CHAPTER FOURTEEN
Monday, June 12
Rome
“Do you still think that I’m an old man?” When there was no immediate response to his question, he lifted his head and looked over and saw that Stazi’s eyes were closed. “I’m going to assume that your inability to respond is based on the fact that I have you so sexually satisfied, you are incapable of forming words.”
Her hand slowly rose and she gave him a thumbs-up. “This time I’ll let you rest,” he said, “but not for long.” When she rolled over and pulled the sheet over her head, he assumed she was taking it under advisement. Stretching his hands over his head, he grinned. Their morning quickie was the fourth time he’d taken her since they’d gotten back from the restaurant last night and he was feeling very satisfied with himself. He prided himself on knowing when to be a gentleman and when not to be. Last night, he’d shown her both versions and he was more than satisfied that she liked both.
Every time she had given him the privilege of control over her body, he felt that she was giving him another ounce of trust. Last night, she had willingly given herself to him and in turn, he gave her the tender love she needed and the hard love she craved.
His greatest desire was that she would eventually entrust her safety to him. Mindy, body, heart, and soul. So far, she trusted him with her body, and while that made him unbelievably happy, he really wanted her heart. Because she had his.
He knew that finding a perfect woman was impossible; however, finding one who cared about his complexities and beating heart might not be. He was pretty sure that the woman lying comatose next to him wanted to understand him and know him because she was constantly asking him questions. Sometimes, he felt like a book she couldn’t read fast enough because she was so curious about what he thought and liked. Yesterday, when she asked him about his favorite Roman heroes, he almost fell over. No one outside his immediate family had ever wanted to know him so intimately, and it had opened his heart in a way he couldn’t describe.
It made him want to give her everything he had and become a better person so that he could be worthy of her. Which made him realize he was good and gone. So many soft and romantic feelings were flying through him that he wasn’t sure if he was the same person he’d been a month ago.
Which wasn’t a bad thing, considering he’d had few interests outside of work. This opportunity with Stazi was giving him the chance to become a whole human being, and since he’d never had it before, he didn’t plan on wasting it.
Stazi was his chance to walk through the door and make a life that he could be proud of. The last thing he wanted to do was end up as a one-dimensional human being, and having a wife and children was going to ensure that never happened.
Sliding out of bed, he decided to grab a quick shower and then get on his computer. He’d kept up with the intel that Lucky and Sam were putting together and he wanted to make sure that nothing had come in overnight that he needed to be aware of.
They hadn’t picked up a tail since they’d arrived in Italy and he truly didn’t expect one. But being paranoid and hyperaware didn’t allow him to ever get too complacent, so he kept himself in the loop just in case something came up that he needed to be aware of. Before he walked into the bathroom, he heard the sheets rustle and saw Stazi throw them off and roll on her back. She must’ve gotten hot in her cocoon because she was still asleep. He’d discovered over the last couple of weeks that she was a restless sleeper and flopped around. Watching her for another minute, he noted she was dead to the world.
Looking down at his body, he let out a silent chuckle. He fisted his hard erection and gave himself a couple of hard tugs. Maybe he could wake her up by eating her sweet pussy and then give them both what they seemed to crave. His mouth watered a little as he stalked back to the bed. He liked nothing better than getting his mouth on Stazi and licking up her sweet nectar. He parted her legs gently and quietly called her name before he spread her pussy lips open. Diving in, he rubbed her sweet honey over his mouth and nose. The idea of being covered in her sticky sweetness when he buried himself in her had him almost coming against the bed. He pushed two fingers inside and rubbed her sweet spot as he licked and sucked. Hearing her breathing pick up, he knew she was awake, so he stroked her G-spot and sucked on her clit. When her hips moved against his mouth, he worked her harder and moaned.
No better place in the world.
It didn’t take long before she was coming on his face and leaking her sweet honey on his fingers. Bringing her down slowly, he licked her clean as the last of the spasms left her body. He rose on his knees and pushed her knees back, so she was completely open to him. “Ready, baby?” After lining up his cock, he thrust inside her warmth. “You’re so wet, we’re going to make a lot of noise.”
Stroking heavily into her body, he gritted his teeth at the perfect way she fit him. “You’re mine, Stazi.”
Tilting her hips up, she nodded. “Only you.”
Music to his ears.
He leaned down and sucked a tight nipple into his mouth as he thrust harder, bottoming out against her cervix. Riding bare, he knew he had a small chance of getting her pregnant despite the contraception she was on. A small devil in his mind whispered that if he got her pregnant, she would be his. The thought nearly had him going off as his strokes increased. She moved her legs around his waist and pulled him in deeper, and he thrust one final time and felt her go over the edge. Pulsing around him, she milked his cock as he emptied himself. As she sucked his seed deep into her body, he figured a one percent chance was better than none.
Collapsing, he rested his head next to hers. “You’re my everything.”
“Fai attenzione al mio cuore, perché tu lo possiedi.” Lifting her head, she pressed their mouths together. “Be careful with my heart, because now you own it.”
“Always.”
