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The news had been humming, churning out steady pictures of his and Anna’s adventures around Positano. His tactic of basing their fake relationship out of his newest hotel had also worked, with a significant uptick in both media attention and reservation inquiries.
Except those indicators of success had fallen flat in the face of the enjoyment he was getting out of being around his old friend. His old friend who had the most stunning legs, a thousand-watt smile and a zest for life’s simplest pleasures.
An intoxicating mix. One that was pulling him ever deeper into the quagmire he’d tried to avoid ten years ago. Because the more time he spent in Anna’s company, the more he wanted her. Case in point: when he’d spied her bare wrist as she’d walked out onto the balcony a couple of days ago, his chest had tightened. He liked seeing the bracelet on her wrist.
He’d paid more attention and realized that she only wore the bracelet when they went out. She clasped it on her wrist just before they walked out of the penthouse and removed it almost as soon as the door clicked shut. At first it had irritated him. Now it grated. A fifteen-thousand-dollar diamond bracelet.
Yes, he grudgingly admitted to himself, it wasn’t the kind of gift Anna would normally have liked. He’d seen her drawn to the silk, the way she’d lovingly caressed it. The sight of her fingers trailing so seductively over the material had made him turn away in time and spied the jewelry store and the photographer almost simultaneously. It had seemed like a perfect opportunity. Yet every time he’d seen her take the bracelet off, her movements had been jerky, almost frantic.
He’d bought jewelry for previous lovers, even diamonds, so long as they didn’t land on anyone’s finger. It was expected. Even though Anna was nothing like his former paramours, they had at least enjoyed his gifts.
What was wrong with it? And, more annoyingly, why did it bother him so much?
He walked into the penthouse forty-five minutes early. A shower, a change of clothes and then he would whisk Anna off to Santa Maria Church. Given how she’d reacted to a simple painting, he could only imagine her face when she saw the white and gold interior of the twelfth-century chapel.
What the hell are you doing?
He stopped cold in the middle of the living room. When had his plans become about Anna, about enjoying his time with her? When had his focus shifted?
Now was not the time to surrender his control.
He ran a hand through his hair. This was what happened when one rushed into a situation without proper analysis. When one made decisions based on emotions. The last time he’d done that, desperate to take a risk and do something for a thrill, he’d coerced William into doing something he hadn’t wanted, something that had nearly gotten him killed.
He’d written to William after the accident, a letter full of apologies and offers to do whatever it took to give his former friend anything he desired. William had written back, told Antonio he didn’t blame him for what had happened. But the references to how well physical therapy was going, that the doctors had been hopeful about his walking again, had been stakes in Antonio’s heart, driving home the irrefutable fact that he’d hurt someone he cared about because of his own selfishness.
Pushing Anna away, not taking advantage of the incredible gift she’d offered him, had been one of the most selfless things he’d done.
If he didn’t get this whirlwind of emotions for Anna under control, his rejection of her all those years ago would be a waste. Not to mention their plan, which they were now committed to with all of the press coverage, could blow up in both their faces.
A frown crossed his face. Between monitoring the press, overseeing the final phases of construction and enjoying his afternoons with Anna, he hadn’t even asked about whether news of their supposed relationship had elicited any results for her designs.
Self-absorbed bastard.
Guilt, his most frequent companion, seeped into his skin. Reluctantly, he let his feet guide him to the balcony doors and stepped outside.
And stopped, his mouth dropping open.
The immediate surface looked just as it had, with two white lounge chairs arranged to look out over the balcony railing at the sea beyond, a matching table between to hold drinks, a book, whatever the sittees desired. For him, usually a laptop or business reports.
The balcony ran another thirty feet past the doors, with soaring columns and a netted ceiling covered in bougainvillea and ivy. Fans whirred silently, capturing the salty air drifting up off the waves and dispersing it in a gentle breeze over the artfully-arranged plush chairs and fire pit. At the far end, a wooden dining table had been arranged with ten chairs for the exceptionally rare occasion when Antonio would host private guests for dinner.
The table had been taken over by fabrics of all colors and styles. A thin rope had been strung between two columns, papers hanging by clothespins. In the midst of the mess, sitting on the stone floor with headphones over her ears, was Anna.
Oblivious to his presence, her hand flew over the paper, a pencil clutched in her hand. That thick, dark hair his fingers itched to touch had been pulled up into a ponytail. His gaze moved over her like he hadn’t seen her in years, from her pert nose and defined cheekbones to her full lips and dark lashes hiding her eyes. His stare drifted down to the form-fitting black tank and lime-green running shorts.
Desire crashed into another emotion; a craving he couldn’t quite describe. The bucolic scene before him stirred a longing in him, a longing not just to sweep the fabric off the table and lay Anna down beneath him, but to sit beside her on the floor, ask questions about her designs, watch her sparkle as she shared her passion with him.
Danger!
Retreating had never been a part of his DNA, not since he’d gone off to college. But if he didn’t now, he risked one of two things: kissing the daylights out of Anna Vega or crossing the line into emotional territory that would be hell to crawl out of.
He took a step back, ready to turn. A gull soared between the columns, landed on the fire pit and uttered a loud, attention-seeking squawk. Anna looked up, smiling at the bird, before her gaze landed on him. Her mouth formed a littleOas her eyes widened. The bird, damn him, glanced between the two with a rapid jerk of its head, turned and flew off.
Leaving Anna and Antonio alone on the balcony.
How long had Antonio been out there? Anna slowly removed her headphones, her heartbeat kicking into high gear. The pounding in her ears competed with the roar of the surf below.
“Um...hi.”
