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Her words made me almost tear up, ringing out other words at another time.
“I love it. Would you be able to cut the tags off? I want to wear it straight away for dinner.”
“Of course.”
She got her scissors out from behind the counter. “I am happy to see my design on you.”
“You designed this?” I asked.
“Of course, all these designs are mine.” She took the tags out of the dress. “We have shops in several places, but I mostly stay here.”
I fumbled in my bag for my mother's earrings, happy I had thought to bring them with me. They would match perfectly. “I love your work.”
The lady watched me wearing the earrings.
“That’s an Indian design,” she pointed out.
Smiling, I turned around while wearing my earrings. “It was my mother's. My father was Indian, and he gifted this to her on their wedding day.”
“Oh, so romantic.”
The doorbell rang, with two new customers coming in.
I walked back into the dressing room when I heard my phone beep. After typing a message out to Remo about my whereabouts, I quickly put on my new shoes and grabbed my handbag. I wanted to get down to the entrance before Antonio came. I didn’t want to keep him waiting.
I was just touching up my pale pink lipstick when the curtain flew open to reveal the man himself. He wasn’t in a suit today. Even in a dress shirt and pants, he edged my heartbeat to pound inside me.
The air shifted in the small space. A warm prickle tingled up my spine. I swallowed nervously. I hadn’t expected him to come up. Our eyes met in the mirror. His glinted with a dark swirl of emotion I didn’t recognise. He let his gaze run the length of me, scorching a hot path through my veins. Silence vibed in the air. He twirled his finger, indicating I should do the same with my body. Like a puppet on strings, I did. When I came to a stop, he latched on to my waist and jerked me towards him, keeping me loosely entwined in his arms. There was a fever in between us.
“Bellissima, mia cara,” he said in a broken voice, burying his face in my neck. He inhaled me deeply like I was his oxygen. “This colour, it makes me think … you are naked.” Grabbing my hand, he put my palm flat on his thickness, pulsing, burning under me. “Taunting me with your beauty.”
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
DIVYA
We arrived at a posh Italian restaurant. The classic interior with a contemporary touch spoke of the hands of an interior designer. It was warm and cosy, wrapping us in magic.
Antonio’s hand slid to my lower back to guide me in, burning my skin through the soft fabric. A good-looking man in his early fifties rushed over in a torrent of Italian and led us to our table. When he pulled the chair for me, Antonio dismissed him and helped me sit down.
He tucked me under the table and leaned down, his voice a whisper on the skin behind my ear. “Fucking delicious.”
The goosebumps riding up my arms had nothing to do with the music in my ears.
Instead of sitting across from me, he pulled the chair to sit next to me.
With a frown on my brows, I watched the hum of activity surrounding my husband. The older gentleman must have been the owner of the restaurant. Despite the place brimming with customers, he hovered over us with a waiter in tow. It was strange to watch them interact with Antonio. He was treated with respect despite his younger age and, like his own men, with an obvious fear. The waiter’s eyes skidded to all corners of the room except to my husband, and the trembling in his hands was strong enough to wobble the menu card. Antonio though either didn’t notice or didn’t care.
Antonio turned to me, putting a momentary stop in the flow of Italian. “Shall I order for you?”
An uncomfortable warmth crept up my neck, with three pairs of eyes directed at me.
I hadn’t even glanced at the menu, too distracted by this man next to me.
“Yes.” I cleared my throat. “Surprise me.”
His lips lifted into a wicked smile. But I would have to be a fool to order at an authentic Italian restaurant when I had the specialist right at my table.
I let my gaze run through the restaurant. All tables had ample privacy. Some more than others. We were seated in a secluded corner, though not the most private. Closer to the entrance, anyone entering or leaving the restaurant would have to pass us.
