Roman Crazy Page 69


Seeing him here, I knew that if this second chance somehow went south, I’d never get over him. “Holy—”

“—shit,” Daisy finished, and I was sure she wiped a bit of drool from her chin.

He smiled and looked down in a boyish way. He pushed off from the car and stepped to the side enough to open the passenger door.

Daisy was rolling her tongue back into her mouth when she insisted, “I’m not attracted to him.” She finished by giving him a very thorough once-over. “You have to know that.”

“That’s good.”

“But, my God.”

“I know,” I agreed, fanning myself in the late-summer heat.

“How long is the drive?”

“About two hours.”

“You’re lucky if you make it in three,” she said, turning me toward her. “Between that man, that car, and you in that dress? You’re not going to make it out of the city without him stopping for a quickie somewhere.” She laughed, swatting my butt before disappearing back into the apartment.

He was up the stairs before the front door clicked shut. Suppressing a grin, I took tiny steps back as he stalked forward on the small landing.

“Hi,” I said, standing a bit taller and pushing my boobs out just enough to catch his eyes.

They flickered down and his nostrils flared at the tight bodice and squared neckline that was highlighting my sun-kissed cleavage.

“You look . . .” he began, before scooping me up into his arms to pin me against the door.

Between kisses, he murmured, “Gorgeous. Stunning. Breathtaking.” He kissed me again and again, each kiss getting more frantic. “We need twenty minutes.”

His hips thrust forward and Daisy’s words echoed in my mind. Quickie.

“You’re going to make us late,” I panted, my head thudding back against the door while he kissed and licked a path from my neck to the strap of my dress. Slowly, he began pulling it to the side, baring my shoulder to his kisses. His fingers were hot as he nipped at my skin and I could feel the smile against my body.

“They will understand. Let us inside. I can be quick. Ten minutes.”

“But we’ve got . . . Jesus that feels good . . . a two-hour drive ahead and—”

“I will speed.”

“Daisy’s home.”

“She won’t mind.”

“Marcello,” I admonished, gently pushing against him and laughing.

“Mannaggia,” he groaned, resting his forehead to my shoulder.

We were both breathing heavily, his hands tightening around my waist. His lips swept up for one more heated kiss before he backed away.

I looked down to see tiny red marks scattered across my chest from his beard. “I hope these fade before we get there.”

“I will just make new ones,” he said, swinging my bag over his shoulder. With his free hand, he held on to mine as we walked down to the car.

“You like?” he asked, resting my duffel and purse next to his on the backseat of the sports car. “I borrowed it from a friend for the weekend.”

I ran my finger along the door, down the front, and across, mindful of his heated gaze following me the entire time.

“Can I drive?”

He laughed, but I could see his mind was still on other things. His eyes burned with that heat that usually meant I’d be naked it thirty seconds.

“Five minutes,” he begged.

I gulped. “We’ll be late.”

“This is no longer a concern of mine, tesoro,” he murmured, beginning to push me up against the car, his hands already moving toward the straps of my dress again.

“No, no, later, I promise.” I held him literally at arm’s length. “If we can sneak away from your family and not get caught.”

He hung his head and sighed, took a moment to collect himself, then nodded. Once we were settled in the car, he handed me a small, thin box.

“What’s this?” I asked, tearing open the bow before he even answered.

He chuckled, picking up bits of flying paper and tucking them into his pocket.

Underneath a sheet of tissue paper was a large square black scarf. I pulled it out, loving the slip of the silk between my fingers.

“It’s beautiful,” I said, my breath catching when I got to the tiny embroidered AB in the corner. It was simple, thoughtful, and perfect. “Thank you.”

“It is from that shop near the office.”

“I love that shop.” I’d mentioned that to Daisy once in passing. “But how did you know?”

He looked sheepish, rubbing the back of his neck. “I overheard you.”

I took his hand, squeezing. “That was weeks ago.”

Shrugging, he brought my hand up to his lips. “I saw it one afternoon and went in. I thought this would suit you.”

“I love it.” I began knotting it around my neck when he stopped me. “No, tesoro. Like this.”

Folding it into a triangle, he rested it near my forehead and pulled it down, sweeping it beneath my hair. “Hold here,” he instructed, placing my hand on top of my head. Then taking the two tails, he wrapped them loosely around my neck before tying them in a small knot at the base of my skull.

He took a deep breath and grinned. Something flickered in his eyes. “What?” I said, self-consciously touching the scarf.

“Look,” he said, pointing to the small rearview mirror.

I smiled at my reflection. The scarf was covering all of my hair. Perfect for a long drive in a convertible.

“I feel like Audrey Hepburn,” I said, leaning over and kissing him soundly.

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