Page 31 of Italy Can Bite Me

Cristo, she feels good. Too good.

Our eyes lock, and I get hit with that captivating contradiction again. Fear flickers in her gaze, but it’s the defiant spark beneath that sends a thrill through my veins.

We’re so close I’m seeing amber-colored flecks in her irises and counting each perfect eyelash. Her lips part slightly, and my body reacts with a jolt of pure want. She relaxes into me, and my arms tighten, holding her steady. Safe.

“Perfetto!” Our captain’s joyful shout shatters the moment. “The lovers cannot be denied!”

He breaks into song. Not just any song—a full-throated, passionate rendition of “That’s Amore” complete with dramatic hand gestures that make me seriously question how he’s still steering the boat.

Katie jerks away, straightening her clothes like she can iron out the sexual tension crackling between us.

“You know, cara mia,” I say, sitting up on the seat. “I’ve been with many complicated women, but you—you’re a fucking masterpiece of mixed signals.”

Our enthusiastic captain stretches out his arm, presenting me with champagne and chocolate-covered strawberries, his eyebrows doing a playful waggle.

“Does everything have to be a seduction with you Italian men?” Katie huffs.

“We’re irresistible and unmatched in bed—it’s in our DNA.”

“Wrong on both counts.” Her eyes light up. “And trust me, women can get very good at faking it.”

“Is that what you do with your man?”

“Don’t talk about Jared.” Her eyes flicker.

I lean in, unleashing my bedroom eyes. “Interesting how you don’t deny it. Tell me, principessa, has anyone ever taken their time with you? Tasting and touching—making you fall apart piece by piece until you’re desperate, writhing, and begging for release?”

Her breath hitches. “Sex is overrated.”

“Tesoro, you wouldn’t say that after one night with me,” I say, my voice turning dark and promising. “I’d destroy you for any other man’s touch, and you’d never settle for mediocre again.”

Her thighs press together—a tiny tell that shoots straight to my groin. “If you think I’ll be your personal plaything just because you’re the only man here who doesn’t need Viagra, you’re out of your damn mind.”

“For a proper girl, you have a very filthy mouth.” My lips curl. “But I only tease. I am not serious. You need not worry because sex is off-limits.”

“It was never an option! I’m engaged.” She holds her binder up, hiding her breasts.

“Plenty of engaged women go looking for one last wild night.” I let my gaze drift over her curves. “And bella, I bet you’re magnificent when you let go. But I have one rule I never break—no hooking up with tourists on my tours.”

Something ignites in her emerald eyes—disappointment?—before she masks it. “Never?”

“Never.”

“Perfect.” Her chin lifts in defiance, but I detect the slight quiver of her bottom lip. “Finally we agree on something. No sex.”

Fucking hell.I never should have told her about my goddamn rule. The words just tumbled out, and now I’m sensing that tiny spark of possibility fade from her eyes. Why does her quick agreement feel like a kick to the gut?

And why the hell do I care?

Katie sets down that soul-sucking binder and picks up a strawberry. Watching her lips wrap around the chocolate-dipped fruit has me swallowing hard and shifting in my seat.

“So what’s in there anyway?” I nod at the binder, trying to distract myself from inappropriate thoughts about her mouth. “I think I earned a peek, considering I saved both your lives.”

She swallows, leaving a smudge of chocolate at the corner of her mouth that I desperately want to lick away. “Ideas and poses for pictures to show my fiancé what I’m doing. Different vacation itinerary things.”

“And where’s Prince Charming while you’re touring my beautiful country?”

“London. He’s opening a new exhibit at the Natural History Museum.” Her voice falters slightly.

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