“I bought you a present.”
They stood outside in the square plaza, across from Café Brera. Rip took in the mischievous sparkle in those golden eyes. On cue, his heart did a tiny little skip, almost like a dance, and he groaned inwardly at the textbook cliché he’d become.
He was totally smitten.
Yesterday had been picture perfect. He’d pretended to work for half a day on mysterious property explorations, then met her for an afternoon excursion and long, lazy dinner. Thank God she’d stopped him the other night. He’d been so crazed with need for her, he’d lost his control. He refused to make love to her before Cat knew his true identity, even though the growing sexual chemistry between them was ready to explode. Still, he’d been ruthless in allowing her to set the tone of their intimacy. She had to seek him out in order to truly bind her in the way he craved. Physically. Emotionally.
Legally.
Edward had already warned he’d be calling her soon.
Time was running out.
He pushed the disturbing thoughts away and smiled down at her. She looked adorable in dark washed denim, a black, short leather jacket, and those teetering stilettos, today in bright pink. “Why am I suddenly worried?”
“I’m testing your ability to go with the flow today.”
He crossed his arms in front of his chest and regarded her suspiciously. “I’m not the flowy type. I prefer control.” He paused, his gaze resting on her lips. “In all things.”
On cue, her cheeks heated. Curiosity stirred. The more he dug, the more innocent she seemed. He’d imagined her engaging in a long trail of love affairs in Italy, but she acted almost shy at times, as if she was unused to flirtation and the game of seduction.
“Oh! That’s good. I mean, that’s good to know.”
He laughed. “I’m ready for my surprise.”
“Okay, first I want to show you something.” She stepped back, grabbing the opening to her jacket, and flashed it open. Underneath, she wore a hot pink T-shirt scrawled with the words, Sex, Love, and Panforte. “What do you think?”
The sweet curves of her breasts displaying that delicious message got him hard in seconds. He shook his head and shifted. Damn, he ached to strip off that shirt and bare her to him completely. Spread her thighs and bring her to orgasm with his lips and tongue and teeth, until she writhed and begged and screamed his name over and over and—
“Lee? Do you like it?”
The sweet way she uttered his middle name punched him in the gut. The guilt grew every moment they were together, until he realized he had to tell her the truth very soon. He got himself under control and re-focused. “Hell, yes, I like it. You look hot. Now, you have to take off the jacket.” He dropped his voice. “Real slow.”
Oh, yeah. She slicked her tongue across her bottom lip and those eyes heated up. She wanted him just as bad. It was time to break down some more walls today and ease her further into this relationship.
She shrugged the leather off, easing it over one shoulder at a time, slipping it from her arms in a deliberate tease. Then with a seductive smile, she threw the jacket at him, standing proud in a tight T-shirt and jeans that were sexier than any negligee. He loved it. Underneath the shyness was a bit of a she-cat. He couldn’t wait to find out.
“Now it’s your turn,” she said. She rummaged in her bag and whipped out a black T-shirt, holding it open to display the motto: Bread or Death. “Do you like it?” When he remained silent, she broke into a worried babble. “I know, it’s kind of stupid, right? Especially for a guy, but I saw it and knew you had this bread thing and thought it was going to be cute, but I’ll take it back, it’s totally okay—”
“Caterina?”
“Yeah?”
He took the shirt, an odd tightening in his chest making it hard to breathe. When had a woman ever given him a gift? Too long ago to even remember, and then it had been either generic or cheap. His fingers stroked the soft cotton and he looked into her anxious face, noting again that she was a giver, not a taker, so he did the only thing he could in the moment to show how he felt.
He kissed her. Long and deep and slow. His mouth cherished and pleasured with languid strokes until she softened in his arms and clung to him so sweetly he wanted to take her to his bedroom and show her how good he could make her feel. They kissed on the public street amidst the crowds and nothing ever felt so right. He pulled away slowly, her honeyed taste lingering on his tongue.
“Grazie. It’s my new favorite shirt.”
Her face lit up. “I’m so glad.”
“In fact, I’m going to wear it right now.” He handed her jacket back, and in one swift motion, peeled off his heather grey pullover. Ignoring the glances and stares of the various people surrounding them, he tugged on his new T-shirt, liking the way the cotton felt against his skin. “What do you think?”
Her jaw had dropped.
