Chapter Twenty
Quinn
“Buongiorno, amore mio.” Good morning, my love.
I wake to Alessandra’s voice whispering in my ear, which brings a smile to my face. My cock immediately stirs to life.
I turn over to find her curled up next to me, her lips already forming into a pout at the small distance I’ve made between us by rolling over. With a grin, I pull her to me, relishing in the feeling of her skin against my bare chest, the soft movements her body makes when she breathes. I place a kiss on her forehead, and she turns her face to mine. Even now, after everything we’ve been through, after thinking I’d lost her only to find her again, my stomach tightens when she looks at me like that.
You’re one lucky fucker, Kingsley.
“Buongiorno,” I reply, moving my hand down her back and resting it on her perfect ass.
Alessandra raises her eyebrows, drawing circles on my chest with her fingertips in response.
“How is my bellissima fiancée this morning?”
“Perfecto,” she purrs, entwining her legs with mine and resting her head on my shoulder.
If I wasn’t exhausted from the marathon fucking we did last night, I would be making a move on her right now.
When I flew here, my one plan in Italy was to win Alessandra back and make her my fiancée. Now that that’s been done? I didn’t see the harm in the two of us sticking around here for a while, and I even cleared it with my brothers, who are happy to run the business in my absence for a little while.
Alessandra and I spent the past week traveling all over the country. We rode Vespas through Tuscany, walked on the beach in Capri, visited just about every museum and church in Rome, climbed to the top of the Duomo in Florence, and went shopping in Milan. Every day together has been a new adventure, eating and drinking and laughing and kissing and fucking. It’s been perfect. If it weren’t for our double-espresso shots every morning, I don’t think we’d have the energy to make it through the day.
We take our time getting ready for today’s adventure, lounging in bed until our stomachs prompt us to find food. We throw some clothes on, brush our teeth, and head for the café next to her apartment—the same café where she found me the day I first got here.
After ordering our espressos and pastries, we grab a small table in the corner, sitting close enough that our knees touch under the table.
“So, my fiancé, what’s the plan for the day?” Alessandra winks, flipping her long, dark braid over her shoulder.
“We’re going to the Sabine Hills.” I smile.
“Mmm, sounds fancy. What will we do there?”
“I signed us up for a vineyard tour. . .and I might have pulled a few strings to get us a private cooking lesson with one of the most sought-after chefs in the region.”
Alessandra’s smile fades, shock taking its place. “You’re joking.”
“No jokes, signorina. I thought you’d enjoy it.”
“Quinn, oh, my God!” She squeals, making everyone else in the café stare at us.
I can’t keep myself from smiling. I love it when I impress her, and I love it even more when she gets excited like that.
“Sorry,” she mutters, quickly hiding her face in her hands.
“Don’t be.” I chuckle. “I’m just glad you’re excited.”
“Of course I’m excited, are you kidding? The love of my life whisking me around Italy, making me feel like a freaking princess?” Her enthusiasm causes a few other customers to give us dirty looks, and she quickly ducks her head to hide her face again.
We quickly finish our pastries and make our way to the train station, eager to begin our adventure.
Once we arrive at the Sabine Hills, Alessandra and I are both overwhelmed by how beautiful the scenery is. I knew it was going to be pretty, but the view we are met with? It’s better than I ever could have imagined.
Lush greenery is everywhere, stretching as far as the eye can see. Rows and rows of vines line the hillside, and the buildings look like castles straight out of a storybook. Alessandra and I take it all in in silence, our fingers interlaced as we walk slowly toward the vineyard.
When we find the main building, we’re greeted by a middle-aged man with curly hair and a toothy smile who throws his hands in the air when he sees us.
“Welcome, my friends. My name is Niccolo, and I’ll be leading your tour today.”
Niccolo and I shake hands, and he brings Alessandra’s fingers to his mouth, giving them a quick peck. Alessandra turns to me and arches an eyebrow.
“Better look out, Quinn. I’ll expect you to greet me like he did all the time now,” she says with a wink.
We all laugh as Niccolo gestures for us to follow him, turning and leading us down the hallway into a darker, stone-walled room with various wine-making tools and machines. With my arm around Alessandra, the two of us follow Niccolo and listen politely while he explains how wine is made.
Once he’s finished explaining all the tools in this room, he leads us into the next one, which looks about the same, only with large wooden barrels instead of tools. Plus, this one smells a lot more like fermenting grapes. Niccolo tells us about all the different kinds of wine they make here, as well as the special certifications they’re required to go through.
With each new wine he describes, Niccolo hands us a generous sample. Less than a full glass, but definitely enough for multiple sips. Alessandra and I tip our glasses together each time, unable to contain our contentment with simply being together.
