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“Fuck!” He drew his hand away and shook it. “That zipper is a weapon. It stabbed me.”

“Oh, don’t exaggerate.” I grabbed his hand, turned it over in mine. And suddenly I was back years ago staring at his long fingers as they ran over books or gripped the steering wheel, brushing dust from one of my “artifacts” and how just the sight of them was enough to send me into rapturous daydreams. I hadn’t realized that I was doing it even now, staring down at the golden skin, the blunt ends of his fingers, the veins and ridges. Where the tips of my own fingers touched him felt electric. I turned his palm over and stroked the red indentation on his thumb.

“You have no idea how often I used to imagine your fingers caressing my skin,” I admitted. He went stiff as a statue. “I imagined them tracing over my face, my neck. And then at night, alone in bed, I used to imagine how they’d feel inside me.”

Speechless, he stared at me like he wasn’t sure he should run or, dare I hope, push me up against the bathroom wall. I patted his shoulder. “You better get ready or we’ll still be here next Tuesday.”

***

Ten minutes later we made our way down the back staircase. Levi was handsome in his tux, radiating a tense, almost angry energy that made me nervous, but I was determined not to lose the upper hand.

I studied my reflection in the mirror, smoothing down the satin fabric of my dress. “Nonna was right. You can’t wear underwear with this dress.”

“What are you doing now?” whispered Levi as I snaked my hand up my skirt and slid my lacy panties down my legs.

“Panty lines,” I explained as I stepped out of them and stuffed them in his pocket. “You’ll hang on to these for me, all right?”

I started down the carpeted stairs, but I hadn’t gotten a few feet when Levi’s hand wrapped around my upper arm and tugged me backward. He pressed me against the gilded mirrors lining the hall, trapping me between the cold glass and his strong, tense body. He glared down at me, nostrils flaring.

“I know what you’re doing. You’re mad at me for earlier and you’ve decided to get back at me. But flashing your pussy at everyone is not the punishment you think it is . . . Now, be a good girl and put your panties back on.”

I applauded slowly, ignoring the wetness between my thighs—the effect of his words on me. “Bravo, you said the word. But I’m afraid I’m enjoying the breeze, and besides, the dress looks better like this.”

“That dress is smaller than a flea’s tits.”

I shrugged and pushed past him, swishing my hips as he followed behind. I lost my cocky walk, however, when I caught sight of Professor Harris and his wife waiting with Signora Visconti at the door to the ballroom.

Suddenly I was far too aware of the fact that I was heading toward my mentor and my potential patron bare-ass naked under my miniscule skirt. But then I felt Levi’s hand on my back, protectively snaking around my waist as we got closer, and it was weirdly reassuring.

“Leroy, you’re still here?” Professor Harris asked.

“Couldn’t leave before the big show,” Levi said as he bent to give Helen and Signora Visconti a kiss on the cheek.

“Che bello, Levi. You must dance with me tonight.”

“I would be honored,” Levi said as he pulled me closer to his strong, warm body. It annoyed me how comfortable it felt, and so when Professor Harris proposed that I go speak with some colleagues from the Tarquinia dig, I eagerly stepped away. Signora Visconti was only too pleased to take Levi under her wing.

“You know Matteo?” Professor Harris introduced me, his fingers grazing the back of my thigh. It was probably unintentional, but it made me stiffen, and once again reminded me of how vulnerable I’d made myself by trying to get one over on Levi. When I glanced back at him, he was surrounded by Signora Visconti’s friends, but his eyes were on me.

A thrill ran through me, but I turned away, trying to focus on what Matteo, the supervisor at Professor Harris’s second excavation site was telling me. “Rumor has it that Reginald has a new project. Know anything about it?”

I tried not to react. Had Harris informed the entire world of the documentary? “His new TV series?”

“Yes, something like that. He’s flying me out to Greece next week.”

“Oh?” This wasn’t making sense, but I was too distracted by my current state of undress and Levi’s eyes following me around the room.

“He wants to get one up on Marcangeli. They’re so competitive with each other,” Matteo whispered, looping his arm through mine. “Come meet the team.”

***

An hour later, I’d met most of the Tarquinia team and heard the latest news from their site. I found it strange that the rest of our team had not been invited and Harris barely let Pete interact with anyone. He and Sabrina had been put to work seating guests and apparently there was some sort of issue with the presentation that they were planning on showing.

Sabrina broke away while Pete stared on forlornly. “How are things going with Il Re Leone?”

“Not well. We’re not speaking to each other.” And I’m taunting him by flirting with men while going commando under my dress.

“Well, you were right to convince me to talk to Marcangeli. He said he’s looking for people to join his team in Bologna,” Sabrina whispered.