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Even his chest hair had her reeling. Oh God, but the shorts … had her going back for another peek from behind her book. They were a gray pair that hugged his tone body to perfection. They not only highlighted his abdominal muscles, but the muscles in his thighs that were on display due to his shorts being on the fitted side rather than the loose ones that men had worn when she had been growing up.

Stop it! She had to snap herself out of it. She blamed the damn book, even though she had been stuck reading the same sentence over and over again for the last five minutes.

At least her stance on one thing had changed—she was certain Dante Caruso didn’t need to pick up a romance novel to know what a woman wanted …

“Drinks?” Max was overheard behind them before he appeared, holding a tray of extremely large, garnished beverages.

“What is it?” Nadia asked as she stared at them quizzically.

Amo took his drink that was being held out to him. “Who cares?”

“Rum runners.” Max smiled now, handing one to a groggy Leo. “But don’t worry; I made theirs virgin.”

The huff from the bodyguard at the end was not missed.

“Yours, however, are not,” the bartender said, holding one out to her.

“Oh, no, thank you. I’ll pass.” It was a bit too early in the morning for her. She much preferred her glass of wine for dinner.

“What a waste,” Amo grumbled, not so much under his breath.

“You know what …” Nadia shot an evil glare down to him. “I will have one.”

Taking the huge glass, she took a big, spiteful sip from the straw and, as much as she wanted to rub it in his big face, she was actually taken aback by how good the frozen drink was. “That’s delicious, Max.”

“Thank you.” He beamed, giving the last one to his boss.

Taking another sip from her drink, she sat back and dived back into her book. It was hard for her eyes to leave the pages, only doing so when Dante flipped himself in the lounger to tan a different side of his body. Having all her attention on one male in the real world was enough, so it really made her focus on the heroine called Sex Piston. She was everything Nadia wasn’t, and the more she read about the biker bitch, the more she fell in love with her. She envied Sex Piston’s confidence more than anything. Sex Piston wouldn’t have screamed after finding those clothes Nadia had been left with. Hell, those clothes were probably from a woman named Sex Piston. But even though she showed off her body, she still demanded the same respect that would be given to a nun … unless she was in the bedroom, then she definitely didn’t want to be treated like a nun. Nadia was right there with her, however, because she definitely wouldn’t want Dante to treat her like a nun.

Before she knew it, she was another chapter in when the straw that hadn’t left her mouth had struggled to come up with more liquid while it made a gurgling sound.

As she set her empty glass down, her eyes caught Leo’s sleeping face, and she could see his cheek turning a shade of pink.

Nadia quickly put her book down and went on a hunt for a bottle she had seen lying around somewhere. Finding it under the TV, she went back out to the boys.

“Wake up,” she demanded the two, and when their sunglasses had raised with them waking, she tossed the bottle at the big one. “You need to put on some sunscreen.”

“We’re Italian.” Amo shrugged, putting his shades back on. “We tan. We don’t burn.”

That logic almost hurt her brain. “Where the hell did you hear that?” she asked, dumbfounded. “The sun doesn’t care what you are; it will still burn you and give you skin cancer if you stay out long enough. Now, put it on.”

“Damn.” Amo picked up the bottle. “All right, then.”

Her delivery might’ve been a little harsh after that rum runner, but at least she was getting them to do it.

Taking back her seat, she didn’t pay them any attention as they started slathering themselves.

“Can you do my back?”

Nadia drifted her eyes over. “Me?”

“Yes, you,” Amo said, like there wasn’t anyone else around who was perfectly capable of doing it.

Dante could be heard stirring for the first time in a long time.

Her eyes merely went back to her page as she flipped to the next one. “No, Leo can.”

“Hell no,” Amo told her. “He ain’t rubbing shit on my back.”

Rolling her eyes heavenward, she put her book back down. The downfall of big dudes was they had to look hard at all times. “You know, real friends rub SPF onto each other’s backs.”