyes.. Suddenly, my fear, pain, and panic disappeared, transforming into pure unadulterated passion. I couldn’t even speak, losing myself in his light, honey-colored eyes. They drew me in like a predator luring his prey to their fate. “I’m sorry. I just need to go.”
“No.” I lean my head back to look at him with audacity. “I mean. Per favore, stay. Join me for a light dinner.”
“Um…” I ached to say yes, but something in me told me food wasn’t the only thing he’d like to have, and I was afraid I’d give him anything he desired.
Chapter Two
Alessandro
She caught my attention the moment she stepped out of the museo. Tiny and sexy, but it wasn’t just her beauty that captured me. I spotted the tear stains on her face and knew that she’d been struck with emotion inside. She had a heart, and it now belonged to me even if she wasn’t aware of it. Who are you, amore? I could answer that myself. “Signora DiMarco.”
Her long black hair blew around her face as a breeze picked up. She shoved it back before pulling out a hair tie to get it out of her way. Fuck me, she was perfect with her hair up or down.
As she passed my table, I could see that she was young. I prayed that she was legal because I needed her more than my next fucking breath. Wearing a pair of shorts that were perfectly fitted to her round ass and a blue t-shirt that clung to her chest, she was a walking temptation. Somehow though, I didn’t believe she even knew it.
Seeing her spread out over my thousand dollar sheets as she creamed on my tongue while screaming my name had my cock throbbing in my slacks. Adjusting it under the table, so as not to offend anyone, I angled the fucker to fit under my belt buckle, covered by my suit jacket which I was glad that I had chosen to wear. I watched her search the area for someone.
Every time she passed another man, my jealousy kicked in because she wasn’t searching for me. She should be at my side, telling me how much she needed me. I’d give her whatever she was looking for. Pulling out her phone, she bit her lip as she looked up something.
“Tale her and don’t let her leave the piazza,” I told my head of security, Cosimo. “Don’t touch her though. Capisci?”
“Sì chiaro.”
“Bueno.” I took my seat back at the café, watching as she moved about. Sitting idly by wasn’t my thing. When I wanted something I took it, but I had enemies and she could be the bait to lure me in.
After checking my watch, two minutes passed and that was the extent of my patience. Stepping up behind her as she tried to move around Cosimo, I laughed because my sweet bride-to-be was a tourist. Perfect.
When she turned to give me her best pissed off scowl, my sexy little thing gasped, and that hardened expression relaxed, allowing me to see the hint of lust in her eyes. I cuffed her bicep with my hand and led her to the table I’d dined at moments earlier.
“Come, Tesoro, sit with me and tell me why you’re running around the piazza. I hope it’s not a foolish man you were looking for.”
“Well yes,” she said, spinning her head around to look behind her. I let out a growl, ready to dispose of my competition. She turned her head back to me, and added with a blush, “Not like a boyfriend or anything. I was on a group tour and I got separated from them. I shouldn’t even tell you that. I don’t know you.”