AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“It was a rat. I’d seen rats before. Where I grew up… But I’d never seen a rat that size. Luckily, I realized what it was just before I cornered it.” She shook her head. “I was very, very careful after that.”
“How old were you when you came to the city?”
“Seventeen.”
“So young? And you were already on your own?”
It was the wrong thing to say. He could almost see the walls going up.
“Models usually start their careers at an early age.”
“And your parents had no objections?”
Another bad question. The walls were not only going up, they were starting to sprout crenellations and towers.
“Forgive me,” he said, kissing her hand again. “I ask too many questions.”
“No,” she said quickly. “I just—I don’t like talking about myself, that’s all.” She smiled, and he could see the wariness beneath it. “It’s a boring topic.”
“Nothing about you is boring,” Luca said, and he stopped in the middle of the crowded sidewalk and kissed her. This was New York; nobody objected. The crowd simply parted and swept around them as if they were boulders in a stream.
When he raised his head, what he saw in her eyes filled him with joy. “Are you happy, bellissima?” he asked softly.
He’d half-expected her to hesitate before answering, but that didn’t happen
She laughed and touched his cheek. “Very happy.”
A dozen thoughts skittered through his head. Most of them were dangerous because they made no sense. He reminded himself that they hardly knew each other and besides, the relationship wouldn’t last.
He never wanted relationships to last.
He was not a man seeking permanency. He had places to go, things to do. Aside from all that, he had seen far too many fools believe in something as useless and meaningless as love.
Not that what he felt for Cheyenne was love, or anything even close to it. He liked her; he found her desirable.
Incredibly desirable.
No surprise there.
She was a beautiful, bright, sophisticated woman, fun to be with, interesting to talk to, and as eager to explore the pleasures of their sexual relationship as he was.
And yet—and yet, there was more to it than that.
There was a vulnerability to her that was at odds with the tough exterior she presented to the world. A softness. A sweetness. He had the feeling he’d found a part of her she kept hidden and that there was still more to her than she’d permitted him to see, and if he let himself think about that too long, if he let himself think that there was more to this than terrific sex…
“A penny,” she said.
She was laughing up at him, repeating what he’d said to her last night.
He wanted to offer a clever answer, but his thoughts were spinning and all he could manage was to kiss her again.
Then he cleared his throat, laced his fingers through hers, and led her into Balthazar for brunch.
The café was, as always, crowded, noisy and wonderful.
She ordered strawberries and coffee.
He looked at her as if she was a creature from an alien planet.
“I have to watch my weight,” she said. “In my profession…”
“I’ll watch your weight,” he said, stroking an imaginary handlebar mustache.
She laughed. It was an old, foolish joke, but she loved that he’d made it. Besides, why worry about her weight? She really didn’t have much of a profession anymore. The calls her agent sent her on were more and more scarce.
“Okay,” she said. “I’ll have a poached egg. Dry toast. And coffee.”
“The lady,” Luca said, “will have Eggs Benedict.”
“Luca. All those calories!”
He took the menu from her hands, added it to his and handed them to the smiling waiter. “I’ll have an omelet. Mushrooms, cheese, whatever. And don’t forget those strawberries.”
“Yes, sir.”
“We’d like a bottle of champagne to start.”
“Will Dom Perignon Brut be all right, sir?”
“The 2003? Yes. That will be fine.”
The waiter left. Luca reached over the table for Cheyenne’s hands.
“You’re spoiling me.”
He grinned. “Am I succeeding?”
She smiled. “I take it you’ve been here before.”
“A few times.”
“With women you date who live in Soho?” she said, and instantly hated herself for asking the question. “Luca. I’m sorry. That is so unlike me—”
“With my brother,” he said gently, “and, once or twice, with my sisters.” He leaned forward. “Are you jealous, cara?” His eyes darkened. “I hope that you are.”
“No. I’m not jealous. I…”
She ran the tip of her tongue over her bottom lip. He considered leaning in a couple of inches more and replacing the tip of her tongue with his.
“I don’t—I don’t usually… You’ve found a version of me that I don’t know. Does that make sense? I don’t know how else to phrase it.”
“It is the same for me.” His voice was low; his fingers tightened on hers. “It is as if we are on a journey of discovery.”
“Yes. That’s the way I feel, too.”
“So stay with me, bellissima. We will travel this road together, si?”
She nodded, but he saw the uncertainty in her eyes and he silently cursed himself for being a fool.
“Nothing will harm you, Cheyenne. I swear it.”
Something would. Life would. Reality would, because this was not reality and she knew it. This was all a risk, but she would take it, gladly. She would take any risk for him.
The champagne arrived and as the bottle was opened and poured, they both sat back and returned to the easy give and take of two people just beginning to get acquainted.
Over the eggs, she asked about the brother and sisters he’d mentioned.
He told her about Matteo, who, it turned out, had his law offices nearby. About Bianca, who was studying for her Master’s degree in psych at New York University. About Alessandra, who had studied design at the Fashion Institute and was seeking a job in the industry.
“Does she have a portfolio?”
Luca grinned and said whatever that was, he was sure that she did.
“Well, I know lots of people. Maybe I can…” Cheyenne paused and blushed. “Sorry.”
“About what?”
“I got ahead of things. I mean, there’s no reason you’d want your sister to meet me. I mean, we met, of course, at El Sueño, but getting together for coffee or lunch…”
She was right.
Why on earth would he want one of his sisters to meet the woman he was sleeping with? The designation made him wince. To meet his lover. That was better.
Besides, for some reason, the thought made him smile.
“She would like you,” he said softly.
“I’m sure I’d like her, too. I only meant—” She sipped some champagne. “So,” she said brightly, “you were all educated in the States?”
“We all took our degrees here, yes.”
“No comparable schools in Italy?”
Luca’s jaw knotted. “Our father was American.”
“Ah. So you came here to live with him.”
“No.”
The ‘no’ was abrupt. Cheyenne flinched.
“Forgive me,” she said. “I didn’t mean to pry.”
“You didn’t. It’s just that…” Hell, he thought, why hide it from her? “Our father was—he was a fraud, and not at all what he pretended to be.” He drew a deep breath. “Our mother will never know because she is gone—and we, my brother, my sisters and I—are only just learning how to deal with it.”
This time, it was she who reached for his hand.
“I’m so sorry.”
His fingers meshed with hers. “Sometimes,” he said, trying to lighten things, “families are not all they’re sup
posed to be.”
She tried for a laugh and hoped she’d managed to make it sound real.
“Isn’t that the truth.”
“Here is another truth, cara. I must leave you tomorrow to fly to Milan.”
She understood. It was goodbye time. A couple of days and now it was over.
She hadn’t expected more than that. The truth was she hadn’t expected as much as they’d had. There was no reason to feel such a sudden weight in her heart.
“Come with me.”
She looked up. The expression on his face was so intense it almost took her breath away.
“Come to Milan, with me, bellissima. I’m asking again. Say that you’ve changed your mind and that you will let me take you with me.”
“It’s impossible. I mean, you want me to put everything aside and go away with you at the last minute? We only just met. We don’t know anything about each other. I’d have to be crazy to go with you—and you have to be just as crazy to ask.”
