He closed one eye as if not sure. “I forgot the name. But it smells like black orchids and notes of truffle, and maybe—”
“Of course, a chef would describe his cologne like it’s food, making me both hungry and . . .” Wanting sex.
I jolted at the sudden rumble of thunder. Had the clouds rolled in while we’d been inside? And why did an impending storm and ominous gray sky feel fitting for today?
He released me. “I should let you get ready.”
“Mm. Yes, please leave me alone while I’m wet and naked.” The taunt tumbled from my lips at the same time the sky groaned, threatening to unleash hell.
And the way Enzo peered at me right now, it was as if he wanted to unleash something as well. But that tight lock of his jaw meant he was going to restrain himself. One of us needed to behave, I supposed. “Maria.”
My hand lifted between us as I said, “I know, I know. Fire. And you need a phone because you probably have a ton of important calls you can’t miss, and I’m a distracting pain in the ass.”
He snatched my hips, his hands cut around to my backside, and he squeezed my flesh to that torture-pleasure point he seemed to know so well. “You are distracting. And a pain in my ass. But I . . .”
You what?
His eyes closed, and there was that battle. The war. Didn’t he ever get tired of fighting it? I was exhausted for him, and I was only on the outside looking in, catching a glimmer here and there.
He freed me from his strong hands and turned. But he stopped just outside the doorway, and his hands went to the frame. They turned to fists as he bowed his head. “Wear the red dress. No panties,” he ordered, and with that, he left.
Frustrated by the fact he was leaving but also turned on by his order, I hurriedly grabbed what I needed and went into the bathroom.
Maybe he was right to walk away, though. We were in New York to find his sister’s killer, not to check off my sexual fantasy list. Enzo going down on me had been on the list, but I’d never pictured it happening in that hotter-than-sin way.
I unceremoniously dropped my things onto the vanity and combed my wild hair. I was a mess. On the inside and out, so it would seem.
Once I managed to tame my wet hair, I wrangled it into a side braid so I wouldn’t have to dry it and slipped on the bra and modest but slightly sexy red wrap dress.
I finally unlocked the phone, and all of Natalia’s messages were still unread, which meant Enzo had only seen the notifications and hadn’t invaded my privacy.
Natalia: I’ve called five times. No answer. I’m worried.
Natalia: Okay, Enzo’s not answering his phone either. Do I need to call Constantine?
Great, if she called Constantine and then he tried to get ahold of his brother, why’d I get the feeling he’d send the cavalry?
Me: Sorry. I was distracted.
Natalia: Oh, thank God. I was two seconds away from phoning every Costa I know.
Me: We had to stop at Enzo’s, and I left my phone in the car, and his wound up getting wet.
Natalia: How’d that happen?
Me: His pool.
Surely my sister had been to his place before when she lived in New York, but she’d never told me how crazy-over-the-top his home was.
Natalia: ???
Me: We fell in.
Natalia: ???
Me: It’s a long story.
Natalia: So, give me the bullet points.
Me: Well, Enzo kissed me six years ago at that bar. And then he got me off with his hand twice this past week. I saw him naked last night. And then we kissed for the first time in six years this morning. Somehow, we fell into his pool today. And well, you know, stuff happened after that. See, long story.
Natalia: I knew something happened back then. I can’t believe you just breezed past that in a bullet point. Can you call me?!
Me: I have to go. Can you just trust that I’m okay? We didn’t “go all the way” . . . Almost. And my head is a bit all over the place. Only ever been with Thomas. But Enzo is, well, a whole other level of everything. I don’t know how to explain it.
Natalia: But are you okay?
Me: I mean, I think so.
Natalia: Liar.
Me: I’m . . . I don’t know what I am. Confused. Worried. Scared. In over my head.
Natalia: I’m gonna kick his ass.
Me: It’s not his fault. I pushed and pushed. He was trying to behave. I’m stubborn.
Natalia: So, what you’re saying is his control finally snapped? I guess I can relate. I kind of made Ryan crazy back in the day, too. You sure you can’t talk? I want to be there for you.
Me: I’ll call tonight, okay? We’re heading to his parents’ house and staying there all week. Should be . . . interesting.
Natalia: I guess that makes me feel better. Just don’t forget to call. I love you.
Me: Love you, too.
I set the phone down, determined to erase the nervous blushed color from my cheeks before facing Enzo, but then my phone lit up with another message. Ugh, Thomas.
A-Hole Ex: I heard what happened this morning. Did you get hurt? Talk to me. Are you okay?
How in the hell did he find out what happened?
Me: What are you talking about?
A-Hole Ex: I knew he was a danger to you. You should never have been at his place.
Me: How’d you find out? You’re out of town. Are you having someone spy on me?
And why was I getting the weird Peeping Tom creepy feeling from him? And you are a Tom. Shit.
A-Hole Ex: Why in the hell would I spy on you?
I highly doubted Natalia or Ryan would’ve told anyone what went down that morning. No, it didn’t make sense.
A-Hole Ex: And if you ever answered your phone, you’d know I just got back to Charlotte. Work emergency. I have to fly out tonight. Be back Sunday or Monday. Where the hell are you?
Me: Wait, what? You’re home?
My phone buzzed as he tried to call, but I sent it to voice mail, knowing he’d hear the lie in my voice when I gave him a BS excuse.
Me: I had to leave town. I’m in New York. We’re thinking of opening a second location here. I didn’t tell you because I didn’t want you getting pissed. I’ll call my parents and have them meet you to get Chiara, and they can watch her until I get back.
I’d much rather Chiara be with my parents than with Thomas during this mess anyway. But now that she was back home, it made being away from her that much harder.
A-Hole Ex: You’re in New York?! Are you fucking with me right now? You can’t just leave without telling me, damn it.
Me: I need to call my parents. You can yell at me in person when I get home.
A-Hole Ex: Oh yeah, and when will that be? Don’t even tell me you’re with the chef.
Fine. I won’t tell you. I called my mom, ignoring the flood of messages from him that followed.
I managed to get off the call in less than a minute, dodging as many of her questions as possible, promising to fill her in tonight. I needed a cover story first that made sense.
When I finally made my way back into the bedroom, I found Enzo waiting for me, and my cheeks were fire-hot from dealing with Thomas.
“Thomas is back in Charlotte. He had a work thing, so my parents are going to get Chiara. She’ll stay with them until I’m back.”
“Then I’m taking you home. You need to be with her,” he said without missing a beat.
I folded my arms. “I’m here until Sunday. That’s the deal. Don’t argue with me. She’s in good hands.” I gave him a stubborn lift of my chin before my gaze fell to my suitcase. “So, how are we supposed to fit everything into the Porsche?”
He stroked his jawline, clearly contemplating an argument. He shook his head, grunted, and my shoulders fell with relief when he didn’t push back on sending me home. “Fine. I’ll send Alessandro to come back for the boxes tonight or tomorrow.”
“So we came here for no reason?”
He surprised me with a smile and brushed his knuckles over my cheek. “I don’t know, I feel like it worked out, don’t you?”
My body shivered in response, but after he stepped away and took my suitcase, my arms fell to my sides at the memory of the first part of my conversation with Thomas in the bathroom.
Enzo’s brows slanted. Had he read my thoughts? “What is it?”