Amusement skittered through him. His woman seemed to like what he’d revealed, which made him feel like a fucking god. He wanted to strip off all his clothes and stand naked in front of her, relishing with pride the flare of lust gleaming from her amber eyes. Her gaze hungrily roved over his chest, his shoulders, and her fingers came up as if she wanted to touch him. Immediately, his gut clenched and the raw chemistry sizzled like a live wire between them.
“I think you’re beautiful,” she whispered.
Her honesty made him stiffen in agony. He blistered out a curse. “Keep looking at me like that and there’s only one place we’ll end up.”
She tilted her head, as if considering it. He held his breath, but after a few seconds, she shuddered and stepped back. “I love the shirt.”
“Good. Now that we’re rocking the fashion world, what would you like to do?”
“Have you been inside the church yet?” she asked.
“No.”
“It’s been a safe place for me. I know it’s a popular attraction, but I feel like it’s just for me. Would you like to go in?”
He offered his hand and she took it without hesitation. “I’d like that.”
They walked through the plaza toward the church of Santa Maria del Carmine. A dark metal statue stood in front of the church. Rip stared at the headless, armless sculpture with both interest and a tad of horror. The strange angular chopping of the body along with a small head sprouting from the chest hit an onlooker full force. Behind it, the faded brick of the church rose up in symmetrical matching halves against the dreary afternoon sky. Dual arched windows sat atop the door. A grand, detailed round window in the shape of a rose balanced out the structured architecture, leading to a carved cross sprouting off the roof. The church was smaller than most of the sweeping duomos of Florence and Rome, but a quiet peace pulsed around the building, offering welcome.
Cat guided him inside, where there were few visitors to navigate. Still holding hands, they made their way down the aisle, taking their time to admire the gorgeous detail of the altar, from the colorful frescoes of Jesus and Mary to the sweeping arch of the dome atop, surrounded by elaborate carvings of wood and gold amidst the sheen of stained glass. The textures and colors blended together in the art of sheer beauty, made even more majestic by the building’s smaller, more intimate size. A hush fell upon the church and his humming nerves seemed to settle. It was almost as if his soul was finally able to take a long breath.
They were quiet as they studied the various frescoes, then took a seat in one of the pews. Rip had never been in a church other than the occasional sightseeing. He watched Caterina kneel, bowing her head with clasped hands, and pray. Her glorious hair masked her face in over a dozen shades of blond, catching the light trickling in. He sat and watched her, breathing in the damp air scented faintly of incense. Time passed. He reveled in the quiet and the presence of a woman he was beginning to care for.
Finally, she slid back onto the seat and smiled at him.
“What do you pray for?” he asked curiously.
“My father. Myself. The world. I pray I won’t waste time on things that don’t matter. I ask for forgiveness for craving expensive shoes when they don’t even fit in my closet anymore.”
He grinned. “Italian shoes can never be termed a sin.”
“Finally.” She gave a sigh. “A man who understands.” She looked up at him with a beautiful smile. “Are you ready to go?”
He liked that she didn’t push him for his religious beliefs or try to make judgment. She seemed to emanate acceptance with people, and Rip found it soothed his soul. “Yes, let’s get something to eat.” They walked out through the Piazza San Marco, enjoying the street market. They bought bowls of fish soup, and a hunk of crusty bread, and ate them on a bench, soaking in the atmosphere of the spring afternoon. Rip decided it was a good time to dive deeper. “Can I ask you a question?”
She glanced over. “Anything.”
“The man you left behind in New York. The one who broke your heart. Do you still love him?”
She met his gaze head on. “No. For a long time, I didn’t know how to function without him. We’d dated for so many years, it became more of a routine than a real love. He and my father were close, and it became easy to listen to them both. When I left, I realized I hadn’t given myself any time or space to find who I really was. I’d become what they wanted. Does that make sense?”
It did. But another question swirled in his head, waiting for an answer. “Yes. But if you saw him, would you want to try again?”
She shook her head. “I never loved him the way a woman is supposed to love a man she’s about to marry. He was a friend and a mentor. It was almost as if his role as a lover was secondary, and that’s what I realized was missing.”
