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Plus, it got her outside. Even though she hadn’t seen Antonio at all since he’d walked away yesterday, she knew he was still inside. When she’d finally summoned up the courage to go downstairs and seek out something to eat, she’d smelled a wisp of his cologne in the elevator. Paul had arched a skeptical brow when she’d asked to go into town alone, but he’d done it. She’d waited by the empty flower beds, staring at the smooth earth, when she’d felt a hot flicker of awareness between her shoulder blades. But when she’d turned and raked her eyes over the windows of the front of the hotel, they’d been empty.
The afternoon had passed in a whirlwind. Relaxing beneath the red-striped umbrellas on Marina Grande Beach after a dip in the water. Sipping on a glass of Aperol Spritz on the patio of Franco’s, an upscale bar overlooking the ocean. Savoring lemon sorbet from a street vendor.
None of it helped. The sea, the drink, the dessert. None of it cooled the banked coals of lust Antonio had ignited with his incredible kiss.
It also didn’t soothe the tension that had gripped her ever since she’d seen the sorrow in his eyes as he’d pulled away. The last few days, seeing how relaxed he’d been, echoes of who he used to be swirled in with the confident leader he’d become, had tugged at loose heartstrings. She saw how he interacted with Paul and the construction workers, the respect he gave those who worked for him. And the way he planned their sojourns, remembering little things she liked from long ago like no walnuts on her salad and a preference for as little ice as possible in her drinks, had made her feel known, an intimacy almost deeper than the soul-searing kiss they’d shared.
Why had he pulled away? What demons was he fleeing?
A rogue wave snuck up and smacked her in the face. She sucked in a gulp of salt water and coughed. The salt stung her throat as she came upright, trying to keep her head above water as her feet flailed for purchase.
An arm encircled her waist and pulled her into shallower waters. Her feet hit the sand and she bent over, coughing and trying to push her hair out of her eyes.
“You’re okay, just breathe.”
Antonio’s voice broke through the pain of the salt water still stinging her throat. She scraped her wet hair back to see him staring at her, eyes wide, nostrils flared.
“What do you—” Her question was cut off by another round of coughing.
Before she could finish, Antonio scooped her up in his arms and carried her out of the sea to where she’d set her towel and beach bag. As her coughing abated, she pushed against his chest and tried to swing her legs out of his grasp. She might as well have been pushing against a mountain for all the good it did her.
With the coughing fit over and the pain receding, the sensation of being cradled in Antonio’s strong embrace hit her with the force of a freight train. Paul had confirmed that the beach was private and would only be available to Le Porto’s guests. The only way in and out was the stone staircase. So she’d pulled on an emerald bikini she’d picked up when shopping with Kess in Rome, the tie-string bottom and halter top showcasing way more skin than the one pieces she normally favored. Now, with so little on, she could feel every inch of his bare arms on her skin, his fingertips pressed firmly on her thigh.
The memory of how brazenly she’d pressed herself against him yesterday made her blush. What had come over her? She might be a virgin, but she’d certainly been kissed before. Never, though, had any of the boys she’d kissed, or been kissed by, in college ever come close to eliciting that kind of aching desire in her.
Antonio knelt next to her towel and set her down as if she were made of spun glass, his face turning from concerned to thunderous even though his movements remained tender.
“Are you all right?”
She nodded, keeping her eyes on the horizon. Why was he down here? Had he come to apologize? Or finish what they’d started on the balcony?
“Yes, I’m fine. I just swallowed a little water.”
Finally, she turned to look at him.
And promptly wished she hadn’t.
He’d worn khaki shorts and a black T-shirt for his trip down to see her. After going into the water to rescue her, his shirt was molded to his powerful frame, outlining every muscle beneath. She’d felt those muscles yesterday when she’d ripped his shirt out of his pants.
“Why were you swimming here alone? You should never swim by yourself.”
The patronizing tone cut into her fantasy and dragged her back to earth. Nothing had changed. Judging by his voice, yesterday had been an unusual occurrence, a brief moment when Antonio had seen her as a woman, not as a friend or child to be taken care of.
Short-lived.
Pre-Paris, that knowledge would have made her duck her head, apologize and scuttle off. But after the taste she’d just had of what physical pleasure could offer, of what she’d been teased with before having it yanked away, she found herself irritated.
“I spoke with Paul before I came down here. He said the cove had been vetted as a safe swimming spot and to just stay within the confines of the rocks.”
Antonio ran a hand through his wet hair. “Still, you should have told someone where you were.”
“I did,” she replied testily. “Paul. I just told you that.”
“I meant me.”
“Why would I do that? You didn’t care where I was yesterday after you had your fun.” The anger in her voice surprised even her, but she didn’t back down. Not this time. Yesterday she’d been so consumed by the revelations kissing Antonio had revealed, it had masked the confusion and years of thinking she hadn’t been good enough, hadn’t been desirable enough. It hadn’t just been that Antonio had told her he didn’t feel the same way. He’dhurther.
He started to speak but she held up her hand. Strength and anger combined to create a confidence that surged through her and propelled her to her feet.
