“I guess you don’t remember last night?” He balanced on the edge of the bed.
I propped my elbow over the drool patch, hiding the state I’d slept in.Vero Italiano!The Italian classic exploded in my mind, mortifyingly loud. “We... sang Karaoke?” that last word squeaked from my mouth.
“Notjustthe singing.” He leaned closer, and a subtle hint of his spicy aftershave enveloped me. “When we arrived home?”
Me, unbuttoning his shirt, kissing his jaw, begging him…. Oh no. The memory crashed into me, each one of my actions a cymbal clash in my already throbbing head. My skin prickled, a cold sweat blooming on my forehead. I did the only thing I could and played dumb. “I… I don’t remember a thing.” The heatfilling my cheeks gave me away a lot faster than my faltering words.
Amused, he tilted back, a snicker escaping his lips. “You don’t remember how you begged me to make love to you?”
“Oh…” I feigned shock, drawing on the word. “I did not.”
He wagged a finger. “You begged me,begged. Not only did you beg, you jumped on me like a wildcat and ripped my shirt off.”
Boastful much? Ripped? Please.If I remembered correctly, I attempted a slow, seductive unbuttoning. Homemade wine and seduction? Yeah, a recipe for disaster. “I will not listen to these lies.” I threw back the duvet and leaped out of bed.
He rose to his full height, blocking my path. “Have I ever lied to you, Mrs. Cammarata?” Cocky humor laced his tone.
“You know I hate it when you call me that.” I scowled, brushing past him to the en-suite, desperate to escape his teasing laughter.
Enzo refrained from goading me for the rest of the day.
Our uneventful morning consisted of me nursing my hangover for the most part. He had Giovanna make me a lighttenerumisoup, claiming it would settle my nauseated stomach.
After lunch, we headed out for our usual stroll in the garden, where Lupo and Fico were already waiting for us. “Ciao,Lupo, Fico.” The Dobermans waited for a pet or an ear scratch. The fear I once felt around these two was nonexistent. I caught Enzo’s smile, the pride shimmering in his eyes—he knew he’d helped me conquer a long-held phobia. “Are you okay?” I straightened from where I knelt before Fico. “You’ve been quiet all day.”
He kicked at a rock on the ground, the movement sluggish. How unlike him. What happened to the man who always told it like it was, no matter what? “I’m fine, a little tired from last night.”
While I nursed my incessant headache earlier, vivid flashbacks of the night before emerged; Enzo tucking me into bed and declaring needing a cold shower. Poor guy, I put him through hell. I was inexperienced, not blind. The fact I threw myself at him, with him incapable of pursuing the moment further due to my drunkenness, must have tortured him a great deal. “Um, last night… thank you for not taking advantage of the situation.” Me being thesituation.
His jaw clenched. “As if I would, Gemma.”
Ouch, I no doubt hit a nerve. Even sober, I craved him no less than the night before. The alcohol encouraged me to express my hidden desires. I’d rather die than admit it now sober. Perceiving the clouds in the pink sunset, I sauntered in front of him.God, forgive me, because I want to give in to him. I wanted him in every way, like a real married couple. Oh, what a mess I’d entangled myself in.
“We’ve got a few hours before dinner.” He fell into step beside me, his hand brushing against mine. “Should we head to the library for a while?”
“Sure.” I laced my fingers through his, the contact sending a jolt through me as we walked in comfortable silence back toward the villa. But it was far from silent. Every touch, every glance felt charged with the memory of last night and the unfulfilled desire simmering beneath the surface.
We settled in the living room, stretched out on opposite sofas, and started a game of cards.
Giulia announced dinner just as I was about to win. We abandoned our game and followed the maid into the dinette.
Lucio and Carina sat waiting for us at the table. I greeted them both with a polite nod and settled in my usual spot, flanked across Enzo. My gaze drifted upward, momentarily distracted by the frescoes adorning the ceiling—idyllic landscapes painted with a delicate hand, framed by intricate floral patterns. A faintscent of beeswax from the polished wood of the antique cabinets filled the air, a comforting aroma in the face of the tension simmering below. Lucio greeted me with genuine warmth, his smile crinkling the corners of his eyes. Carina, though, just gave me a quick once-over. So much for my attempt at bonding us.
The maids served our meals, and we dug into our grilled fish and vegetables.
“Enzo,” Carina’s sharp tone cut through the silence. “Have you reconsidered what we discussed last night?”
He shot his mother a dark look, his fork clattering against the side of his plate. What had they discussed? We’d arrived home so late last night; they must have talked after I’d passed out.
Lucio frowned, his gaze dancing back and forth between the two of them. At least I wasn’t the only one oblivious.
“My answer hasn’t changed.” His tongue swiped his teeth, nostrils flared. He collected his cutlery as if nothing had happened and continued eating.
“You’re making a big mistake.” Carina sipped her wine, her gaze never leaving Enzo’s face. Why was she so calm?
My stomach clenched, the muscles drawing tight as if bracing for a blow. It wasn’t hunger, but a cold, hollow dread that seemed to seep from my gut and up into my chest, making it hard to breathe. I swallowed a large gulp of water, the silence in the room pressing in on me. Or maybe it was just me feeling suffocated. A sheen of sweat broke out on my forehead. I pushed the fish around my plate, my stomach churning. My gaze landed on the marble fireplace across the room. Not lit, so why this sudden heat? The edges of the table blurred, then sharpened, then blurred again. A wave of darkness crashed over me, so overwhelming I couldn’t fight it.
Chapter 26
