Page 63 of Say It Isn't So

My flight had been delayed.

Joann had gotten sick and wasn’t leaving her hotel room in London.

Alicia’s grandmother, who lived alone, had fallen down the stairs. One broken leg later, she had refused to go to a nursing facility for her recovery and rehab, so Alicia was on a plane home to be with her and try to talk some sense into her.

But what I think won the award for worst thing to happen—Angelo was here getting ready for theBellissimaparty tomorrow.

That meant no matter how badly I wanted to see Bianca, I had to push it all aside and attend the shows I was invited to.

That was the whole reason I was in Milan, after all—for work. And it worked out, too, because I got a big-name designer to sign with the blog for top banner ads for an entire year. That was as good as it got, in my opinion. Top banner ads were premium real estate on the site. Side banner ads were often overlooked, and center ones got caught in the middle of a blog, so people usually skipped right passed them. That was what I tried to communicate to all my potential advertisers, which was probably why top banners were the most popular for me.

Tonight I didn’t want to think about work, though, because I was finally out with Bianca. But not just Bianca. Her sisters and Perla’s husband, Frankie, who I’d first met back at the hotel when they’d picked me up, were coming, too. Even with it being a group thing, I was counting it as a win.

Bianca and I strolled behind the rest of the group as we walked up to the bar. She smelled like vanilla and jasmine and was temptation personified in a short black dress that hugged her in all the right places.

When we were out of earshot, I leaned over and whispered, “That dress is going to be the death of me.”

She bit the inside of her lip. “What would you say if I told you that’s exactly why I chose it?”

Stuffing my hands safely in my pockets, so I wouldn’t have to worry about being held accountable for my actions, I inhaled deeply. “I would say, you told your father we were just friends, and the thoughts I’m having right now about ripping that dress off of you aren’t ones I should be having for myfriend.”

Bianca’s hands came around my bicep and she moved close to me. So very close. “I wouldn’t hate it if we were friends with benefits,” she said, lashes aflutter.

It was an intriguing thought, but one I’d never entertained about Bianca. It felt wrong, like she deserved more. “Do you want to be friends with benefits?”

Volleying the question back to me, she asked, “Do you?”

That wasn’t a simple question, though—Angelo had made sure of that. “I keep telling myself that all I need is one kiss from you, that I’d be satisfied with that, but I know I’m being naïve.” We stopped walking then, just outside the bar, and I took her by her shoulders, letting my fingers run down the soft, exposed skin of her arms as I promised her, “Once I taste you, I’m going to need to finish you off, and then you’ll be mine.”

* * *

Bianca

My mind was screaming:Yes, yes, yes!That was all I wanted. Forget the bar, let’s go back to my room.

But as much as I liked Knox, it was complicated, and I didn’t think I had to remind you why.

Then I had to go and make things more complicated by saying we were just friends. Knox was right—the things I wanted him to do to me were anything but friendly.

I swallowed, and finally responded to his comment about making me his, deciding I rather enjoyed playing with fire—“Then you’re really not going to like this.” As he opened the door to the bar finally, letting me go first, I threw over my shoulder in a low voice, “I’m not wearing any underwear.”

* * *

Knox

She knew exactly what she was doing when she said that.

And the last thing I needed was for my buddy to salute everyone in the bar.

I raked a hand through my hair and walked beside her, in-sync with her steps once again, trying to think about anything but what was under that dress. Or rather what wasn’t. “What exactly are you trying to accomplish, Bianca?”

She gave me an innocent look.She’s anything but innocent.“I don’t know what you’re talking about, Knox.” Then she looked down and smiled before her eyes met mine again. “You might want to keep things under control, though. We wouldn’t want my family to. . . well, you know.”

Oh, that did it.

She thought she would try to break me tonight. But she had no idea the game she was playing.

“I ordered a round of shots,” Maria announced, her eyes landing on me. “But I ordered a beer for you and Frankie. Hope that’s okay.”

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