Page 50 of Italian Weddings

She closed her eyes, chest shifting with the force of her breathing. But he was no longer throbbing with need for her. Something more essential and basic had taken over, something that required him to think, and fix.

“That was thoughtless of me,” he said, admitting, for possibly the first time in his life, that his actions had the potential to hurt someone. Without his meaning to, he’d flaunted an ex-lover in the face of Emilia, and she was clearly unimpressed.

“It was just you,” she corrected. “You’re a playboy.

You always will be. You fuck around like most people eat out.

You must have hundreds of women in your past, and seeing them is inevitable.

And I hate that it bothers me. I hate that I hate it.

I hate that I care.” Her voice wobbled a little on the last word, so he closed his eyes and sucked that in. Really heard what she was saying.

What she wasn’t saying.

The admission neither of them wanted to make.

Until now.

“This is getting out of hand,” he admitted. “You’re not the only one who sees that.”

She took a couple of steps away from the door, towards him. “What does that mean?”

“I’m in your apartment,” he said, gesturing with his palm to the space beyond them. “I’m breaking the rules. Maybe the rules were always going to be impossible to hold, I don’t know. But what started off as something fun and light is just…different now.”

“You’re not having fun?”

“That’s not what I said. I want you more than I like.

I think about you all the time. I have never been with a woman who’s gotten under my skin like this.

And I kept telling myself it was because of who you are, and the fact this is totally off-limits.

But the thing is, it’s not. It’s you. You are under my skin.

Not because you’re a Valentino, but because you make me feel things I didn’t know I was capable of.

I’ve had sex with a lot of women, and I can’t change that.

Up until this moment, I didn’t think I’d ever want to.

But, when you see me with someone like Becca, please remember, you are literally the only woman who has driven me to despair by disappearing from my life.

You are the only woman I have ever begged for a second chance.

You are different, Emilia. And that scares the shit out of me. ”

He closed the distance between them, needing to drag her into his arms then, to feel her against his body, holding her there like he could hug her into understanding.

To his relief, she let him. She let him pull her against his chest, and keep her there.

To press a kiss to her forehead, and breathe in her sweet, vanilla scent.

And after a moment, her hands reached out and wrapped around his back, keeping him just where he was.

“Well, that I didn’t expect,” she said, on a small, husky laugh.

“No? Did you think I’d just let you block me out?”

“I didn’t think you’d care,” she admitted.

“Didn’t you? Come on, Emilia. Surely even without me saying it, you’ve seen how much this thing has grown and changed? You’re not what I thought you were, and this…this isn’t what I thought it would be.”

She nodded slowly, so her hair tickled his jaw. But he didn’t move away, because he didn’t want to put any distance between them. Not when it felt so good to have her right here, like this.

“What does that mean?”

It was the kind of question he usually would have run a mile from.

Nothing meant anything. That was his modus operandi.

Ever since he’d broken a girl’s heart and learned nothing felt worse than that.

Especially when she’d gone on to try to commit suicide, and left a note blaming him.

He’d run a thousand miles from anything like commitment ever since, making sure he kept things safe and light, rather than risk inflicting that hurt on someone again.

“This has no future,” he said, voice gruff. But he needed to state that fact. They both needed to remember the truth of who they were. “You’re a Valentino,” he reminded her—and himself. “And I’m a Santoro. We know this has to end.”

Strangely, though, he found himself half holding his breath, as if waiting to hear her argue that point.

Almost as though he wanted her to. “I know,” she agreed, softly, then tilted her face to his.

“I hate you.” But she was smiling at him, showing that she didn’t feel that way, and his gut rolled with something sharp and intense. “Don’t you forget it.”

He pressed a kiss to her forehead. “The feeling’s mutual.”

“So what?” she said, after a few more moments of silence.

Salvatore was uncharacteristically hesitant.

But the longer he thought about it, the longer he knew that the only option was to stick with their original plan.

They had to end this when they’d agreed.

“We give this thing two more weeks,” he said, quietly.

“But we stop pretending it’s just sex.” Panic slipped a little inside of his chest. Because he’d spent ten years of his life backing away from anything approaching emotion, but here he was, opening himself up to the possibility of hurting Emilia.

The one person he couldn’t bear to wound.

Or maybe they’d already crossed that line?

She’d looked hurt tonight. Hurt and upset, because she’d seen him talking to another woman.

“What if we go away for a while?” He suggested, the idea forming rapidly, but taking complete hold.

She glanced up at him. “Go away where?”

“I have a yacht in a port just north of Athens. Let’s go there and just float around for a few days.”

“God, that sounds good,” she admitted, but slowly, shaking her head. “But the whole Moricosian thing…”

“The Med is closer to Moricosia than America, you’ll be on the same time zone. And you can work from the yacht.” Vitally, there’d be no outside influences. No other women, no reminders of their families. Just them, and the time and space to explore each other fully.

“But my team is here?—,”

“Remember Covid?” He reminded her. “You can work with your team remotely for a few days, surely?”

She massaged her lower lip with her teeth, so his insides fired to life.

He wanted to drag that lip into his mouth, to kiss her until neither of them could think straight.

He caught her face with both hands and held her steady for his inspection.

“We have two weeks, Emilia. Come away with me a while. Let’s make the most of this. ”

Her eyes were awash with emotions he didn’t comprehend. He could practically hear the gears of her brain turning as she thought about that. “Two nights,” she murmured. “And then I have to get back to reality.”

“Deal.”