Chapter 3

• He disappears, and Enrico turns back to me with a satisfied smile. “What am I feeding you, bella? You need energy for dancing.”
• I giggle and open my menu, this is the best night of my life. “Pasta,” I remind him.
• “Ah, yes.” His eyes dance with delight. “That’s right. Pasta it is.”
• “So, tell me about yourself.” He drops his chin onto his hand as his elbow rests on the table. “What is the Olivia Reynolds story?”
• We’ve eaten, drank two bottles of wine, and now we’re sitting in the darkened courtyard, fairy lights are lighting up the space and the music now soft and romantic. I’m feeling very tipsy indeed.
• “Well.” I sip my wine. “I’m here on a holiday… I guess to try and find myself.”
• “Are you lost?”
• “Perhaps.” I smile bashfully across the table at him.
• “Why?”
• “I don’t know.” I contemplate his question. “I feel like I’m searching for something, but I don’t know what it is yet. I’m here to try and figure that out.”
• He gives me a slow sexy smile. “Maybe it’s me. Maybe you’re looking for an Enrico Ferrara?”
• “Oh yes, that’s the logical answer, how many of you are there?” I giggle.
• “Just one.” He smiles. “One is enough.”
• “How long have you lived in Rome?”
• “About ten years. I moved here when I joined the police force. Where do you live in Australia?”
• “Sydney. Have you ever been?”
• “No, it’s on my list, though. I don’t travel far.”
• “Really, why not? I love to travel.”
• “I prefer Italy. I travel around Europe regularly, but Australia is a long way from here. How long does it take to travel there by plane?”
• “Twenty-one hours.”
• “Twenty-one hours,” he scoffs. “On a plane? You must be crazy, woman.”
• I giggle at his horror. “We’re used to it. Australia is on the opposite side of the world from everywhere. If we want to travel, it’s a twenty-four-hour plane trip to most places. That, combined with the terrible jetlag from time zones, it turns a lot of people off.”
• He frowns and sips his drink. “Do you work at home?”
• “Yes, I’m a fashion designer.”
• He smiles, as if surprised. “Really?”
• “Uh-huh.”
• “What do you design?”
• I shrug, embarrassed. “Well, I’m designing pyjamas at the moment for Kmart.”
• “Kmart?” He frowns.
• “It’s a department store.”
• “What pyjamas would you put me in?” he asks. I watch his tongue dart out as he sips his drink, and my sex clenches in appreciation.
• “I don’t think pyjamas would do you justice. I imagine your birthday suit is enough.”
• His eyes have a tender glow to them as he watches me, and my heart constricts in my chest. He really is a beautiful man.
• Embarrassed by my forwardness, I change the subject. “But it’s only temporary. I would love to work in fashion one day. That’s the ultimate dream.”
• “Who’s your favorite designer?”
• “Umm, let’s see.” I narrow my eyes. “Valentino or Dolce and Gabbana.”
• “And you’ve applied to both of those houses?”
• “Yes. Nothing back from them yet, though.”
• “One day,” he replies.
• I smile. “One day.”
• “Finish your drink, bella. I’m taking you dancing.”
• “Bella?” I frown. God, he doesn’t even remember my name.
• He takes my hand over the table and lifts it to his mouth. “Bella means beautiful.”
• He kisses my fingertips. “And you really are very beautiful, Olivia. I can’t take my eyes off of you.”
• Oh, I like him.
• “To be honest, I’m having a hard time staying on my side of the table. I want us to dance so I can have you in my arms,” he says softly.
• Nerves dance in my stomach. “Then take me dancing, Mr. Ferrara,” I whisper.
• He smiles darkly, tips his head back, and he drains his glass. “Let’s go.”
• Three hours later and the room is spinning to the sound of my laughter. Enrico and I are dancing and he’s throwing me around like a rag doll. He is holding me by the hand and is spinning me around and around.
• We’ve drunk way too much, and now it’s late—3:00 a.m., to be precise—and we’ve come to our third bar of the night. I don’t remember the last time I laughed so much. He’s funny, smart, and seriously gorgeous. He’s also making me feel like the most beautiful woman in the world.
• I couldn’t tell you if anyone else is here, because all I can see is him.
• He’s the epitome of tall, dark, and handsome, with his square jaw, dark, wavy hair, and the biggest brown eyes I have ever seen. His lips are pouty and a beautiful shade of red. He has this joyfulness that seeps out of him, as if he doesn’t have a care in the world. His laugh is loud, echoing, and his voice has a deep huskiness that speaks to something deep inside of me.
• A slow song comes on. Enrico pulls me close and wraps his arms around me. “Finally,” he whispers as he kisses my temple.
• “Finally?” I smile, liking the way his lips feel on me.
• “Finally, a slow song that allows me to hold you close.”
• He towers above me. He’s so tall that I only come up to his shoulder. One of my hands is in his, while he holds me by the waist with his other. The air between us is electric. My heart is pumping hard and fast.
• What would it be like to have sex with a virile, intense man like this?
• Imagine fucking him.