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“Where at?”

“The casino parking lot.”

“How was your day?”

“Shitty.”

“What happened?”

He chuckles. “Trust me, you don’t want that story time.”

“I hate that you can’t tell me things,” I grumble.

“How about you tell me about your day instead?”

“I’m sure mine will sound terribly boring compared to yours.”

“Amuse me, princess.”

“I went shopping.”

After Natalia said she couldn’t shop, I invited Aunt Helena and Aunt Celine. They’re always up for a shopping trip.

“What’d you buy?”

“Lingerie.” I brush my legs against the soft sheets. “I’ll show you when you get to Italy.”

He chuckles again.

Two chuckles in one conversation is a record for him.

His chuckles are never upbeat though.

They’re tired and rigid. I’m learning that’s who Antonio is.

“Call me later and describe it to me,” he says. “I want to know what it looks like on you.”

“I need to call you later to tell you this?” I switch the phone from one ear to the other.

“Yes, because I want to be home so I can jerk off to the image of it and your voice.” His response sends goose bumps prickling along my skin.

“You’ll see it in Italy.” I lower my voice while sinking my toes into the sheets. “It’ll give you more incentive to come.”

“If you’re going to Italy, that’s the only incentive I need.” His voice turns darker. “Prepare yourself.”

I gulp. “Prepare myself for what?”

“For me to pleasure you so good that I ruin you for any other man.”

“What if I want to ruin you for all other women?” I whisper.

“Ruin me away, princess.”

13

THREE WEEKS LATER

STILL IN NEW YORK

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