Relief cut through him. He’d run into her ex-fiancé at a few social functions, but they kept their distance. From the stories Edward told him, Devon had not only been a cheater but a liar, too. Rip had discovered signs of embezzlement once he audited the books, but Edward refused to pursue retribution, choosing to move on and limit any future interactions. Rip was glad the asshole had shown his true colors to Caterina. The idea of them being married shuddered through him in pure distaste.
But he couldn’t say any of it, so he settled on keeping it light. “They say sometimes the biggest fuckups make the most fortunate events.”
She laughed. “You said that so much better than a poet. I agree.” She finished the last of her bread and put down her bowl. “What about you? I know nothing about your past. Do you have a big family?”
Ice chilled his veins. He tried to act normal, even as the familiar distance leaked into his voice. “No. Just me.”
She tilted her head and pushed. “Were you close to your parents?”
“You think you’re better than us, boy? You’re not. You’re trash—and going to a fancy school with your fancy clothes and degree ain’t gonna change who you really are.”
The words of his father shook through his memory but he kept the wall firmly up. “No. I left for school and never saw them again.”
A frown creased her brow. “I’m sorry. That’s young to be on your own.”
“I worked hard, did what I had to make it work. Got a full ride and graduated with a business degree. I was placed right away into an internship program and made my way to management.”
“Ah, so that’s where you got into property development, huh?” Her eyes twinkled and suddenly, Rip couldn’t stand her believing a lie. He’d been wrong to lead her on with his mysterious statements about his job.
“I’m not in property development,” he said. The words fired off his tongue before he had time to think it through. “I’m here for something else.”
“What?”
“I’d rather not tell you right now. But I will.” He nailed her with his stare. “Soon.”
A flicker of wariness crossed her features. “It’s not illegal, is it?” she finally asked.
His lip twitched. “No.”
“You’re not secretly married or seeing someone else, are you?”
He leaned over, placing his hand over her cheek. Her quickly indrawn breath told him how much his touch affected her. “There’s only you.”
“And you still don’t want to give me your last name?”
He winced. “I promise I’m not a criminal.”
“Witness protection?”
He groaned, trying to find a way to get her to trust him for a while longer. “This sounds ridiculous, but for a little while, I just want to get to know you without any of the other trappings or judgments. Does that make any sense?”
“Yeah, it does.” She leaned in, happiness glowing from her. “Then I’ll wait.”
When she discovered the truth, she’d try and throw up barriers. Pretend they never had a connection. Convince herself to hate him. He’d take on the battle but right now, today, he wanted to savor the moment, wanted to soak himself in the purity of her presence, like the shadows chase the elusive flicker of the light. Wanted to believe he was the man who could make her happy.
“Let’s go.”
He stood up from the bench, threw away the garbage, and took her hand.
“Where are we going?” she asked.
He smiled. “Everywhere.”
And they did. They wound in and out of the shops crowding the plaza and beyond, stopping at the Duomo, the Galleria, and the Museum of Art. They drank dry, sparkling Prosecco and ate honey biscotti and found a place to hide during the brief rainstorm that hit mid-afternoon. They stumbled on a tiny café with a few tables in the back garden, and ate dinner late at night, with the twinkling white lights strung on the trees surrounding them like an angel’s halo. They drank red wine and talked of the things that made them happy, of great literature and movies that changed their world, and of the dreams that still lingered after they closed their eyes.
When he walked her to the apartment, he saw in her eyes she was ready.
But instead, he only kissed her goodnight, not trusting himself to hide the core of who he was from Caterina any longer, afraid she’d turn away if she knew the true darkness in his soul. He turned to go but she stopped him.
“Up for an adventure tomorrow?”
He absolutely refused to believe in the word giddiness. “Sure.”
“Meet me here after your morning shift.”
“I’ll be here at one.”
He left her with a smile on his face and a pit in his stomach.
* * * *
“I don’t think I’m ready for this yet, Caterina.”
“Don’t be silly, we’ve fooled around enough. It’s time to just do it.”
“Maybe we’re moving too fast.” A worried tone seeped into his voice. “I think I need more practice.”
“Nonsense. Keep your focus and let your body lead. You know the popular term, it’s like riding a bike. Where do you think it came from?”
“I feel like an idiot,” he muttered.
“Would you just do it? Slide your butt back a little more and adjust your leg to the left. Yes, perfect. Now, push!”
He took a deep breath and pushed.
