When I look at the driver, a smile immediately forms on my lips.
“Get in, bellisima,” Sly commands smoothly, leaning over the passenger seat to push open its door.
Instinctually, I look around to see who may be watching, and when I find everyone going about their day, I relax.
“You drive yourself?” I question, careful to push my leather skirt down as I use the roof's grab handle to hoist myself into the passenger seat.
“Sì. I prefer it. Although I prefer my Superleggara to this, I thought you’d appreciate the comfort my SUV offers.”
My gaze falls to Sly’s hands as they grip the steering wheel, expertly guiding us away from his building. He has beautiful hands.
Strong. Powerful.Veiny.
An image of his hands all over me flashes throughmy mind, and my body reacts so instantaneously, I feel my toes curl in my boots.
“What’s a Superleggara?” I ask, turning my focus to the road in an effort to regain my composure.
“My Ducati,” he says with a grin. He looks over at me briefly. “You’ll look amazing on the back of it, piccola ladra.”
There are those words again.
Little thief.
“Why do you call me that?” I’ve been dying to know, mulling over it all week long, and it's been driving me insane.
His eyes never leave the road, the windshield now scattered with light raindrops from a passing cloud, but I can tell by his body language he’s hesitant to tell me. His hands grip the steering wheel harder, but then loosen.
Tapping his finger against the rich leather, he gives in. “Because a little thief is what you are. You’ve broken down my walls and have begun to steal pieces of my heart without even realizing it.”
Biting down on my bottom lip, I smile and look down at my hands that are settled in my lap. I can feel the heat rising from my neck and onto my cheeks, my heart inflating from what he’s just told me.
“That might be the most romantic thing anyone’s ever said to me,” I confess.
“It is the truth, Vincenza. Though we have much to discuss this afternoon.”
He reaches over and takes my hand—agesture so simple, yet so intimate. I can’t downplay the smile it brings to my face, or the way my heart soars from his touch. This time, he laces his fingers through mine, stretching his arm across the center to settle both of our hands on my lap.
“Where are we going?” I ask, not really caring so long as I get to spend time in the company of this man.
He takes the on-ramp to the highway, sneaking a glance with a grin on his face. “Somewhere we can be alone without the watchful eye of others.”
Forty minutes outside the city, we turn onto a long, tree-lined road and drive a little while longer before our destination finally comes into view.
Surprised, I suck in a breath, awestruck by the stunning, Gothic style mansion we’re pulling up to. Built from bricks and stone in shades of gray, the building has beautiful cathedral style windows, old wooden shutters, stunning spires, and battlements.
Acastle. He brought me to a castle.
And not just any castle, a castle with the most extraordinary views.
The grounds are rich in both color and plant life, with lush green grass and full, beautiful trees. The backdrop is equally spectacular, with views of the Hudson and other parts of the city.
As we pull up to the front entrance, I notice a blackand white sandwich board beneath the stone overhang that reads“Sorry, closed for tours today.”
“I thought we could take a walk around the grounds and get to know each other,” he says once the vehicle is in park. Unhooking his seatbelt, he rotates his body slightly to face me. “We have it all to ourselves today.”
“How?” I ask, just as a man comes into view, exiting the castle doors.
“I called in a favor,” Sly says, smiling as he opens his car door and hops out, moving around the front of his SUV to shake hands with the man.
