Page 18 of Italy Can Bite Me

“You think I’m hot?”

“I think you’re trouble.”

“The hot kind of trouble?”

“The kind that should come with a warning label.”

“Yet you’re still standing here, tempting fate.”

She’s fighting a grin now, and I’m not even trying to hide mine. Cristo. I haven’t had this much fun verbally sparring with a woman since… maybe ever.

And, damn.She’s even more gorgeous when she smiles.

Then my eyes catch her name tag and… checkmate.Fuck. She’s with my tour group. The one where I have a strict no-sleeping-with-tourists policy because the worst possible thing for my struggling company is that kind of complication.

Although why someone who barely looks old enough to rent a car is on a senior citizens’ tour is a mystery that I’m suddenly desperate to solve.

“I’ll get his attention.Scusi!”I reach past her to flag down the bartender just as she turns, and—shit—my open palm brushes across her breasts, sending her name tag fluttering to the bar top.

“What the hell!” She recoils, arms crossing over her chest as if it’s armor. “Did you seriously try to cop a feel?”

“No! I was just—the barman—didn’t mean to—”

Shit. I’m stammering like a virgin in a strip club.

“Use my boobs as target practice?”

“I would never—” I rake a hand through my hair, desperately trying to recover some dignity. “Katie, you’re going to laugh when I explain this.”

Her eyes narrow to dangerous slits. “How do you know my name?”

“It’s on the name tag.” I hold up the sticky label—my peace offering.

She keeps those arms locked across her chest, glaring at me like I might make another attempt. Which, fair enough. But also? I’m not usually this fucking clumsy. Something about this woman has my game completely sideways.

“Let me make it up to you with dinner?” The words come out smoother than I feel, which is a fucking miracle considering my brain’s still short-circuiting from that accidental handful.

“If you’re that desperate to get laid, the gorgeous strawberry blonde over there currently holding court with half the men in Milan is single and very ready to mingle.” She jerks her chin toward the crowd. “Fair warning though—she’s got some wild theories about cosmic orgasms and sacred body exploration.”

My smirk slides back into place. “Maybe I prefer my women with a little more… challenge.”

“Goodbye… whatever your name is.”

“Matteo,” I supply, thoroughly amused by her righteous indignation.

“Goodbye, Matteo. It wasnotnice meeting you. Don’t worry, I’ll forget you existed by breakfast tomorrow.”

She spins away, all offended dignity and swaying hips that are doing absolutely nothing to help the situation in my pants.

I signal the bartender for another drink. Miss Uptight doesn’t know it yet, but she’s going to be seeing a lot more of me over the next two weeks.Should I warn her?

Nah. Where’s the fun in that?

CHAPTER FOUR

KATIE

Mom:What about sending Jared a quick text? Something casual like, “Hi, hope you’re doing well!”

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