With a whoop, Caterina watched him take off down the street on the bike, his hands wrapped around the handle bars in a death grip. “You got it!” she shouted, jumping on her own bike to follow. “Let’s do this!”
“Are they going to stay out of my lane?” he boomed in demand. “Because I won’t be able to stop.”
The busy traffic of Milan wasn’t the best place to teach a person to ride a bike, but she’d advised him to stay in his lane and keep his focus in front of him. Cat had been horrified to hear he’d never been on a bike. Had never learned to ride, even as a kid. Something inside her chest hurt when she thought of it. Even though he hadn’t opened up, she felt as if there was a world of hurt within him that needed to be shared. Thankfully, she had taken advantage of the bike sharing program in Italy and knew the roads well. She’d just have to keep a sharp eye on him.
“Just focus on the road ahead and follow me. I’ll lead us out of here.”
Cars beeped, traffic jammed, and mopeds zipped in and out with an obnoxious roar. She clamped down on her giggle as she eased past Lee and noticed his usual calm, cool demeanor had been replaced with a touch of panic.
“You’re doing great,” she said as she rode beside him. “You’re a natural. Just don’t get in your head.”
“There’s a turn coming up so I don’t have time to chat now.”
“Lean into it like I taught you.”
He did, barely swiping another rider who turned to give him a dirty look. “This is stupid,” he muttered. “People should stick to cars, or trains. Hell, even a motorcycle makes sense. Why are we still using transportation that’s powered by our own energy?”
“Bikes are the best way to get around in cities. Besides, don’t you get a real sense of freedom and accomplishment? The wind in your hair, the sun on your face, the thrill of exhilaration?”
“No. I prefer air conditioning and a kick ass sports car.”
She smothered a laugh.
“Too much technical development causes us to get lazy,” she cheerfully replied, adjusting the small bag she’d packed with food and water.
He tossed her a quick glare, then re-focused on his crowded lane. “Did you just ride with no hands?”
“Yes, but I’ve had practice.”
“Show off.”
She laughed, giving him a tour as they made their way through the crowded city and headed toward one of her favorite spots—Parco Sempione. She kept a tight eye on him, hanging back to make sure he felt confident, and eased him out of the congested, city roads toward the famous Castle Sforzesco and the sweeping Arch of Peace. The historic brick castle stole her breath every time—the imposing tower holding central court, and boasting powerful defensive walls designed by da Vinci himself. Elaborate water fountains graced the front entrance, but it was the back of the castle Caterina sought—the true treasure being hidden.
“Let’s park the bikes here and walk the rest of the way.”
“Yes. Walking is good. Very good.”
The road turned into cobblestones, bumping their bikes around, and she lifted her hand to point toward the castle. “If you look over there, you’ll see the Castillo Sforzesco. We should get you a tour before you leave, but we’re heading into the park for now and—uh, oh.”
She realized her mistake immediately.
As a new rider, his gaze had been focused completely on the path ahead, and he’d refused to look left or right. But he’d automatically swung his gaze to follow her pointed finger. She held her breath as he coasted, but then the normal mental processes overtook him.
He panicked.
His hand jerked on the handlebars, the tires wobbled, and he crashed onto the sidewalk.
Cat stopped pedaling, hopped off her bike, and ran over to him. She pressed her fingers to her lips and focused all her efforts on keeping a straight face. “Oh, my God, Lee, are you okay?”
Slowly, he stretched out jean-clad legs from underneath the spinning wheel and looked up. The sun glinted in his coal-black hair. He pushed himself up and lay his palms on the rough cobblestones. The snug fabric of his T-shirt clung lovingly to every carved muscle. Those full lips tightened into a thin line. A faint chorus of Italian titters drifted in the air, and a few people stopped to grin at the crazy American sprawled out under his bike. “Don’t even think about it.”
Cat covered her mouth with her hand and tried to focus on something else. Unfortunately, the sound bubbled up at the back of her throat, demanding exit.
“One giggle. One tiny giggle and it’s all over.”
She flirted with the idea of jumping back on her bike to escape, but she had a feeling Lee would come after her.
A small boy stopped in front of them, peering over at Lee, then asked a question in Italian to his father. The parent shook his head and led him away.
“What did he say, Caterina?”
The giggle grew. “You don’t want to know.”
“Tell me.”
“He said, ‘Papa, did the big man fall down?’”
And then it happened.
