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“Yeah. Don’t be a loser, Matty,” Giovanna puts on a sing-song voice from somewhere behind me. It does the trick and with an exaggerated sigh, Matty bombs into the pool creating a mammoth splash. Immediately Massimo is on him, instigating some kind of underwater wrestling.

“Are you drowning?” Giovanna’s tone is sharp enough that I’m not sure if I would answer honestly even if I were about to drown. She stands in front of me, tall enough that the surface of the water bobs around mouth level.

“Swimming drunk is reckless,” she remarks dryly when I continue to doggy paddle on the spot to keep my head above water. “Swimming in a dress so tight you can’t use your legs, well that’s just stupid.”

“Are you going to help me or just provide running commentary for my untimely death?” I snap.

With an amused snort, Giovanna’s hands shoot out and grab my upper arms. Her hands engulf my pathetically small biceps and she tugs me into her body as if I weigh nothing at all.

“Hands on my shoulders,” she instructs and I’m relieved to be told what to do. It’s like touching her is so off-limits that I’m scared to do it without explicit permission.

“You’re welcome. No problem. Any time,” she says even though I haven’t thanked her. The twinkle in her eye hints at a playfulness I desperately want to unearth.

“Howevercan I repay you?” fluttering my eyelashes exaggeratedly, I hit her with some sarcasm of my own.

We are face to face as Giovanna walks us both backward to shallower waters. She looks like she is going to say something a few times, but doesn’t.

“I can think of a few ways,” she eventually mutters and gives me a half-smile that has my heart doing somersaults. The dimple in her cheek deepens and so does the molten pit in my tummy.

Changing the subject she asks, “Are you a bit of a rebel these days, Miss Rossi?”

“Ha! Not really. I mean, the last couple of years Massi and I have had heaps of fun, but I still held down a job and behaved myself mostly.” I’m not quite honest about how much of a homebody I am. I don’t want her to think I’m boring.

“What were you doing for work?” She is still slowly leading us around the pool, her hands holding onto my elbows to keep me steady. My fingers cling to her shoulders, but I wish I could pull myself closer and wrap an arm around her neck instead.

“Oh, nothing impressive. I did a six-month personal training certificate after I finished school. I just worked at a local gym.”

Gio’s eyes have softened but she frowns slightly at me. “Why do you say that isn’t impressive?”

“Well, look at me, I’m in a pool with three of the Marino siblings. I’m just a girl who worked an okay job that she didn’t hate. But it’s no career.”

Matty and Massimo are leaning against the side of the pool down the shallow end, speaking in low voices paying us no attention. I feel giddy; I have the full attention of Giovanna Marino.

Her wet hair is plastered back and it makes her sharp cheekbones look even more defined. She watches me trace their lines with my eyes.

I bite my bottom lip and now it is my turn to watch her eyes follow my movements. She can't help but lick her lips and smile slowly in response.

“Francesca?” her voice is a low growl and sounds like a warning and a question.

“Giovanna?” I breathe.

She swallows and shakes her head muttering, “Jesus Christ.”

Her hands move to my waist and she pulls me into a hug before immediately dragging us both under the water. When we come up she carries me in her arms over to the guys and drops me to my feet in the shallow water.

She can’t get away from me fast enough and I’m left with the memory of just those few seconds when I felt her chest against mine and her arms wrapped around me.

“Come on,cucciolotta,” Matteo’s voice snaps me out of my trance. Everyone is exiting the pool.

“Cucciolotta?”

He laughs. “That’s what we called you when you were a kid because you would follow Gio around like a little puppy dog. It was cute.”

My cheeks redden. Does everyone know just how long I have pined after Giovanna Marino?

Chapter Eight

Francesca