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She shrugs. “Not particularly.”
I lower myself onto the chair and watch her lips quirk. Behind us, the loud group finishes their order and leaves as noisily as they came. Then the barista, a dark-haired middle-aged man, ambles over.
“You are good?” he says in accented English. He’s talking to my companion, but scowling at me.
She nods. “I’m great. Thanks, Gino.”
His scowl deepens. “I take your order,” he says to me.
“Okay.” I tell him what I want, glad I don’t have to leave her, even to order. After Gino waddles away, I turn back to her and find her watching me, her lips curved in a small smile.
“So, what’s a pretty guy like you doing here all alone?” she asks.
I chuckle. “I’m not alone anymore, am I?”
“You’re not?” She arches an eyebrow.
“Nope.” I grin. “I’m with you now. Until Gino poisons me, at least.”
She laughs, and the barista chooses that moment to return with my coffee and a sweet-smelling pastry. He gives me another suspicious glare before walking back to the counter. My companion watches him go with a fond smile. “He likes me because I’m a regular.”
I spare a quick glance at the barista. “I don’t think that’s the only reason he likes you.”
She raises her eyebrows and opens her mouth in an expression of exaggerated surprise. “Why do you think he likes me?”
I’m laughing. “Same reason I had to chase Romeo away just a moment ago.” I tell her. “I’m sure you already know what you look like.”
“First of all, Romeo?” She snorts out a laugh, then cocks her head. “What do I look like?”
Perfection.“Like if this was in another time, me, Romeo, and Gino over there would fight to the death for your attention and nobody would think it was too much.”
She rolls her eyes, but she’s smiling. “Did someone send you here to give me an ego boost?”
“No,” I grin. “But I’ll boost your ego all day if you like.”
She bursts out laughing, then when her shoulders stop shaking, she leans forward and sucks on her straw for a tortuously beautiful moment before her eyes meet mine again.
I pull in a quick breath and drop my gaze to the book on the table to hide the naked lust in my eyes. A History of Renaissance Art. Interesting. “I’m Tristan,” I tell her. “Tristan Kane.”
“Cora,” she replies after a momentary pause. “Cora Banks.”
Cora. It’s the perfect name for her.
“Tourist?” She looks curious.
I nod. “Tourist…Vacationer. You?”
“Student. Summer Art History program.” Her eyes linger on my face. “You’re alone? Not part of a group?”
“Nope.” I shake my head. “I ended up in Florence by chance and I’m exploring the city on my own.”
She bites the corner of her bottom lip and frowns. “How do you end up in Florence by chance?”
I tear my eyes from her lips. “Long story. Let’s just say I desperately needed a vacation.”
“And now you’re just wandering around telling random women how hot they are.”
“Only the ones who look like you and have your first and last name.”