She laughed.
In a flash, Lee jumped from the ground and tossed her over his shoulder in one easy motion. She shrieked wildly, laughing harder as he strolled leisurely toward the gurgling fountains, while the crowds pointed and smiled at them. With the backdrop of the brick tower, the two-tier fountain bubbled merrily and was a popular place for tourist pictures and tour groups to stop. Lee didn’t seem to care about the audience as he stopped near the edge, near enough for a mist to hit her face in warning.
Holy crap, the water was cold.
“Umm, Lee? Can you put me down now?”
He ignored her, his hand solidly on the curve of her buttocks. “Hmm, I have no coins with me. If I throw you into the fountain instead, do you think my wish will come true?”
She froze. He wouldn’t. Would he? “No! Your wish will most definitely not come true.”
“But how can you be sure?” He pretended to toss her.
“No! Oh, please, please, I’m sorry I laughed!” She clung to him fiercely.
His deep laugh raked across her ears. “Yeah? How are you going to make it up to me?” He shifted her weight and shivers bumped over her skin. The intimacy of their position hit her full force. The weight of his arm splayed across her thighs, and that heavy palm pressed into the small of her back. Her breasts dragged against his solid back, teasing her nipples. Her face grew hot and her body grew needy.
“What do you want?”
He laughed again, but this time it was a sexy growl. “Oh, that opens up a whole boatload of possibilities. But why don’t I just settle for a kiss?”
“Done. Can you put me down now?”
With slow, deliberate movements, he slid her down the front of his body. When her toes touched the ground, she was breathless and off kilter. It was his dark gaze locked on hers that centered her.
“You’re mean,” she said.
Suddenly, he snagged her around the waist and dragged her in. His fingers tangled in her hair and he tipped her head back. “You’re pretty.”
Her tongue came out to wet her lips. “Are you going to take your kiss?”
Triumph flickered across his features, along with an aching tenderness that stirred the nest of emotions buried deep. “No. I’m going to give you my kiss.”
His mouth lowered, achingly slow, and he brushed his lips over hers. Once. Twice. Soft as a whisper, sweet as a song. Caught up in the moment, she leaned in and asked for more.
He growled her name and gave it to her. They kissed by the fountain, amidst the crowds, with the ancient tower keeping watch, and fell into each other. It was a kiss she’d never experienced before, full of possibilities, and when he finally broke away, she swayed drunkenly on her feet. They stared at one another for a few moments, a bit wary, as if they’d both realized something bigger had happened within that simple kiss and they couldn’t go back.
It was the flare of panic in his eyes that made her blurt out the words. “That was a really good kiss.”
A laugh burst from his chest, and he shook his head, grabbing her hand and pulling her away from the fountain. “Yes, it was,” he said seriously. “But now I’m really hungry and I’m hoping you have something good in that bag of yours.”
“I do. Let’s get the bikes parked and walk to the Parco Sempione.”
They retrieved the bag, parked the bikes, and headed behind the castle. The pop of spring had brought out the crowds to enjoy the huge expanse of green lawn, leafy trees, and the glassy spill of the lake. A curved bridge led them over the water, and various paths wound through the trees to hidden sections of gardens with benches. The park was a treasure caught between the glorious Arch of Peace and the castle, a quiet, meditative place to think and appreciate the simplicity of nature.
She found a grassy space, laid out a picnic blanket, and opened the bag.
“This is beautiful,” he said, studying the gentle slopes of green against the water and blue sky. “I guess when I think of Milan I don’t think of parks.”
“Think of the city. Central Park is quite beautiful, and they have their own zoo.”
“You’re right. Another reminder not to judge a city by its noise and population. We need to look deeper.”
She shook her head and grinned. “I had no idea you could be a bit silly. I like that.”
He looked shocked. “I’m not silly. I’m deep and broody, remember?”
“That’s what I thought when I first saw you.”
He propped up his arms behind him and cocked his head. “Okay, now I need to know. What exactly did you think when you first saw me? Please include the word hot in there somewhere.”
She took out a small bottle of wine, two plastic glasses, and half a loaf of bread. “You reminded me of a dark angel. Sitting in the back alone in the shadows, focused on your drink. There was this silence that vibrated from your aura. I got the sense you could be surrounded by people but they wouldn’t touch you. There was too much distance.”
