Page 50 of His to Keep
There was something super sexy about a well-dressed man and this guy ticked all the boxes. He was pristine, bordering on pretty and his wolffish smirk hinted sinner rather than saint.
Thick russet waves tumbled over his forehead, teasing the back of his collar and his olive skin glowed with a natural depth of mystery. He released her from his steadying grip and nodded respectfully.
“It was a pleasure bumping into you, bella signora.” He cleared his throat and winked. “That means pretty lady.”
Lana’s toes curled right into her sandals. “And you.” She spun around and clopped back to the kitchen. The noise of her sandals echoed off the tiled floor in direct competition with her quicken heartbeat.
Her insides clenched with a beguiling burn. He wasn’t Marcus, nor did he cast a captivating spell, but nonetheless, he was fascinating and Italian.
In reality, it didn’t matter one iota if he was hung like a horse or as hot as sin because the cracks in her heart were too deep to repair. Any possibilities of a holiday affair were too farfetched after Marcus dropped her fragile heart into the flames.
Back in the kitchen, Alberto clapped his hands, geeing up the service as they skilfully stacked plates in their palms and on their forearms.
Freddy peered up from the stove. “What’s wrong, honey? You look a little flustered.”
She fanned her face with a napkin. “I literally just bumped into a tall, dark and handsome Italian.”
He dabbed his forehead with a cloth. “Really? He must be one of the guests. Do you think you’d jump his bones?”
“No!” The idea wasn’t absurd. She wasn’t ready to jump into bed with anyone, let alone a guy who looked like he swaggered out of a glossy magazine, as if by magic, like the universe was offering him up on a plate, with a side order of ‘fuck me hard’.
“It’s okay, honey. You’re allowed to fancy other men. It’s inevitable.”
Her head tilted while she sprayed disinfectant on the steel counter top. “He took me by surprise, that’s all.”
Freddy wiped up the wet cleaning fluid and removed all traces of the perfect lunch he created. “He’s clearly got you all hot and bothered.” He looked up at her rosy cheeks and flashed a mischievous smirk that gleamed in his eyes like amber tree sap in the sunshine.
Her arms covered her chest. “It’s not like that. He stopped me from falling over when I crashed into him. It was more awkward than steamy.”
Freddy tapped his cheek. “Hmm. Let’s get tidied up, and then we’ll investigate.”
* * *
Jamie was on the terrace,surrounded by smartly dressed men who chatted in fluent Italian. With the mysterious dark ocean as his backdrop, his presence exuded power like Poseidon, god of the sea.
Lana wondered if Marcus was bilingual too. Those unwanted thoughts kept springing up out of nowhere, just to remind her of what she didn’t have.
Freddy and Lana hid a few yards away, lingering with intent behind a broad pillar. The aim was covert surveillance with the task of observing the men as they talked business. They took turns, peering around the white column.
“Look. There he is,” she whispered, standing on her tip toes, stretching out her neck. “That’s the guy.” Lana pointed to the dark-haired male beside Jamie.
“Hellooooo. He’s edible. Like sugary candyfloss on a big, long, thick stick.” Freddy sighed with a dreamy expression.
He angled back around to face her with their sides pinned to the plaster, face to face.
“Let’s head out this afternoon. Jamie owns a hotel nearby with a roof top bar and an amazing resident DJ.” His hands formed prayer position, pleading to the fun girl lurking inside her.
She squeezed his arm, letting out a shrill burst of excitement. “Okay. I think I’m ready to party again. I feel really good today.”
A husky voice came from the other side of the pillar. A twinkling pair of grey eyes came into view.
“I’d love to go with you, bella signora.” The handsome Italian stranger moved into their hiding place. An impish smirk danced on his freshly shaved face.
Lana gulped. Clearly their attempt at discretion failed on an epic level. Her cheeks went from pale, to pink, in zero to thirty seconds.
“Are you going to Sunrise?” he asked with a silky timbre.
Freddy reached out his hand, sensing Lana’s inability to string words together. “I’m Freddy, and this is Lana.”
