by Pamela Yaye
Aurora and Davide stared at each other, their expressions glum.
“Why don’t I send over some sample dresses for your sister to check out?” Zoe proposed, flipping her braids over her shoulders. “If Francesca loves them, which I know she will, we can set up a meeting to discuss investment possibilities. How does that sound?”
“Zoe, that would be great,” he said with a broad smile. “How generous of you.”
Aurora shot to her feet as if the couch were on fire. Zoe offered to help her clear the table, but the fashion designer wouldn’t hear of it. “No, no, be a good guest and visit with Romeo while Davide and I prepare dessert.”
Leaving the room, the couple smiled politely, but Romeo could tell by their demeanor that they were upset. Were they angry about Zoe’s offer? Did they have a problem with the PR director giving away free samples of their clothes? Was Zoe in trouble? He suspected Casa Di Moda wasn’t the big, happy family they wanted him to believe it was, but decided not to share his suspicions with his sister. If he did, it would sour her opinion of the fashion house, and possibly even Zoe, and Romeo couldn’t risk that happening. Zoe was warming up to him, he could feel it, sensed it in her cheeky grin and easy laugh, and he didn’t want to do anything to rock the boat. Not when she’d finally let down her guard.
Pleased to have Zoe to himself, he draped an arm around the back of the couch. “When I tell Francesca about your offer she’s going to be your new BFF. My sister loves free clothes.”
“Every girl does. Buying a woman a fabulous dress is the quickest way to win her heart.”
Romeo made his eyes wide. “Really? Francesca told me it was diamonds!”
“Not for me. Expensive jewelry isn’t my thing—”
“What about concert tickets? Would that win you over?”
“It depends.” Zoe plucked a piece of cheese off the silver tray and chewed it. “I’d be totally stoked to see Adele, Mariah, or Il Divo. They’re an outstanding group, and I’m their biggest fan.”
“Ask and ye shall receive.” Romeo reached into this pocket and took out the tickets. “I hope you don’t have plans on December thirteenth, because it’s Il Divo night.”
Zoe plucked the tickets out of his hand and studied them as if she were committing the details to memory. “This can’t be real. I must be dreaming.”
Amused by her reaction, Romeo studied her, his smile growing by the second.
“T-T-These are front-row seats,” she stammered. “One ticket is two thousand euros. I don’t have that kind of money. It would take me months to pay you back.”
“Zoe, we’re going on a date. It won’t cost you anything.”
Worry lines wrinkled her smooth brow.
“I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but I’m very good at what I do, and I make a decent living at Morretti Finance and Investments.”
Dodging his gaze, she dropped the tickets on the table and shook her head.
“Don’t frown.” Angling his body, he moved closer to her on the couch. “When you do, the light in your eyes fades, and your smile loses its warmth.”
“I can’t go with you to the concert. It’s not a good idea.”
“Why not? I think you’re dope, and I want to date you—”
A smirk curled her lips, distracting him, and Romeo trailed off speaking.
“Dope?” she repeated, the humor evident in her tone of voice. “What is it, 1995? Where’s your boom box, your white Adidas kicks and your gold chains?”
Romeo gave a hearty chuckle. He didn’t mind her poking fun at him, could feel the tension in the air recede as they chatted and laughed together. The instrumental version of the song “This Christmas” was playing on the stereo system, and Zoe sang the words as she gazed out the windows. Lights twinkled in the distance, showering the night sky with brilliant colors. The music added to the peaceful ambience.
“Why do you keep turning me down? I’m starting to think you don’t like me, but what’s not to like?” he joked, playfully popping his shirt collar. “I’m a good old-fashioned Italian boy who’s chivalrous, ambitious and passionate about life—”
“Yes, I’ve heard. You certainly get around.”
Her words gave him pause. Now he understood why Zoe was keeping him at a distance, and decided to put her fears to rest. He didn’t talk about his past relationship with anyone except his family, but he felt compelled to open up to Zoe. Didn’t want her to think he was a lying dog who mistreated women. He wanted her to know the truth about his past, come what may.