His chin jerked as if he’d taken a hit. She hesitated, not wanting to hurt him, but her gut urged her to continue. “When I looked into your eyes, I saw pain. It made me sad.”
His voice flicked out like a whip. “Is that why you came over to me? Because you thought I was in pain and you felt sorry for me?”
She shook her head. “No. I came over because I felt something. A connection. It was like you drew me to you—into you—and that pain was just a part of who you were. That’s why I love that you can be silly. That you almost threw me into the fountain, and agreed to ride a bike when you didn’t really want to, and took your payment in a kiss. I’m starting to fall for you, Lee, and we just met. Does that scare you as much as it does me?”
He sucked in his breath, and she tried not to panic. Oh, God, she’d really put herself out there. And yes, she was a little embarrassed, but not enough to take it back. This man made her want things she’d never imagined before. She craved to delve into and explore every layer of him and open herself up again. She knew almost nothing about this man, yet her heart whispered she knew all the important things.
Would he pull back? Was it too much to ask after only a few days, especially when he planned to return to New York? Her heart pounded in an uneven rhythm while she waited for his answer.
“Yeah, it scares me. But no, I’m not walking away. How’s that for an answer?”
She smiled. “It’s perfect.”
“Just one important thing.”
She frowned. “What?”
“You still didn’t mention hot.”
She leaned in and kissed the delicious, sulky pout of his mouth. “Not just hot. Smoking hot. Blistering. Call a fireman sexy hot.”
“Better. Let’s eat.”
She pulled out the chunk of hard parmesan, pears, and fresh honey. They cut off pieces of food and ate in the grass under the hot sun, fingers sticky, the fruity, dry wine chilling their tongues. Kids raced across the field, throwing rocks in the pond. Fat clouds floated by. Birds swooped in and out of the branches above and screeched in song.
“So how are you spending your time here in Italy?” he asked curiously.
“Are you asking me if I have a job?” she asked teasingly.
He laughed. “Do you?”
She popped a sliver of pear in her mouth drizzled with honey. “I’ve been thinking about launching my own purse line.”
His brow arched. “I didn’t know you were a designer.”
“I’m not. I just got the idea recently to try something new. I’ve been taking some courses at Style Design college. I tried being a stylist for a while, then got into the marketing aspect of fashion but it didn’t seem like the right fit. Design always intrigued me, so I decided to try and launch my own purse line. I got a job working a few hours at a local boutique. Sophia—the owner—introduced me to a few designers who were nice enough to answer some questions, so I’m slowly building some contacts. Once I have a solid line of samples, Sophia told me she’d let me try them out in her boutique.”
“Sounds like a solid plan.”
She blew out a breath. “It does, right? I feel like I should be further along, though. I worked hard my entire life, but when I came and settled in Italy, I had no idea what I wanted to do for work. It’s harder when you have more choices.”
“Definitely.” He studied her intently. “Maybe you haven’t found what you really wanted yet because you’re meant to end up back where you started. Making wine. Maybe that’s your true talent.”
She wrinkled her nose. “I doubt it. But eventually, I have to do something. I tapped into my savings to finance this past year and a half, but the money is running out. I can’t ask my father for more.”
He looked away, and she wondered if he looked down at her for not having to work for so long. For being taken care of by her father, like a little girl. But she wouldn’t be ashamed. She’d worked for that money just as hard, standing by her father night and day to learn and run the business. She had no regrets using the money to see more of the world and gain new experiences.
“I thought you’d be different.”
Startled, she stared at him. “What do you mean?”
He waved a hand in the air. “I meant you’re different from other women. You’re very…honest.”
“One of my downfalls. Why? Aren’t you?”
He jerked and began stuffing the trash back into the bag. “I’m honest with myself. Here, let me get rid of this.” He unfurled his long legs and walked across the lawn to dump the trash. She watched him walk with graceful strides, still giving off that air of isolation that was a part of who he was. Curiosity burned. She knew he was still hiding things from her, but he’d promised to tell her more very soon. Cat analyzed his last statement, sifting through the nuances, and finally caught a sudden realization.
“You’re honest with yourself but not others?”
“Huh?”
She shifted onto her knees and faced him. “You said you’re honest with yourself. Does that mean you lie to others?”
He shook his head. “No. There’s just not a lot of people in my life to talk to. But I made that choice and I’ve been happy about it.”