As the tour goes on and the wine continues to pour, Alessandra and I grow more and more affectionate. In the back of my mind, part of me knows that we’re pretty much acting like a couple of teenagers. But the rest of my mind? It’s really fucking in love with my fiancée and simply doesn’t care.
We wrap our arms around each other and steal kisses every chance we get. Hell, in the fifteen minutes of free time we had between the winery tour and the cooking lesson, I considered sneaking off for a quickie in the cellar. But, hey, even I have limits. Even when I’m this wildly, passionately, insanely in love.
When it’s time for our cooking lesson, Niccolo leads us to a rustic kitchen overlooking the rolling hills below, where he introduces us to Chef Giovanni, our teacher for the day.
“Benvenuto.” Chef Giovanni welcomes us, his broad smile making his already rosy cheeks a little rosier. He asks if we’re hungry, and Alessandra and I turn and smile at each other.
“Sì,” I reply, slipping my arm around Alessandra’s shoulders. We’re very hungry.
Alessandra chimes in, adding that we’re ready to learn.
Chef Giovanni raises his eyebrows playfully, chuckling at our eagerness. “Tu parli italiano?” You speak Italian?
“She speaks Italian,” I say, rubbing Alessandra’s shoulder and kissing her forehead.
“È un bravo studente.” She giggles, patting my shoulder. He’s a good student.
Chef Giovanni smiles and raises an eyebrow, giving us an appraising look. “Are you lovers?” he asks as he pulls a slab of mozzarella from a tub and begins slicing it into thick pieces.
Alessandra blushes, looking down at her feet to hide her embarrassment.
“Sì,” I reply, placing my fingers under Alessandra’s chin to lift her face to mine. We kiss slowly and tenderly. It may be the wine, or it may be us, but the kiss builds in urgency, so much so that I feel a stirring, prompting me to pull away.
Down, boy.
Giovanni seems unfazed by our very public display of affection. Instead of being embarrassed, he offers us wishes for a happy life together.
“Grazie,” we reply together, unable to hide our happiness.
“Well, let’s begin,” Chef Giovanni says.
To begin our cooking lesson, he lectures us on how to properly pair wines and cheeses, giving us plenty of samples of each. He then teaches us how to make a perfect pizza, handmade pasta, and perfectly seasoned chicken. The food is amazing, and I can’t help but be impressed with how quickly Alessandra picks up Chef Giovanni’s techniques.
Every time I think I know this woman, she teaches me something new about herself. Every second I spend with her here confirms the one thought that’s been bouncing around in my head since she said yes to my proposal.
I’m one lucky bastard.
After our cooking lesson ends, we pack up the leftovers from our meal and say good-bye to our guides for the day.
“Grazie, Chef Giovanni. This was wonderful,” I say, reaching out to shake the chef’s hand.
“Prego, prego,” Giovanni replies, taking my hand between both of his and shaking vigorously.
Alessandra thanks him as well, and the two of us make our way down the path to the train station.
“Good-bye, American lovers!” Niccolo yells from the terrace. He waves heartily, and Alessandra and I stop to turn and wave back. “Come again—and bring your friends!”
We nod and wave good-bye again before turning to walk to the station.
“That’s a good idea, actually,” Alessandra says, lacing her fingers through mine. “We should come back and bring your brothers along next time. They’d love it here.”
I turn and smile at my fiancée. “You’re right. They’d love it here. Maybe the Forbidden Desires executive team will have to have their annual retreat in the Sabine Hills next year.”
“Wives are welcome too, though, right?”
“Hmm. . .I don’t know about that.” I stroke my chin and raise an eyebrow.
“Quinn!” She elbows me in the ribs, slightly harder than she means to. I think.
“Hey, watch it! You’re stronger than you think, you know?” I say, rubbing my side.
“Yeah, well. For a while there, I thought I’d be doing all this alone. A girl’s gotta be able to watch out for herself.”
Taking her hand in mine, I pull her closer to me. “Well, you don’t have to do it alone anymore. I’m here now. Always.”
On the train ride back to Rome, Alessandra curls up next to me in her seat, resting her head on my shoulder.
“Don’t fall asleep,” I murmur, turning to kiss her softly.
“I won’t.” She sighs, her eyes already fluttering closed.
As the train rumbles along, I look out the window, watching the Italian countryside roll by. Alessandra’s breathing grows slow and deep, and the full weight of her head presses into me. Draping her cardigan over her shoulders, I pull her close. She murmurs softly, readjusting and settling into me.
With the love of my life by my side and the Italian countryside out the window, I can’t believe that this is my life. That everything worked out the way it did, so that the two of us can be together.
It’s almost like it was all meant to be.