Page 54 of Disarming Caine
I’d attempted to stay light through the conversation, so she wouldn’t be afraid of my feelings. But the serious look in her eye weighed on me.
Her smile broke slowly, reminding me of the way she looked at me when we were in Capri, when she first kissed me in that way I knew meant she loved me. No matter what words she would or would not say. “Yeah, I can do ten nights.”
“Molto bene.” My shoulders eased, and I wrapped my arms around her, feeling her relax as well. Kissing a cheek as I separated from her, I whispered in her ear, “When I’m home for good in April, we’ll have another discussion.”
She shoved me away playfully. “Time to get out of the dress yet?”
I stood, pulling her up with me. “Oh no, bella. Now, we dance.”
“Or...” She snuck a hand under my jacket, around my waist, then slid it down to my ass. Pressing against me, she squeezed, and ran her tongue along her upper lip. “We could dance later?”
Her heart hammered against my chest, and mine echoed it, the two competing for which could beat the fastest. Sure I would win that contest, I took her face in my hands and our lips touched. Softly, briefly.
“No.” I forced us apart with a wink. “I’m not finished wooing you.”
Chapter 18
Samantha
Ipulledintotheside lot of a small brown office building early Thursday afternoon. “I’ll be quick. Then we’ll head over to the hotel to pack.”
Antonio inspected the sign next to the sidewalk. “Are you here for the tax preparer, the designer, or the lawyer?”
After I’d put in a half-day of work, I’d swung by his place to pick him up. He’d argued about driving, I insisted my truck had more space for my things, and he’d rightly countered that I didn’t own enough to need much space. Still, he grudgingly went along with it.
“The interior designer.” I sucked in my bottom lip as his eyebrow cocked. It probably would have been wiser to come here before picking him up, so I wouldn’t have to go into details about Saturday. “I told you I was at Mason’s Gallery on Saturday?”
He nodded, hand traveling to grip mine.
“Rhonda spotted a painting in a real estate listing that she thought might be suspect. I thought I knew who owned the house, but Lucy texted me some new info this morning.” I pointed to the sign. “Felicia White owns White Cedar Interior Design and inherited the house where this painting is a couple of months ago.”
“And you intend to go in there and question her about it?”
“Rhonda went to their house, and apparently Felicia’s boyfriend was a real jerk to her. I figured talking to Felicia herself, away from him, might yield different results. I know, it’s not my job, but—”
“Stop. This is your passion, bella.” He brought the back of my hand to his lips. “What’s our cover story?”
“Our?”
“You don’t think I’m going to remain out in the cold and miss you interrogating some poor art criminal, do you?” He acted like it was a tease, but from the way his gaze darted to the scar at my hairline, I knew better. “We’re stronger as partners than as individuals.”
Energy pinged around inside me. Partners. He’d used the word over and over since Naples. I tried to hold back the foolishly happy smile, like I was a kid receiving praise from my mom, but I couldn’t help myself. His face mirrored mine and we leaned in for a brief kiss.
When we separated, he chuckled. “Married and looking to decorate our dining room, like when we were snooping at the gallery in Napoli?”
“Hold on.” I snatched my hand back. “That wasn’t our story.”
“It was. I just didn’t mention the married part.” He winked and I shoved him playfully. “Bella, she would assume from the rings, anyway.”
“I could take mine off.”
“Mine has not come off since you put it on my finger.”
“I take mine off every time I go climbing. It’s a safety hazard.”
He let out an overdramatic sigh. “Such the romantic.”
“Seriously, though, I just booked a rush consult with her. I didn’t give her any details. So almost anything goes.”
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