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“It’s not just that,” I said quickly. “Nic is . . . sweet. When we were in his hotel room, I mentioned I was craving authentic fettunta and pappardelle al cinghiale. The next day he flew in a whole meal from Tuscany for me. All my favorites and more. I nearly cried, the food was that good. He’s been nothing but attentive and generous with me.”
“So what happens at the end of your holiday?”
“Nothing.” I looked around to make sure we weren’t overhead, then gave voice to my fears. “I’m not sure he is out. We stayed in his hotel room the entire time in Paris. No visitors other than one or two guards. Then he brings me here to this yacht. Either he’s closeted or he’s embarrassed of me. Or married. Maybe all three.”
“Have you asked him?”
“Ma dai. Don’t be ridiculous. We’ve known each other for less than a month. I want to enjoy whatever time we have together and not ruin it with heavy conversation.”
“You’re afraid of the answer.”
“Sì, certo.” I’ve spent enough time around shady men to recognize one. The circles I moved in were filled with oligarchs and politicians and billionaires. Not to mention Giulio, who grew up in the Calabrian mafia. I learned a long time ago that it’s best not to ask questions.
Giulio refilled our wine glasses. “Are you willing to be someone’s secret again? I remember how much it hurt you with that politician you were seeing.”
“It’s totally different, because this is temporary. If he keeps me a secret, who cares?”
My friend frowned. “You noticed the crew? The guns?”
Did Giulio think I was stupid? Gorgeous and with impeccable style, yes—but not stupid. “Of course. Nic is obviously very wealthy. We would be surprised if there weren’t guns aboard, no?”
“Perhaps,” Giulio said, exchanging glances with Alessio. “But I’m worried about your safety.”
This irritated me. Giulio has been on the run ever since his former boyfriend was blown up in a car bomb. Half of the time I never knew whether he was dead or alive.
I turned it back around on him. “Fair, then, because I’ve spent the last four years worried about yours.”
“Forgive me. But you know I didn’t have a choice.”
I wasn’t sure this was true, but I let it go. “Where were you before Nice?”
“Scotland. The Upper Hebrides.”
I frowned. “That sounds very cold and so very not-gay.”
His lips twitched. “It was cold. But I found it surprisingly gay.”
“I bet you did. You are pretty enough to make the straightest of straight ones curious.” I sipped my wine and studied Alessio over the rim of my glass.
When Alessio remained silent, Giulio said, “He’s bi.”
“Ah,” I said with a nod. “I can appreciate a man who orders from both sides of the menu.”
“What about Nic?”
I paused. “I don’t know. We’ve never talked about whether he’s been with women or not.”
A strange look passed over my friend’s face. He leaned closer. “There is something you need to know about—”
“There you are,” a familiar deep voice said. Nic appeared, walking across the deck toward me, and my body began buzzing. I wished I could blame the wine, but it was one hundred percent this man.
I tried to keep my voice light. “Mon grand! Come watch the stars with us.”
Giulio and Alessio stood to leave, but I hardly noticed. Nic settled his bulk in a chair, his eyes never leaving mine. My stomach plunged to my feet. When he looked at me like this, as if no one else existed, he made me feel like the most important, most beautiful man in the world. Like he accepted me, no questions asked.
He patted his large thighs. “Come here, solnyshko.”
How could I resist?