“Have I been a Boy Scout? No. Have I dated more than one woman at a time? Yes. Would I settle down and quit playing the field if I met the right woman? Absolutely.” Romeo raised an index finger in the air. “One date. That’s all I’m asking. Come on, Zoe. Don’t make me beg.”
“Why me?” she asked, folding her arms across her chest. “There are tons of women who’d kill to go to the Il Divo concert with you, so why are you sweating me?”
“Sweating you? Is that what you think I’m doing?”
“If the shoe fits...” she said, her voice fading into silence.
Romeo glanced over his shoulder. He heard cupboards slam, high heels smacking against the hardwood floors and strident voices coming from the kitchen. The Bordellios were angry about something, but what?
“Don’t take this the wrong way, but we’re all wrong for each other. I’m ready to settle down and start a family, and you’re busy playing the field.”
Her words bothered him, made him regret his partying, boozing ways in the past. But he didn’t interrupt, listening as she spoke from the heart.
“Furthermore, Lizabeth told me you’re trying to work things out, and I don’t want to come between you. I’m not a home-wrecker, and I don’t want to be labeled one.”
“She said what?”
“That you’re still madly in love and committed to each other.”
Romeo scoffed. The only thing Lizabeth is committed to is my checkbook!
He gritted his teeth. His pulse was racing, his heart beating so fast he feared he needed immediate medical attention. It took supreme effort, but Romeo took a deep breath and spoke in a calm voice. “That’s not true. None of it is. We broke up over a year ago, and I’ve moved on with my life.” He added, “I wish she’d do the same.”
Hope sparked in her big brown eyes. “So, you’re not getting back together?”
“Absolutely not. We’re through, and there’s nothing she could say or do to change my mind.”
“Why would Lizabeth lie to me?”
“Because she knows I’m interested in you.”
“Romeo, quit saying that. You know nothing about me.”
“Of course I do. You’re an avid cyclist who loves swimming, traveling, journaling and pop music,” he said, proud of himself for taking the time to check out her social media pages when he’d returned home from the park that afternoon. “You’re a self-proclaimed shopaholic who’s always on the lookout for a unique find and a great bargain.”
“You did your homework. I’m impressed.”
Zoe wore a pensive expression on her face. He suspected she was contemplating whether or not to go with him to the Il Divo concert. This was a first. He’d met women from all walks of life, from executives to heiresses and international pop stars, but he’d never had to work so hard to convince someone to go on a date with him.
“Over the summer, you were linked to several celebrities in the tabloids. You expect me to believe you’re not hooking up with any of them?”
His eyebrows shot up. Romeo wasn’t used to being asked point-blank questions about his relationship status. He was taken aback by Zoe’s boldness and disappointed by her skepticism. Why didn’t she believe him? What did he have to do to prove that he wasn’t the heartless Casanova the media made him out to be?
“I’m going to be honest, Romeo. I like you, and I want to get to know you better, but not if you’re stringing other women along or playing the field.”
“I’m not, so please don’t judge me by my past mistakes. Accept me for who I am today, a sincere, trustworthy man who’s so damn sexy you can’t stop staring at me.”
Zoe giggled, and the sound of her loud, high-pitched laugh made Romeo so happy he did the unthinkable... He crushed his lips to her mouth.
Chapter 11
Romeo devoured Zoe’s moist, plump lips. Consumed with desire, he savored the taste of her sweet mouth. Flavored with hints of wine and spices, her lips were delicious. Addictive. Stronger than any drug, and Romeo was hooked. He kissed her slowly, softly, with such tender loving care she moaned inside his mouth. As if she were starving and he was dinner. Have it your way! he thought, inhaling her fragrant scent. I’m all in, and eager to please!
Lost in the moment, he stroked her cheeks, her neck, her shoulders, took great pleasure in caressing her smooth flesh. Her scent consumed him, gave him a rush. He’d never desired a woman more, and could think of nothing better than holding Zoe in his arms for the rest of the night. It took every ounce of self-control he had not to slide his hands under her fitted dress.
“That was nice,” he whispered, nibbling on her bottom lip. “Hashtag, best kiss ever.”
Her face lit up, and a girlish smile warmed her lips. “You’re right. That was some kiss.”
