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“Che cosa? Where’s mine?” Giulio asked, nodding to my plate.
I frowned. Did he expect me to serve him, like an American housewife on those old television shows my nonna used to watch?
“Leave him alone,” Theo scolded Giulio. “No doubt you made him do all the work this morning. He’s built up a voracious appetite.”
Theo wasn’t altogether wrong.
Giulio pulled off his shirt and tossed it on a deck chair. Tattoos rippled over hard muscles in the sun and I paused mid-chew. Mamma mia, he was gorgeous.
“Bello,” Theo said with a chuckle, “your boyfriend is about to choke on his tongue. Maybe you should put your shirt back on.”
I waited for Giulio to refute the boyfriend comment, but he said nothing as he went to the food table. Boyfriends. Hmm. I liked that. What did Giulio think?
“I have suits for you,” Theo said, pointing at a bench with swim trunks on it. “Well, Nic has suits for you. Mine all look like this.” He gestured to the fabric barely covering his dick.
I would love to see Giulio wearing one of Theo’s suits. He would look very hot.
Without an ounce of shame, Giulio stripped out of his jeans and briefs. He kept his back to us, but the sight of his luscious ass . . . I longed to bite it. Grind on it. Fuck it.
I wasn’t the only one admiring Giulio’s body. Theo had his glasses pulled down, openly staring at my man. Something dark passed through me. I growled softly in the other man’s direction.
He shrugged. “I can’t help it. When a gorgeous man takes off his clothes, I have to look.”
Giulio carried the extra bathing trunks over to me. “Stop frowning and go change, assassino.”
“This isn’t a vacation,” I said quietly. Earlier, I’d asked Sasha to investigate any Sicilian groups who might have reason to put a hit out on Giulio. I also planned to ask Nic for a laptop so I could do my own digging. But I also didn’t want to leave Giulio’s side.
“I know.” Leaning down, he kissed me, his lips curved into a smile. “But we are allowed to take a break from worrying for a few minutes.”
We were so different, he and I. This was what he loved, friends and parties. Drinks and yachts. I didn’t fit into this world.
“Per favore, baby.” He gave me another kiss. “For me? I just want to relax for one fucking afternoon with you.”
I couldn’t say no. Not to him.
Without thinking, I stood and held his face with both hands. Then I slammed my mouth on his for a deep kiss with plenty of tongue. Already his skin was warm from the Mediterranean sun and I wanted more.
When we finally parted, he was breathing hard and sagging against me. “Cazzo, baby.”
“No flirting,” I said in his ear. “And keep your clothes on. I’m the only one who gets to see that now.”
Turning on my heel, I went inside to find the lavatory. I would change there.
It didn’t take long. I quickly changed into Nikolai’s swim trunks and folded my clothes. But when I emerged from the tiny room, I wasn’t alone. Nikolai was waiting on the sofa, eyes locked on me. He wore no suit coat, just trousers and a dress shirt. His arms were spread along the back of the sofa, his legs spread wide.
“A word?” he asked in Russian.
I set my clothes on a table and approached him. While I tried to appear relaxed, I was tense. My muscles were on high alert, ready for trouble.
Though there was room on the sofa, I chose to sit across from him. I didn’t speak, our gazes locked on one another.
“I did some digging,” he said, continuing in Russian.
“Did you?”
“Yes, and I was surprised at what I discovered. Alessandro Ricci.” He whistled. “I never would have guessed.”
How had he learned my identity? I tried not to let my surprise show. “And?”
