Page 123 of Italy Can Bite Me

The last time I pulled her away, I dragged her into a Hard Rock dressing room. My body was on fire then. Now… it’s an inferno of need and desperation.

The moment we clear the gift shop doors onto the sidewalk, Katie spins to face me. “Well, well, well. Ready to stop being an idiot and admit you’re in love with me?” She puckers those sinful lips, clearly thinking she’s won.

My cock stirs at her boldness, but I force out, “Katie—”

“No?” She taps her chin thoughtfully, and Cristo, even that simple gesture is erotic torture. “Guess I’ll try a different approach. Maybe take a nice, long swim at the hotel later.”

Madre di Dio. She takes a step closer and trails a single finger down my chest.

“You remember my bikini? The black one with barely any fabric. You couldn’t keep your eyes off me. And then it was your hands that couldn’t get enough—”

“You can’t marry him!”

Her seductive smile vanishes. “Excuse me?”

“Jared. You can’t marry that stronzo.”

“Oh, this should be good.” Her eyes narrow to deadly slits. “Explain to me how you get to reject me but still control my life. I’m dying to hear that logic.”

“He doesn’t understand you!” I grab her shoulders, needing her to listen. “He barely acknowledges your existence. But I see you, Katie. The real you. The woman who makes my blood burn. Who challenges me to break every rule I’ve ever made.”

This isn’t how this was supposed to go. Every word is another reason why she belongs with me, not him.

“How can you marry someone who doesn’t worship the ground you walk on?”

“God, stop acting like I’m some kind of prize, Matteo. You want to know the truth? I’m the office joke—the family disappointment. The friend everyone tolerates,” she says, her voice splintering as she points to herself. “This? This obsessive, controlling, binder-loving mess? People mock me for it. They have my whole life. ‘You’re alot,Katie. Too organized. Too intense…’” She swallows hard. “‘Too much.’”

Her voice cracks. “You made me feel seen. Respected. Like my crazy was… beautiful. Surprise, surprise, you’re no different—rejecting who I am and ripping my heart out as you abandon me.”

My chest caves in. I need to tell her. Need to explain about the bank, the loan, how I’ve failed at everything except loving her.

“Matteo Monti! Still the ultimate ladies’ man, I see!”

Fucking merda.

Antonio’s voice slices through the bustling tourist chatter like judgment day, that red Italy Express polo blinding in the bright, noonday shine. Panic turns my blood to ice.

Not like this. She can’t find out like this.

“I’m Antonio, and you are… an especially bellissima woman.” His eyes crawl over Katie like slime, and my hands curl into fists.

“Katie Crawford,” I grit out. “From my tour group.”

“Best guide in the business, right?” Antonio’s smile is all teeth.

“He thinks so.” Katie’s voice could freeze lava.

“She’s not feeling well.” I try to steer her away. “Needed some air—”

“Say no more!” Antonio starts to leave but turns back, twisting the knife. “Oh, and get ready to live in that gift shop. Just scored ten percent kickback on all Italy Express sales. We’re going to be swimming in euros!” His grin widens. “It’ll be old times all over again. See you tomorrow. Welcome back to the family, number one!”

The second he’s gone, Katie detonates. “Tomorrow! I am such a fucking idiot. You never planned on us spending two weeks together.”

She storms off, rushing into a nearby alley.

“Katie, wait! Please, Bella—”

“Don’t.” She whirls on me, tears making her eyes glimmer like broken glass. “Don’t you dare ‘bella’ me. Every word you’ve said was complete bullshit.”

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