Page 9 of Her Dirty Secret

His eyes are alight with the passion he used to describe himself earlier. It pulls at something inside of me, and I can hardly believe I’m sitting here, on my way to Italy, next to this impossibly gorgeous man who just twenty-four hours ago I had pegged as a selfish asshole. Which he may yet be, should the opportunity present itself. But I’m starting to realize that he’s so much more complex than that.

We are alike in our changing moods. But I sense, also like me, Alessandro is loyal to those he cares about. And while I don’t expect we’ll come to care for each other that deeply, it makes him that much more attractive. Though I don’t miss that he hasn’t so much as kissed me, or the implication that it’s my impulsiveness that inspired him to bring me along. Sure, he’s flirted, but being just as big of a flirt, I know how empty that can be. Because I basically told the man I’d have sex with him, and he’s done nothing about it.

If I were smarter that would reassure me. As it is, I can’t help but feel a little disappointed. I push the feeling down, determined to enjoy myself no matter what this trip does or does not bring. To just appreciate the experience and go with the flow.

To that end, we spend a while longer getting to know each other. He’s smart with a sharp wit, and is more of a balance between risk-taker and playing it safe than I am. But then, he outstrips me in both years and life experience. I can’t decide if it’s intimidating or sexy. But then, why can’t it be both?

* * *

I must have drifted off, because the next thing I know Alessandro is nudging me awake.

“We’ve landed,” he says softly.

“Holy shit,” I cry, springing up. “We’re in Paris?”

Alessandro laughs. “You sleep like the dead. And yes. Have you been before?”

I lean over him to look out the window. “No,” I reply softly. “This is officially the first time I’ve been out of North America.”

Alessandro catches my face, turning it toward him. “Then I’m sorry we won’t have time to see Paris. It’s quite beautiful,” he says softly, and in a way that makes me feel like it’s not just Paris he’s talking about.

“Some other time,” I say without thinking.

A small smile flits across his face. “Some other time.”

We collect our things and make the transition to our next flight seamlessly. And this time when we land, I’m wide awake. I can’t drink in the sights around me fast enough.

As we take a taxi to the meeting point, I’m bouncing in my seat with anticipation. I barely have time to soak any of it in when we’re out of the car and Alessandro is jumping into a hug with a huge group of people.

For a few minutes there’s simply a lot of gesticulating, shouting, and back-clapping embraces. Amid the chaos I count eight men and three women. Two of the three women are clearly attached to men in the group. The third, not so much, at least not based on the looks and touches she gives Alessandro as they greet each other. It annoys me immediately. While I’m still not sure if anything would happen between us, I’m not that girl who competes for a man’s attentions.

Before I can think too much more about it, Alessandro pulls me into the fold and introduces me. I’m horrible with names as it is, but I know I’ll never remember all of them. Except her. Valentina. She’s gorgeous in a way I’ll never be, curved and feminine in all the places I’m flat and lacking. Being “willowy” has never made me so self-conscious.

We pile into three tiny cars. Alessandro sits beside me, rubbing my leg reassuringly.

“Will you all speak Italian the whole time?” I ask quietly.

He smiles so widely it crinkles the corners of his eyes. “Mi dispiace,” he says. “I’m sorry. But yes, they probably will.”

I smile vaguely. “Oh, well, I’m sure I’ll be fine,” I murmur.

He leans close. “Don’t worry, they all can speak English. I’ve asked them to try to remember to speak it around you as much as possible.” He kisses me on the forehead.

On.

The.

Fucking.

Forehead.

Bryce kisses me on the forehead. My grandpa kisses me on the forehead. Instantly, my mood flips.

“So, you and Valentina,” I spit out. His eyebrows fly up at my asinine tone. “You dated? Dating? Or is she another wife you conveniently forgot to mention?”

The guy in the front passenger seat shoots a look back at Alessandro. His jaw tightens, and he shakes his head at me and looks away. I’ve clearly insulted him. I should be sorry for reminding him about the estranged wife he hid from Sera while they were dating, as it’s so far in the past and had nothing to do with me, but I’m not.

So I spend my time looking out the window as darkness settles in. Thankfully, it’s not a long drive.

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