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‘Wait.’ I stopped in my tracks. ‘So, you are here at a beautiful World Heritage Site at one of the most ancient and prettiest towns in Italy,’ I gestured at thetrulli, ‘and instead of asking me to tell you more about the history or language related to the houses, you want me to teach you curse words?’

‘Yep!’ she replied without hesitation and I laughed.

‘Va bene. What words would you like to learn?’

‘Whatever you want to teach me.’ She tilted her head, and wrapped a strand of hair around her finger.

‘I am sure there are many things I could teach you, so you need to be more specific…’

A jolt of electricity shot straight to my dick.

‘Cazzo!’ I said quickly, chastising myself.

When Samantha said she wanted me toteachher, she was referring to Italian, not something sex-related. And anyway, I was sure a confident woman like her had no trouble knowing what to do in the bedroom.

‘Ooh, what does that mean?’ She grinned and I dragged my mind out of the gutter.

‘Cazzoliterally means dick, but we use it to say fuck.’

‘What like, having sex?’

My dick twitched again. What was wrong with me? I had thought about sex more in the past two minutes speaking with Samantha than I had in weeks.

‘No.Fuckas in,damn, shit,that kind of thing.To fuckin a sexual way is… anyway.’ I stopped.

Samantha bit her lip and the sight made my pulse race.

This conversation was wandering into dangerous territory and I did not like the thoughts that were now flooding my mind.

‘That is your Italian lesson for today. Come, I want to show you Trullo Sovrano. It is the only two-storeytrulloin the town. It was built by a rich priest’s family and it is like a museum and it has a shop to buy souvenirs. I am sure you will like it.’

‘Okay!’

As I led Samantha further along the street, I exhaled.

That was close.

I had almost crossed a boundary, but pulled back just in time.

Now I needed to stay professional for another hour and forty-five minutes.

I would be fine.

I had to be.

My job and future depended on it.

15

SAMMIE

It was official.

I was a terrible person.

I was in a beautiful town in Italy and instead of focusing on the gorgeous traditional whitewashed conical-roofed houses, my mind was firmly in the gutter.

As we wandered down the pretty little streets, although I was thinking about how cute everything was, most of my thoughts were dominated by how great Romeo smelt and how amazing his muscular arms looked in his branded dark-blue T-shirt.