Chapter 20

CHIARA

‘ L et’s take a break,’ Rio drawled with a casual smile.

We sat at my dining table over a breakfast of fruit, cornetto, and espresso, his raw, husky timbre soft but insistent. ‘How about a day at the beach?’

‘Down the street?’ I asked, puzzled.

‘No, it’s too packed,’ he rasped, then added, ‘Leranto Bay. It’s about an hour and a half from here. We’ll take the car, prepare a picnic, you and me.’

I had no reason to refuse. A whole day with Rio, away from the noise of our lives, in a secluded bay said to be a hidden paradise?

It sounded perfect.

It didn’t take long to pack food and swim gear, although I found myself protesting Rio’s scorching kisses and pulse checks every so often.

The man was nothing if not affectionate, if not in heat for most of his waking hours.

I didn’t mind, Dio , I didn’t object at all.

The drive was scenic, winding through the Sorrento Peninsula. The rugged cliffs and the glimpses of the turquoise water below lifted my heart.

I caught Rio’s eyes on me a few times as he drove, his hand resting on the steering wheel, a small smile playing on his lips.

On occasion, he’d stroke my thigh, lift my palm to his mouth, and slide a hand to my nape, setting me off.

Something about how he eyed me, with ice-flamed heat in his pale blue babies, made my soul lurch—like I was the only thing in his world that mattered.

I melted under that gaze, loving the delicious thrill it sent through me.

We arrived at Leranto Bay late in the morning. The sight was breathtaking. Crystal-clear water stretched out before us, framed by the jagged cliffs.

The beach was sparsely populated, as Rio promised.

It was like our own private paradise.

‘This is amazing,’ I breathed as I stepped out of the car, feeling the warm Mediterranean breeze against my skin. I turned to him, my heart fluttering. ‘How did you even find this place?’

He shrugged, that easy smile still lingering. ‘I have my ways. Figured you’d like it.’

‘I love it,’ I sighed.

He reached for the picnic basket we’d packed and grabbed my hand, leading me down a narrow path that cut through olive trees and wild bushes.

We hiked up the headland for a better perspective, then moved toward the shore below.

The closer we got to the water, the clearer it became.

It was so blue it didn’t seem real.

We found a quiet spot near the edge of the bay. It was a flat, shaded area beneath a rock formation offering a perfect ocean view.

We spread out a blanket and unpacked the basket.

Unable to resist the lure of the water, we lost ourselves in the moment—swimming, splashing around like children, treading together, laughing so free it seemed like a dream.

I felt lighter than I had in months, like I might breathe again.

Rio was an effortless swimmer, gliding through the sea with ease, but he kept close to me, his eyes checking in every so often.

After a while, we floated side by side, the sun warming our skin, the water lapping at our bodies.

I turned to him, my heart pounding from more than the exercise. ‘I could stay here forever,’ I whispered loud enough to be audible over the sound of the waves.

He glanced at me then, water dripping off his neck and beard, his wet hair slicked back. The ink on his neck glimmered, as did the intricate tattoos down one shoulder and sleeve, entrancing me.

Handsome, so handsome.

His eyes narrowed, the man studying me, his gaze intense and unwavering. ‘I know what you mean.’

His hand reached out, finding mine, fingers intertwining with mine, and then he pulled me into his chest, burying his face into my nape from behind.

More languid hours passed in a lazy haze of sunbathing, swimming, and kissing. We drifted in and out of conversation, existing together in that perfect moment, letting the world outside the bay disappear.

We stayed like that for a long time, floating, until our stomachs started to rumble, reminding us of the feast in our hamper.

Back on the beach, we ate in comfortable silence—stromboli with olives, sun-dried tomatoes, ham, salami, and cheese, accompanied by fresh fruit and cold lemonade.

For dessert, I shared my lemon and pine nut biscottis, which were crisp and sweet.

Everything tasted better under the sun.

It helped that we were alone on our corner of the shore, hidden from any view by the rocky incline on either side.

The deserted shoreline and the ocean stretched before us, waves splashing on the golden sand.

It was perfect.

Rio reclined next to me on my outsized towel, his eyes half-closed. The sea breeze tousled his hair.

One knee up and bent, the other on the ground, showing off his thick muscled thighs, and their dark hair whorls.

I couldn’t stop staring at him. At the sharp lines of his jaw, the ink peeking out from under his loose vest, the way his corded chest rose and fell with each breath.

He was so at ease, so utterly captivating, that a profound pull inside of me.

Unable to resist any longer, I leaned over and kissed him.

It was soft at first, a gentle brush of lips, but the sun and the sea worked their magic on us. The kiss deepened, becoming something more, making my heart race and my skin tingle.

Before I had a handle on it, he was on me, his hands tugging off my bikini bottom and tearing off my tee.

I went hard for his swim shorts and bit my lip as my prize was revealed.

Although there was a small risk we might be seen, I felt comfortable.

Leaning in, he suckled on my breast as I arched into his mouth and took possession of his thickened shaft, stroking and caressing his cock with intensity.

With a grunt, he broke away from my tits and dove lower, parting my legs with rough urgency and setting his scorching lips on me.

I cried in abandon as his tongue worked my clit, flicking hard.

He alternated the unrighteous teasing with sucking on it while his fingers plumbed my pussy.

There was only so much a woman could take.

‘I want you inside me now,’ I snarled.

He drifted back to my lips, lavving and licking all the way up.

‘She’s so hungry for my cock,’ he grunted into my mouth.

‘Always,’ I whispered, widening my legs.