She studied the clench of his jaw, and the defensive gleam in his eyes. “Tell me a secret,” she said.
“What?”
“A secret. We all have stuff we’re keeping from others—the stuff that scares us. We drink or sleep or fall into bed with strangers or cry or make a love spell to avoid the consequences of our fear.”
“Love spell?”
She pushed on. “It’s a sunny spring afternoon. We’re safe and happy and having a beautiful day together. Tell me one secret you’ve never told anyone else.”
He looked at her like she was a creature from an alien species. “Why?”
A smile touched her lips. “Because we can.” He didn’t speak, so she figured he’d opt out on her game. “Want me to go first?”
He took another sip of wine. “Okay.”
Cat thought long and hard about which one to pick before she spoke. “I let my father push me toward a man he thought I should marry, a man I learned to love, but not with passion, not like a wife should love her husband. Even with the promise of owning my dad’s winery, I wasn’t enough to hold his interest. Will I ever meet the one who is meant to be mine? Will he love me for me? Will I be enough? So yeah, those fears are mine.”
His stunned silence made her uncomfortable. Damn, she should have made a light-hearted joke afterward. She just wanted a way to connect on a deeper level with him, and he seemed so guarded about his past. About who he really was. Instead, he thought she was lame and kind of desperate and sad.
Oh, my God. What a stupid game to play.
Surprise hit when he grabbed her shoulders and looked into her face as if memorizing every feature and angle to bring into his dreams. “You are enough,” he tore out raggedly. “You’re amazing. Beautiful. Sweet. You’re…everything. For a man. To love. One day. Do you understand?” He shook her slightly. “Caterina?”
Her eyes widened and she choked back sudden tears. Where had this man come from? She swallowed hard and nodded. “Yeah. I understand.”
His hands dropped away like he’d been burned. He turned and muttered something under his breath. “Maybe we should go.” He moved and this time, she grabbed at his arm. “I’m sorry, Lee. I shared too much, too soon. You don’t have to tell me anything at all. This was a perfect day.”
She pressed a kiss to his rough cheek, and got up from the ground. Brushing the grass from her jeans, she folded the blanket and turned to go.
“My father once beat me because I got straight As in school.” He spoke casually, as if this was a normal conversation. She stilled, clutching the blanket to her chest, and waited. “Said I was a fucking show off. Told me to never forget where I came from, because I could study in a fancy school, and get a fancy job, and a fancy girlfriend, but inside, I was trash and it would always come out. I’d never be good enough for the life I wanted.”
The horror hit her, but before she could respond he went on. “At first, I didn’t want to believe him. I figured the harder I worked, the more I accomplished, I’d leave everything behind and show him good. One day, he’d beg me to acknowledge him as my father. I’d have money and success and all the things he’d warned me I couldn’t get. But he died before I graduated. He died before I could prove it to him. That’s one of my biggest regrets. That I couldn’t look the son of a bitch in the eye and show him who I was.”
Instinct made her reach out to take his hand, entwining her fingers with his. She waited, sensing there was more. “What about your mom?” she asked.
“Ran out on me when I was ten. Heard she got a nice new family with a husband who doesn’t beat her. Probably doesn’t need me to remind her of the crap she left behind.” He stared at the ground. “The funny thing is I think that asshole was right. I watched others snatch up internships from high family and political connections. I watched cliques form at the country club that had always made me feel fake and uncomfortable. And I’ve always felt like an outsider, no matter what success I’ve accomplished. So that’s my stuff. The demons, as you’d term them.”
She looked into his eyes and realized there were no words of comfort to ease a past that had hurt him so deeply. So, instead, she stepped into his arms and offered him the comfort of her body, then told him the only truth she knew, right here and now.
“It doesn’t matter what happened before,” she said softly. “You’re enough, too.”
He hugged her back, tentatively at first, then allowing himself to relax into the embrace. They held each other for a while under the warm sun, until they slowly broke apart, leaving their hands still clasped.
They walked out of the park and back toward their bikes in silence, but something had shifted again between them, piercing the thick wall of secrecy surrounding him, exposing a few shards of truth to the light.
For Caterina, it was enough for now.
* * * *
Later that night, Rip shot out of bed, his lungs gasping for air.
Fighting back a shudder, he rolled off the mattress, his skin damp with sweat. He glanced at the clock.
