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Without overthinking what I was doing I draped my leg over his in silent invitation. His eyes heated, searching mine to see if I meant it. I set his hand on my thigh in response. He shifted in his seat, his long fingers sliding slowly between my legs, up my inner thigh with a feathery light touch. I held my breath as they traced a path higher, his eyes never leaving mine. He hesitated when he reached the edge of my skirt.

“Go on,” I whispered, opening myself to him. He took a shaky breath and with an almost unbearable deliberateness stroked up and he touched me. His finger slicking inside me. “Jesus,” he breathed. “So fucking wet.”

I gasped, and a woman at the table in front of us turned in her seat with an admonishing glance.

Levi stilled his hand. Despite myself and the intensity of the moment—I mean, Levi had his fingers inside me—I giggled. He waited until she turned around.

“Try not to make too much noise,” he whispered.

“I thought you wanted me to?” My voice trembled.

“Shhh, I’m trying to concentrate.” I bit my lip and shivered as his fingers began to move again in that same slow, deliberate way, like I was terrain to be mapped. It was slow, delicious torture. “Fuck, Diana, you’re so soft, like silk. Like dew on rose petals. I went to the conservatory this morning and they were in full bloom . . .”

“Do you always provide a running commentary when you finger a girl?” I panted. I was glad it was dark and the video was cinema quality loud, so no one could hear how needy my voice was.

“Trying to distract myself from the fact that I’m about a nanosecond from coming in my tuxedo.” He bit my shoulder as if to drive home the point as he circled my clit.

A ragged moan escaped me. “I’m not even touching you.”

“Diana, I just told you I fantasized about touching you as a teenager and now my index finger is on your clit. You’re hot and you’re wet for me. It’s a lot.” As if to drive home the point he massaged two fingers over me and I nearly wept with the exquisite pressure. My hips wiggled and I opened my leg even wider over his so that my thigh was touching his very evident arousal. He groaned but kept working me under the table. I could feel my pulse thrumming in my lower belly as the pressure built.

“Do you like that?” He breathed in my ear, his firm lips feathering over the side of my neck.

I nodded and somehow managed to choke. “Yes, yes . . .”

My orgasm bloomed. I was going to come like this in the dark crowded ballroom while images of Venice flickered on the wall like we were two naughty kids getting it on in a movie theater. I didn’t care. And just as I was on the edge ready to plunge over into blissful release, Levi pulled his hand away.

I nearly choked with indignation.

A wicked smile touched his firm lips, and he reached for his wineglass with the hand that seconds ago had brought me to the edge of orgasm. “I don’t know if I’m going you let you come yet.” He leaned back. “You’ve been doing everything in your power to make me suffer since we got here. It only seems fair that I make you wait.”

“No, you can’t do that.”

“Oh, I think I can. In fact, maybe you’ll think twice about teasing me, making me carry your panties in my pocket all night while you go flirt with creepy professors.” The sudden anger in his voice shocked me. He leaned closer to me. “I swear to you, Diana. If he or anyone else lays a finger on you, I’ll be spending the rest of my life in an Italian jail.”

I barely recognized this jealous version of Levi. He’d always looked out for me, sure, but he’d never threatened anyone for me.

“Once again, where do you get off telling me what to do?” I lifted my leg from his lap and squeezed my thighs together. “You know what? You don’t get the privilege of making me come. Or touching me for that matter.”

He had the nerve to scoff. “You’ll be begging me to finish the job once we’re back in the room.”

“Oh, because you think you’ll be sleeping in the same bed with me?” I crossed my arms over my chest, my nipples still tight under my dress.

Just then the video ended and the room broke into applause as Marcangeli came on stage and accepted his award. I sulked through his speech, frustration boiling over. Would I never learn? It was just one more humiliation to pile on to another.

Chapter 23

Levi

“If you’ll please go out to the dock. The second part of the evening will be on Isola Bellastra,” announced Signore Visconti from the stage.

I was in no condition to ride in a boat and listen to stuffy old shirts expound about naked statues with missing limbs. I had my own iron-hard appendage to worry about. I’d been walking around in a state of perpetual arousal since I walked into our room and stared straight into the perfect round globes of Diana’s ass.

It had taken a strength I didn’t know I possessed not to rush over and bend her over the marble countertop and bury myself inside her. And then that panty ploy. She knew exactly what she was doing wandering around naked in a barely there skirt. I’d been clocking her movements like a sniper all evening, making sure that none of the men that were hovering around got near enough to touch her. When I saw Harris with fingers inches away from her ass I’d nearly lost it.

I clenched my hand just thinking about. The same hand that had been inside her minutes ago. Fuck!

When Josh died, I swore to myself that I’d do everything in my power to keep Indy safe, and that had meant keeping her away from me. What the hell had I been thinking touching her like that?