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The sound of water running drew her from the past. Antonio stepped out of the bathroom, still completely naked. With the sun shining in from the balcony, his skin looked like it was lit from within, a golden tan that, coupled with his black hair, made her think of a dark angel.
“Would you like to join me?”
He extended a hand, one eyebrow arched up at a rakish angle. Her body stirred.
She had a little over a week to enjoy what he was offering. A week, if she didn’t muck it up with her naïve fantasies. Antonio had already shared so much with her that she hadn’t known before. If he’d wanted to share what else had happened that summer, he would have already done so.
Time to be a big girl.
She raised her chin and smiled.
“I’d love to.”
She accepted his hand, loved the way his fingers closed over hers possessively as he tugged her toward the shower.
Hot water cascaded from a waterfall shower that fogged the glass doors and created an intimate haven. He lathered her body with a woodsy-smelling soap, taking special care to wash the remnants of her first lovemaking off her thighs as he cradled her in his strong arms. This time, when he pulled on a condom and slid inside her, her body welcomed him as he lifted her up, wrapped her legs around his waist and pressed her against the wall.
Beneath the steaming water, he made love to her again, drawing out each thrust and teasing her until she dug her nails into his shoulders and begged for a release. He obliged by quickening his pace and reaching between their bodies, his fingers finding the sensitive bud above where their bodies were joined and stroking it until she came apart in his arms.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
ANTONIOHITENDand cut off Alejandro’s incessant questioning. His brother had called to confirm that Antonio and his “girlfriend” would be present at the rehearsal dinner the following day. A ruse, Antonio had discovered too late, for his brother to pester him with questions about Anna.
“So the tabloids were true,” Alejandro had said with a laugh that had grated across Antonio’s nerves.
“I don’t kiss and tell. Unlike some people I know,” he had shot back. His brothers didn’t know about the ruse. God willing, they wouldn’t find out. They had come through for him years ago with William’s accident, making sure nothing had been leaked to the press and that their parents were kept in the dark. Adrian, already a moneymaking machine at that point, had covered all of William’s care, from his time in the hospital to the lengthy physical therapy. When Antonio had made his own first six-figure deposit into his account, he had sent Adrian an amount he’d estimated would cover all of William’s expenses. Adrian had tried to return it, but it was one of the few things Antonio had stood up to the eldest Cabrera sibling on.
Although, it wasn’t like he and his brothers were close. Not only had their recent interest in matrimony and family driven them apart, but he’d always kept himself distant from them since the accident. He’d been sick with guilt and, eventually, ashamed that he’d fallen into the traditional baby brother role of needing his older siblings to bail him out. That he’d also put their hard-earned reputations at risk, as well having to rely on Adrian’s money initially to do the right thing by William, had killed him.
Too bad, he reflected as he walked back into the restaurant. Because he could sure as hell use someone to talk to right about now. He stalked up the stairs, his heartbeat kicking into overdrive as he neared the top.
Shewas waiting for him up there. Their last night in Positano. Tomorrow was the rehearsal dinner. Saturday, the wedding. Sunday, the post-wedding breakfast.
And then it would be over. Anna would depart for Paris and begin to sew as if her life depended on it. Five more requests had come in over the last week, along with offers from several major brands and influencers. The more their photos appeared in magazines, Instagram feeds and entertainment talk shows, the more her inbox piled up. Her friend Kess had hopped on several conference calls, providing guidance on which designers and shows Anna should focus on.
Their charade had continued to prove successful for him, too. The more they’d wandered Positano, the moreLe Portohad cropped up. His head of marketing had yakked on and on about their social media metrics, excitement vibrating through the phone on their last call.
Still, in the last couple of days, he’d noticed fewer photographers and mentions of their romance and more of Alejandro’s upcoming wedding. If he and Anna staged it right, they could continue the pretense of their relationship continuing past the wedding. Flowers delivered to her apartment in Paris, an occasional “mention” to the press by a discreet friend who gushed about how much fun they were having.
It had all fallen into place despite his lack of planning.
He reached the top of the stairs and walked onto the rooftop terrace of the restaurant perched on the mountaintops overlooking Positano, Capri and the Galli Isles. He’d reserved the entire terrace for privacy. At least, that’s what he’d told Anna when he’d surprised her with the limo ride up the mountainside.
But in reality, he wanted her all to himself. A notion he was glad he’d paid attention to because when she’d walked out into the living area of the penthouse earlier this evening, possession had sunk its talons into his skin.
Mine.
The dress hung from her shoulders by silver-braided threads, the straps holding up a gossamer fabric the color of lilacs. The plunging neckline and thin strip of sheer material wrapped around her waist had given him a glimpse of bare skin before falling into a wide, fluffy skirt that stopped just below her knees. Flowers and ivy vines crawled over the bodice. A nod to her love of the outdoors, she’d shared with him.
Now she sat by the terrace railing, the evening light creating an enchanting glow that catapulted the entire scene from beautiful to stunning. The private table, set with a deep blue tablecloth, boasted plates of rice balls stuffed with tomato sauce, mozzarella and peas, and wineglasses filled with Barbaresco. A candle flickered romantically in the center next to a small vase of orange-colored blossoms. The view of the mountain, craggy outcroppings and cascading slopes tumbling into the ocean seemed almost too perfect to be real. The Italian cities he wished they had more time to explore twinkled below.
Yet the one thing that stood out to him in the midst of all that splendor was Anna. The sparkle in her eyes. The smile lingering on her lips. How she still looked so sweet despite the many lessons in debauchery he’d given her the past week.
Guilt crept up on him, fast and venomous. The magic dimmed a little. All week, he’d been ignoring his conscience. Mornings had still been reserved for work, but as noon had drawn near, he’d found himself walking quicker and quicker to the penthouse to collect Anna.
Before he’d made love to her, they’d made their way down to the lobby in an efficient manner. Now he hurried to be by her side, linger on the balcony as she showed him the sketches and samples she’d put together that day. He loved watching her eyes light up, looking at the pictures of what had inspired her that morning, and offering suggestions here and there when she asked. Or sharing his own ideas for where he wanted his business to go and she’d asked questions, showed enthusiasm for his aspirations. That was one thing that hadn’t changed about her. She’d always been interested in him just for him, not for his name or wealth. He’d loved how she’d cared more for flowers picked on a mountainside than all the exotic blooms his money could buy.
Love.
