Chapter 2

• He sits down opposite me and steeples his hands under his chin. His eyes are assessing me. “Come ti chiami?”
• I don’t know what he just said, but fuck, it sounded good. “I don’t speak Italian, I’m sorry.”
• “What is your name?” he repeats in English.
• “Oh.” I shake my head, flustered. Honestly, this guy needs to go away, I’m embarrassing myself here. “Olivia Reynolds.”
• He picks up my hand across the table and slowly kisses the backs of my fingers, leaving me to watch on. “Olivia,” he purrs. “What a beautiful name.”
• Oh jeez. “Thank you.”
• We stare at each other, and my heart is beating hard in my chest from the feeling of his lips. A trace of a smile crosses his mouth, and he’s clearly amused by my physical reaction to him.
• Annoyed with myself, I snatch my hand away and open my menu. Unexpectedly, he does the same.
• “What would you like to eat, bella?”
• You. I would like to eat you. “What would you suggest?” I ask casually as I pretend to read through the choices. I can’t see a thing. I have double vision from the smell of his aftershave. Why does he smell so good?
• He raises his brow at me. “You like meat?”
• I swallow the lump in my throat. “Yes.”
• His eyes drop to my lips, and I feel my insides clench.
• Okay…what the actual hell is going on here? This guy is insanely sexual.
• “When was your last meal?”
• I look up into his stare…what are we talking about here? Food? Sex? It’s been twelve hours since food and twelve months since sex.
• I’m basically fucking starving in all areas. “Too long.”
• Arousal flares in his eyes, and I know in that very second that we are talking about sex.
• He sits back and steeples his hands under his chin again. “You’re beautiful. Where are you from?”
• “Australia.”
• “Where is your man?”
• I frown. “I haven’t met him yet.”
• Our eyes lock as tension bounces between us. I’ve never encountered a sexual attraction to someone like this before. You read about it, but it’s never actually happened to me.
• I break the silence. “Where is your… other half?”
• “I don’t have one.”
• “Oh.” I pretend to read the menu once more.
• “What are you doing in Rome?” he asks.
• “I’m on vacation.”
• “Alone?”
• “No. My girlfriends are back at the hotel,” I lie. Rule 101: never tell anyone you are travelling alone. See, Mom, I do remember some rules.
• “Why are you here alone… in this bar?”
• “You’re very nosey.” He frowns as if not understanding the term. “Inquisitive,” I add.
• “I don’t understand.”
• “You want to know everything.”
• He breaks out into a broad beautiful smile. “I do.” He reaches over and picks up a piece of my shoulder length, honey-blonde hair. “So fair,” he says. “Is your hair fair like this everywhere?”
• I swallow the lump in my throat as my heart has an epileptic fit.
• He smiles as if fascinated and takes my face in his hands. “Blue eyes.”
• “The opposite to you,” I breathe.
• “Opposites attract.” His eyes drop to my lips again.
• Okay, what the actual fuck is going on here?
• I pull out of his grip and open the menu in a fluster. “The food,” I remind him.
• He sits back, clearly annoyed that I pulled away from him. “I already know what you are eating tonight.”
• “You do?”
• His eyes hold mine. “And so do you.”
• I begin to hear my heartbeat pounding in my ears. Is he thinking what I’m thinking? “What’s that?”
• “Pasta.”
• “Pasta?” I frown.
• “Yes, of course. What did you think I meant?”
• I giggle and refill my glass.
• “What were you thinking, Olivia?”
• “I don’t know. You have me all flustered.”
• He frowns. “Flustered?” I can see him trying to translate the word. “Like a chicken? You mean plucked?”
• I laugh. “Yes, plucked like a chicken.”
• He smiles and holds his glass up to clink it with mine. “I hope to pluck you many more times tonight, Olivia.”
• The word play between P and F has never been so high. I smile goofily as we stare at each other, electricity buzzes between us, our glasses touch.
• I need to change the subject. “What do you do for work, Enrico?”
• “Poliziotto.”
• “Huh?”
• “Policeman?”
• “Ah.” I smile. “Law enforcer.”
• “Yes.”
• I feel myself relax a little. If he’s a policeman, I’m safe.
• A man approaches the table and says something in Italian. Enrico answers him, and then turns to me.
• “Olivia, meet my brother Andrea.”
• “Hello.” I smile as we shake hands.
• “Hello, nice to meet you.” He smiles. He’s slightly younger than Enrico, but with the same gorgeous bloodline: dark hair, olive skin, and big brown eyes. He, too, is deliciously handsome, though in a completely different way to his brother. He seems softer but the family resemblance is strong.
• “Andrea is a doctor here in Rome,” Enrico says proudly.
• “Oh, wow, that’s amazing.” I begin to feel at ease. He’s a cop and his brother is a doctor. Maybe Enrico isn’t a serial killer after all.
• “Thank you. Are you English?” Andrea asks.
• “Australian.”
• “Ah, I see.” He smiles and turns to his brother. “Are you coming with me, Rico, or are you staying? I have to go now. I have work in the morning.”
• Rico. They call him Rico. I like that.
• Enrico’s eyes come back to me. “No, I’m going to eat pasta with Olivia, and then show her why I’m the best dancer in all of Italy.”
• Andrea rolls his eyes, and I smile into my drink.
• Sounds so fun.
• “All right then, good luck, Miss Olivia.” Andrea bends to kiss my cheeks. “You will need it. It was nice to meet you.”
• “Goodbye, Andrea.”