Rolling away, he pulled her into his arms. “If this is a Monday, then I can’t wait to see what Friday brings.”
“Me too,” she replied against his chest. “You’re a dirty boy with a filthy imagination and I can’t imagine what you’re going to come up with.”
“More of what we just did and…”
“What?” she asked.
“Guess you’ll have to wait and see.” Hearing her laughter after what they’d just done told him they could be very happy for the rest of their lives. Not just because she let him take her in any way he wanted, but because she let him see all of her. The smart side, the funny side, the scared side, and everything in between.
He wanted all of her and she was slowly letting him have it and, in turn, she seemed to want the same from him. Which was something he’d never dared hope for. Never in his wildest dreams had he thought he would want or have a connection with a woman like the one he was making with Stazi. They hadn’t been together a month and he was all in and had a feeling she was too.
All they had to do was trust that it was real and not screw it up.
***
Stazi jumped out of the cab and felt her face split into a huge smile. They had come to the Piazza di Santa Cecilia, which was one of the most splendid ones in the heart of Trastevere. It was away from the traffic and chaos and quite close to the Istituto Superiore per la Conservazione ed il Restauro. After they had lunch, they were going to see her mentor, and then she would show Hank around.
After Hank paid for the cab, he joined her and took her hand. “Honey, there are two things that give you that smile. Since I know the first thing can’t be done in public, I’m assuming we’re about to eat some amazing food.”
Looking up, she shrugged. “Guess you’re lucky you found a simple woman.”
“Nothing simple about you.”
Sweeping her hand up, she pointed to the Restaurant Roma Sparita. “One of the best places for cucina romana. The menu is short, but there are few places that serve better cacio e pepe pasta.”
“Is that pasta with pepper?”
“Almost. It’s made with pecorino cheese and black pepper and it’s served on a crisp shell of Parmigiano. We can have the cozze all marinara too. It’s mussels with garlic, chili, pepper, and a hint of tomato.” Clapping her hands, she pressed them together. “It’s divine.”
Hank led her toward the faded ochre and terracotta building and smiled. “I need to be fed because I used up all my energy this morning satisfying my woman.”
“I guess we should order double then because the day is only half over.”
He kissed her head as they waited for a table on the piazza. “I like a woman who plans ahead.”
After they had ordered their feast and both had a glass of wine, Stazi felt Hank’s arm slip over her shoulder. Leaning her head against his chest, she let out a contented sigh. “I spent so much time in this neighborhood when I was at the Istituto, it’s hard to believe that I’m back here with you.”
“How far away is it?”
“Maybe five minutes.” Placing her hand on his leg, she ran her fingers back and forth across his shorts. “I’m looking forward to showing it to you.”
Hank looked down and then moved her hair off her cheek. “Tell me how you became interested in art conservation. It’s not a common career choice.”
Their artichoke was delivered and Stazi leaned forward to inhale the gorgeous scent. “There is nothing more delicious that garlic, wine, herbs and an artichoke.” She took several leaves, scraped them across her teeth, and moaned. When she saw Hank grinning, she shrugged. “I love to eat. So what?”
“I know, honey. I figured that out when you ate that piece of pie and didn’t let me have but one bite.”
“Whatever.” She pointed at the artichoke and lifted a brow. “Jump in or I’m going to eat it all.” Unwinding his arm, he sat forward and dug in. When his face broke into a smile after he tried it, she felt her heart grow a little bigger. To share the things she loved with him and have him appreciate them made her believe that they might end up having something real. “To answer your earlier question, it was my father who started me on the path of being interested in art. He used to restore Russian lacquer boxes in his free time and I always loved watching him go through the process of taking something that was almost destroyed and turning it into a beautiful piece of art. He’d been trained as an artist in university and never really had the opportunity to pursue his dreams, so this was his way of expressing his artistic side. He had a workshop set up in the garage and spent as much time as he could turning what some might consider trash into jewels.”
“Are you an artist as well?”
“Not really. I can paint decently, but that’s because I was trained to do so, not because I possess any innate talent. Which, it turns out, is perfect for my job.” The waiter came by to clear the plate and Stazi took a sip of her wine. “My true passion ended up being art history and conservation. When I was a junior in high school, I had no idea what I wanted to do until I stumbled across the art conservation program at the University of Delaware. Once I saw what it entailed, I knew it was the career I wanted.”
“What exactly does a person study to get a degree in art conservation?”
“My undergraduate degree is a Bachelor of Arts in Material Cultural Preservation, which means that I took classes in chemistry, archaeology, studio art, and art history.” Their plate of mussels was delivered and Stazi lifted a shell and handed it to Hank. “It’s a little spicy.”
He leaned forward and gave her a peck. “I love spicy.” After they plowed through the plate in record time, Hank ordered them another glass of wine as they waited for their pasta. “So, how did you end up in Italy?”
“You have to get at least four hundred hours of experience in studio skills before you can apply for a graduate program. One of my professors had studied at the Istituto and recommended that I apply. It’s one of the most notable and prestigious institutes in the field of art restoration and instruction. Together with the Opificio delle Pietre Dure in Florence, it’s almost unmatched. Some of the world’s most respected art historians and conservationists have come out of the school.”
