Page 159 of My Italian Love Affair

I swallow hard, something unfamiliar twisting in my chest.

We sit there in silence for a long moment, the quiet hum of the city below us filling the space.

The sun is dipping lower now, casting its warm light over his sharp features, making his dark eyes gleam.

And when he finally turns to me, his gaze dark and unreadable, I know what’s coming.

I don’t stop him as he leans in.

His lips brush mine first, testing, teasing.

Then again, firmer this time, like he’s searching for something neither of us knows how to say.

A small sound escapes me, and Matteo takes it as permission, tilting his head and deepening the kiss. His hand slides to the nape of my neck, his thumb pressing just beneath my jaw, and heat flares low in my stomach.

It’s slow. Deep. Lingering.

And for the first time, I don’t think about what will happen when I leave.

I just let myself be here.

Chapter Forty-One

Daphne

The drive back is quieter than before, a comfortable kind of silence stretching between us.

One of Matteo’s hands rests on the steering wheel, the other on my bare thigh, his fingers tracing absentminded patterns against my skin. Every so often, I catch him glancing over at me with something unreadable in his eyes.

I should probably go home. That would be the sensible thing to do.

But when he asks, voice low and laced with something I can’t quite decipher -

“Come home with me?”

- I don’t even think before I say yes.

*

Matteo’s home isn’t in the city centre like I expected it to be.

Instead, he drives us further out, winding through quieter roads, past olive groves and rolling hills, the sky now a deep indigo overhead.

The further we go, the more I realise just how different his world is from mine-

And then we turn onto a private tree-lined driveway.

His house - no, hismansion- is breathtaking. All soft stone and towering archways, the kind of place that looks like it belongs in a luxury travel magazine.

The entire property is framed by high stone walls and wrought-iron gates, giving it a secluded, almost secretive feel.

The long driveway curves around an elegant fountain, and as Matteo slows the car, I glance around, taking it all in.

“This is yourhome?”

My voice comes out higher than I intend, and Matteo grins, clearly amused.

“You sound surprised.”

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