Midnight.
Fuck.
He hated when the nightmares came. Occasionally, they’d rise up from his subconscious, like gleeful little devils reminding him he hadn’t outrun them. Whenever he’d begun to succeed and build confidence in his abilities, his father’s voice danced in his head in its familiar, taunting tone. Whenever he hoped someone would spot worthiness for love in his soul, her mocking laughter would drag him back down to the pits of hell.
The conversation with Caterina had let them loose.
He hadn’t been able to stop thinking about her.
You’re enough, too.
He got up and shrugged on jeans and a T-shirt. Went to the bathroom and splashed cold water on his face; brushed his teeth. He’d never had a more perfect day. After the park, they’d gone to dinner, and on to La Dolce Famiglia for dessert. Instinct had pushed him to tell her the truth that night, but she’d cited a morning appointment with a purse designer, and Rip sensed it would be better to leave. The kiss at her front door promised much more, very soon. He’d quickly texted Edward when he got back to the hotel and asked for a few more days. He still hadn’t heard back.
Rip looked in the mirror and wondered what Caterina saw in him. Eventually, she’d realize he was a fraud, a man who’d lied about his identity. A man who’d never loved or been loved in return. A man who wanted things with her he’d never thought possible.
His lungs tight, he couldn’t breathe; he needed air. Stumbling out the door, he headed down to the lobby, through the doors, and took to the streets.
His life had been a long string of successes and failures, but he’d never questioned if he was happy. Growing up with a father who hated him had taught him never to seek such a luxury. No, life had been about survival, pure and simple. He’d learned early any type of reaction incited more attention from his father—usually left in black and blue marks. It hadn’t taken long for him to master masking his feelings and remaining distant, cold, untouchable. But inside, the mass of raw emotion simmered dangerously. School was his ticket out, and he’d taken the violence until he graduated and left before he exploded into a rage of hate that would destroy him.
He remembered the first time he’d met Alicia. She’d been the first woman he’d fallen in love with—a woman with class and breeding—from her expensive sports car, designer clothes, to the wicked restlessness gleaming in her hard blue eyes. She’d brought him home to the family vineyard and announced her intention to marry him.
Rip saw his job as a new opportunity to prove himself. His enraged future father-in-law cut him down at first, but grudgingly found that he had a raw talent with the grapes, a rare palate and skill with blending that quickly had him moving ahead.
His boots ate up the uneven pavement and he fought with the memories. That first job had taken patience. Timing. He’d sought comfort in the endless acres of vines that needed constant care and attention. Under delusions he had found a family, he’d bought a ring and proposed under a moonlit sky, in the vineyard, on bended knee.
And she’d laughed. Told him she’d never intended to marry him. She’d just been looking for some fun, intending to piss off her father in the process. She’d craved his body, his brooding savagery, but not the man he was inside.
Once again, Rip had learned the lesson.
He was alone.
When he began working for Winsor Winery, Edward offered him hope. Over the months, they’d bonded, and Rip believed he’d finally found a home. He’d dreamed of running the business with Edward’s full support and approval, never expecting to be pushed to marry his daughter. Once again, he’d allowed himself to believe he could be part of a family. Once again, he would be turned away. Never enough.
His body shook. A low, animal groan ripped from his lips. He stopped and looked up.
Moonlight spilled over her window, illuminating the endless flowers bursting from the wrought iron balcony. Was that a light burning inside or his imagination? It didn’t matter. Somehow, he’d ended up here, his subconscious pushing him where his heart wanted to be.
With Caterina Winsor.
He needed to bury himself inside her tight, wet heat. Feel her cool fingers travel over his body. Needed one night of raw, honest passion before he told her the truth; before she turned away from him and put her walls up. He wanted her open and sweet, surrendering to everything he could do to her and give her.
He stumbled forward as if in a drunken haze. Rang the bell. Waited.
The light over her door flicked on. Footsteps echoed. The chain of a door released, and she peeked through the crack. Her eyes widened. He heard a quick intake of breath.
The door opened wider.
He stood before her, hands out, and gave her the only truth he could.
“I need you tonight, Caterina.” His voice was both a plea and a fierce demand. “The demons are here.”
Seconds ticked by. The air seethed with savage emotion.
Slowly, she stepped aside and let him enter.