“And after you got your four hundred hours, what did you do?”
“I applied for the master’s program and went back to the University of Delaware and got an MS in Art Conservation with a specialty in painting. I went to college when I was eighteen and it took me almost nine years to complete my education; thank God I’m finally working.”
“I had no idea it took so much training to do what you do.”
“I loved being a student and enjoyed the process.” Taking his hand, she laced their fingers together. “Guess if I didn’t, then I would’ve chosen something else to do.”
The waiter approached with two perfect plates of cacio e pepe pasta and Stazi felt like swooning. “It only has three ingredients, but it took me almost a year to perfect it.”
“What’s the secret?” Hank asked as his plate was placed in front of him.
“Timing, patience, and practice.” Stazi twirled her fork in the perfection on her plate and grinned. “Making the perfect pasta is kind of like creating the perfect relationship.”
“Good thing we have all the necessary ingredients,” he replied before taking his first bite of pasta.
Watching his eyes close and a smile form on his face reminded her very much of what he’d looked like earlier when their bodies were joined. It was true—they did have the right ingredients. All they had to do was be patient and allow themselves to let go.
***
As they walked through the Istituto and Stazi described what people were doing, he realized how passionate she was about her career. He hadn’t really understood what she did on a daily basis until she explained what was happening in each room. “I had no idea that your job used state-of-the-art technology as well as practices that were used hundreds of years ago.”
Stazi stopped in the doorway of a room where a large painting was being worked on. There were three women in white lab coats standing in front of the painting with high-powered lights shining on the canvas. “What are they doing?”
“They are cleaning the surface of the painting so they can eventually repair it. Most of my career has been spent with small squares of history. We usually work on a painting in a series of twelve-inch squares, trying to preserve it, restore it, or determine if it’s the real thing.”
The hushed atmosphere of the room was noticeable and the only sound that could be heard was coming from the fans in the corner of the stone room. She really did live in a quiet world most days, which might have been the reason she hardly ever chattered. Wrapping his arms around her, he rested his chin on her head and watched the women work. When they had first started spending time together, he’d discovered that she didn’t talk just to fill space and only spoke when she really had something to say. Which he’d appreciated because he hated when people just talked to hear their own voices.
“Ready?” she asked as she stepped out of his arms.
“Sure. Where are we going next?”
Lifting her arm, she checked her watch. “We are meeting my mentor, Vittorio, in about fifteen minutes, so we should start walking in the direction of his office.”
“I’m looking forward to meeting him so he can tell me about that girl who showed up in Italy all those years ago.”
Shaking her head, Stazi let out a snort. “When I came to Rome, I was a twenty-one-year-old college graduate, ready to start my adventure.”
“What kind of adventure?” Hank asked as he looked down at her smile. “Romantic ones?”
“I had plenty of those until I decided they were tumultuous, far too consuming, and ultimately exhausting. I enjoyed my dolce vida until I couldn’t take one more passionate-crazy affair. The whole thing left me thinking that passion was better spent on my career and a practical and rational approach to my dating life might get me closer to what I wanted.”
“I don’t want to think about you having a wild youth. It makes me want to find those men and beat the shit out of them.”
“If I had to guess, I’d say your total numbers of lovers is four or five times bigger than mine.” Looking up at him, she squinted. “Make that seven or eight. You’re an irresistible man and there’s no way you denied the ladies.”
He let out a laugh that echoed against the stone walls and shook his head. “I spent most of my time deployed and was keeping company with men who smelled bad and didn’t see the need to use manners.”
“Be that as it may, I’m sure you had company when you wanted it.” Slipping her hand away from his, she crossed her arms.
“Why are we talking about this?” Hank asked as he stopped in the hallway. “We’re both getting jealous about something that happened in the past and that’s stupid.”
“You brought it up,” she replied petulantly.
Looking to his left and then to his right, he made sure they were alone. Crowding her until her back was against the wall, he threw his hands up on either side of her head so that she was caged in. “I’m not going to ask about your dating past because I don’t want to know. A red-hot rage fills my gut when I think of you with anyone other than me. I have to make peace with the fact that I wasn’t your first, but I will damn well be your last.”
“I have to admit that the idea of you with someone else makes me furious. When you came and picked me up at the office and I saw those women flirting with you, I almost lost my temper. It was a feeling that I was unfamiliar with because I’d never felt possessive about anyone in my life.” Brushing her hand over his shirt, she shrugged. “I wanted to stomp up to them and yell, ‘Mine, mine, mine!’”
“The next time you feel that way, I hope to God you do it. Because I love the idea of you claiming me.”
“Really? That wouldn’t be a total turnoff?”
“Hell, no. Half the time, I’m not sure if you really like me, and if you yelled mine a couple of times, that would be fucking amazing.”
“All right. The next time the urge comes up, I’ll do it.” Fisting his shirt, she pulled him down. “Kiss me.”
“Always,” he replied, dropping his mouth so that he could do one of the things he loved most in the world…kiss his woman.