Page 4 of That Time in Venice
“Anika.”
Her body reacted to the warm sound of his voice, the low, sexy sound echoing inside of her. Her nipples tightened. Her pulse jumped. Her entire being quivered, recognizing the voice of the man who’d given her exquisite memories one summer a longtimeago.
“Y-you live here now?” Anikaasked.
He nodded. “I moved from New York sixmonthsago.”
Laura glanced from one to the other. “So the two of you know each other?” she askedslowly.
Anika swallowed. “We—we haven’t seen each other in a long time. Years. Notsince…”
Reed’s jaw tightened at the unspoken words left dangling in the air. His jaw had often tightened under the weight of intense emotion—anger, sadness, ecstasy. Suddenly, the memories of fierce passion, inexhaustible and relentless, evoked heat in herinsides.
Her mind flashed back to heated whispers, her back pressed against a hard wall, and his hands beneath her skirt. His driving thrusts as he pinned her beneath him in bed, their hearts beating rapidly in synch, and their sweat-sprinkled bodies wrapped around each other during what had been, without a doubt, the best week of her life. An unbelievable, breathtaking six days inItaly.
Seven years, and she’d never forgotten that trip—orhim.
“That time in Venice,” he finishedforher.
Anika swallowed again, forcing back the constriction in her throat. What they’d shared had been so unexpected, starting out innocently enough before snowballing into an avalanche of emotion that almostbrokeher.
“Yeah,” she whispered. “Not sinceVenice.”
