Page 34 of The Sting of Love
“I would love that.”
“Wonderful.” She claps her hands together and stands.
“I better pack.” I straighten up.
She nods with approval. “I guess you better do that.”
It’s six. I don’t have much time left. It’s about an hour to Donny’s place. I’ll get everything together and leave at seven.
* * *
“Gira a sinistra,” Donny says with emphasis on the last word. He’s been teaching me a few Italian words, and I absolutely suck.
He’s telling me how to sayturn left, but I just can’t get the pronunciation.
“Gira asinisetraraaaa.” I burst out laughing, and so does he.
I love his laugh and the way his hair falls over his eye when he tilts it to the side. The wind picks it up a little, and he runs a hand through it, shaking his head.
“Bella, Jesus. You’re gonna have to stick with me a little longer. Think of the sinistra like Frank Sinatra, but there’s an ‘i’ and a ‘s’ in between the words instead of the ‘a’.”
“Sinistra.” I try again, and he gives me two thumbs up.
“Yes. Perfetto.” He chuckles.
“I got there in the end.” I smile, stabbing the last piece of steak on my plate with my fork.
He watches me as I eat it, pretty much the same way he watched me all night. I’ve been here for over three hours, and we’ve already had sex twice.
Instead of the little black dress I had on, I’m wearing one of his shirts now, and we’re out on the terrace eating the last of the feast he cooked for us.
Lurlene never told me that the men here are excellent cooks too. Donny sure is. He made us juicy sirloin steaks and roasted spring vegetables. Everything was perfect and amazing. Including the conversations we had as we tried to get to know more about each other. He talked about growing up here in Sicily and I talked about L.A. We also finally shared surnames. His is Caporetti. I should have known that even his name would be sexy—Donatello Caporetti.I definitely love his name even more.
“You’re watching me again,” I point out.
“I like looking at you.” He leans forward onto the table, and his muscles bulge, showing off the intricate work of his tattoos.
“I won’t complain, then. I like looking at you too.”
“Look all you want Bella Bellissima.” His lips arch into a sexy smile.
I continue looking, but then silence falls between us, opening the floor for me to ask him the questions on my mind.
“What?” he says, and I press my lips together.
“What do you mean?”
“You look like you want to ask me something.”
I laugh. “How did you find me the other day?”
“I have my ways.” He eyes me with suspicion. “I checked my phone and found the taxi company you called.”
“Oh.” I’m impressed by that. “I’m touched you went through all that trouble for me.”
“Bella, I don’t know what man alive wouldn’t go through any kind of trouble to see you again.”
“You’d be surprised.” I don’t want to think about William when I’m with Donny. It’s not right, but I find myself comparing because the two are so different.