‘ Pronto ?’ he growled, settling his hips over mine.

I managed to nod when he slid in, thrusting with force to the hilt, aided by my slippery wetness.

We both hissed at the contact, loving our connection.

I was so ready for him and surged my pelvis up to meet him.

We fucked long and hard, moving from between quick, deep pistoning to languid slow glides, lips melded, hands gliding over each other.

My spine convulsed with such intense sensation I moaned as I exploded in wave after wave of bliss.

Rio, too, bottoming out inside me with a muffled grunt, his face buried in my nape as his muscled frame drove his cock hard as he came.

When we parted, I was breathless, panting.

Rio rolled off me and found wipes in the picnic basket. We cleaned up and dressed before reaching for each other once more for a languid kiss.

Rio lifted off me, eyes darker than usual; his gaze locked on mine with an intensity that made my pulse quicken.

‘ Leonessa , you’re a freakin’ high risk to my soul,’ he whispered, his voice rough with emotion.

I smiled, leaning against his shoulder as we reclined back on the blanket. ‘You’re the one who likes to play with fire, bringing me here,’ I teased, stroking his muscled torso.

I appreciated the love and sexual connection I’d found. It seemed like I’d stumbled on treasure.

I’d never thought such fulfillment, liberation, and sheer joy would be mine after a long period of loneliness.

Still, I was hedging my bets.

Rio had never given me any indication that he was serious about me.

Lying on his chest, playing with the whirls of hair on his lower stomach, I wondered if all I was to him was a superb lay.

I also speculated whether my self-questioning meant I was warming up to wanting more with him.

But would he ever accept all of me? My dark, shadowed past? My sad mistakes? My loser brothers?

I doubted it.

Despite his casual ease and sensual energy, I sensed he was a savvy operator, a strategic thinker.

A man who probably, if he eventually married, would do it for only an incandescent love, with a sweet, kind, pure woman. One with an unblemished history.

Not someone like me, an ex-junkie masquerading as an elegant gallery owner with a messed up past and fucked up family.

The thought depressed me for a moment, and I blinked back tears, even as his arm tightened around me.

Live in the present, I told myself. It was the only way I’d survived these last few years.

By the time the sun began to set, casting the sky in hues of orange and pink, I pulled my head back together. I flashed a smile at him as he knifed up from the towel.

We packed up the remnants of our picnic and headed back to the car, hand in hand.

As Rio drove us back toward Naples, I stole glances at him from the passenger seat.

I loved how his solid and sinewed hands gripped the wheel and the quiet look on his face.

If he was meant to be mine, he would be.

If not, I’d endured enough pain to weather the agony of his departure. I’d survive.

Or would I?

I reached out, sliding my hand into his, and he glanced over at me with a smile that caused my stomach to flutter.

We didn’t need words in that moment. For once, I forced myself not to think about tomorrow.

Just him. Just us.

VALERIO

I woke up to the sound of Chiara moving around the kitchen, the faint clatter of dishes, and the muted hum of music filling the early morning quiet.

A jazz number, a classic, I thought to myself.

Billi Holliday or Ella Fitzgerald.

My woman had style.

Fuck, I was already calling her mine.

I sat with the thought for a moment. It felt right.

So I kept trucking.

I rolled from her bed and hit the shower with a smile.

Twenty minutes later, I sauntered into the kitchen and broke out into a grin.

She was dancing.

To Bruno Mars.

Hips swinging, hands in the air, lost to joy.

She wore loose pants and a cut-off top, her feet bare.

She always moved with grace, even when she didn’t realize it, in a seamless rhythm and roll of her stunning hips.

I gazed at her for a few moments, leaning against the doorway. Admiring the sway of her body, the tumble of her tawny, thick hair, and the play of sunlight on her glowing skin.

She was fucking beautiful.

When I stepped in to wrap my arms around her from behind, she turned, giving me a small smile.

Our eyes locked, and my soul lurched. Damn this woman.

‘You’re up early,’ she murmured, all husky and raw, sending a jolt to my cock.

‘I might say the same about you.’ I raised an eyebrow, wanting her with a sharp ache.

‘Good,’ she declared, shifting to give me a long, languid kiss that had me diamond hard in seconds.

She smirked when I inched a hand under the cut-off but gripped my straying fingers, stopping me. ‘There’s somewhere we need to be.’

I exhaled with regret, the enticing idea of morning sex evaporating. ‘Where?’

Her gaze flickered down like she was considering keeping it to herself, but she sighed, giving in. ‘I have an appointment today. Something I’ve been meaning to do.’

‘An appointment?’ I didn’t like the sound of that. Not with everything going on. ‘Where?’

‘It’s nothing to worry about,’ she said, her voice tinged with a hint of exasperation. ‘I run an art class for refugee kids. It’s in a neighborhood a few blocks from where my gallery is. It’s important to me.’

I frowned, the tension building in my chest. ‘You didn’t think to tell me?’

‘I didn’t think I had to. I’ve done this a million times, Rio. It’s a safe place.’

Safe.

That word again, like it meant something when we both understood that it didn’t. Not anymore. Not with men like Nicco Barbieri circling.

‘I’m coming with you,’ I growled with no room for argument.

‘Rio—’

‘No,’ I cut her off. ‘You don’t get to go anywhere alone right now. Not until this mess with Barbieri is over. You get that, belleza ?’

Her shoulders dropped, but she nodded, understanding. It wasn’t only her life at stake—mine, too.

I wasn’t about to let her walk into some unknown without me.