Romeo brushed his nose against her cheek, and she purred in his ear. That was all the encouragement he needed. Closing his eyes, he pressed his mouth against hers again. This time, her shoulders didn’t stiffen. She touched his cheek with her palm and gently stroked his skin. Romeo wanted to cheer. To pump his fist in the air. She was warming up to him, and that was reason to celebrate. And they would at the Il Divo concert. Thoughts and ideas crowded his mind, but Romeo pushed them aside. In that moment all that mattered was pleasing Zoe, and he needed to focus on the task at hand.
Her tongue tickled his, sending shivers careening down his spine. He caressed her cheek with his thumb, enjoyed the feel of her skin. Romeo hadn’t planned on making a move, and never imagined their first kiss would be in her boss’s living room, but he had no regrets.
“What are you doing?” she murmured against his mouth.
“Living in the moment.”
Romeo reached out and touched her hair, slowly sliding a braid between his fingers.
“I haven’t been able to stop thinking about you since the day we met,” he confessed, brushing his mouth against hers. “Since nothing would make me happier than taking you to the Il Divo concert, give me an early Christmas present and agree to be my date.”
“How can I refuse when you asked me so nicely? Several times.”
Romeo had nothing to lose and craved the taste of her lips again, so he kissed her passionately with everything he had. To his surprise, Zoe, draped her arms around his neck and pressed her body flat against his. Panting, she explored his mouth, searching, teasing, turning him out with each flick of her tongue. Falling victim to the lust of his flesh, he slipped a hand under her dress and caressed her thighs. Romeo knew he was crossing the line, but he couldn’t stop stroking her warm skin. “The Ill Divo concert is going to be epic,” he whispered.
“Epic, huh? Tell me more.”
“And ruin the surprise? Non c’è modo.”
“No way?” Her lips flared into a pout. “Keep talking like that, Mr. Man, and you’ll be going to the Il Divo concert alone.”
“You’re bluffing. You’re so excited about the concert, I bet it’s all you can think about.”
A grin curled her lips as she spoke to him in Italian.
Romeo liked hearing Zoe speak Italian. Her low, sultry voice was his undoing. His Kryptonite. What pushed him over the edge. He couldn’t resist. Couldn’t stop himself from kissing her over and over again, until he couldn’t catch his breath and had to come up for air. “You have incredible eyes and the most amazing lips.”
“Is that right? And how many women have you used that line on?”
“Just once. I wanted homemade ciabatta, and my nonna refused, so I told her she was the most beautiful woman to ever walk the face of the earth. It worked like a charm.”
Romeo heard his cell phone buzzing from inside his back pocket but ignored it, focusing his attention on Zoe and nothing else. To make her laugh, he joked, “You’re all that and a bag of chips...and a Kit Kat!”
Zoe cracked up. “You must have been a nineties rapper in another life, because you have the lingo down pat.”
“It’s not my fault. My older brothers used to love American hip-hop when I was a kid. It was all they listened to,” he explained, as fond memories came to mind. “We used to have rap battles every day, so I can spit rhymes with the best of them.”
Something crashed to the floor in the kitchen, and Romeo glanced over his shoulder. Zoe said, “I’m going to check on Aurora and Davide.”
“Oh, no you’re not.” Romeo seized Zoe’s hand, forcing her to sit back down on the couch, and entwined his fingers with hers. “You’re not going anywhere. You’re kicking it with me.”
Romeo took his cell out of his pocket, punched in his password and noticed he had several new text messages from Giuseppe and his COO, Simona Vitti. His publicist wanted to meet with him on Monday morning to discuss various social events happening during the holiday season. Romeo was looking forward to touching base with him. He wanted to spend the Christmas holidays with Zoe and was eager to show her off to his friends and family.
Reading the text from Simona caused a frown to curl his lips.
Call me back tonight. It doesn’t matter how late. We need to talk about the deal with Milan Breweries Limited. I have some concerns, and I need to discuss them with you.
Beads of sweat formed on his forehead. Was the million-dollar deal in jeopardy? Were there legal issues? Did the rest of his executive team have reservations, too, or just Simona? Romeo wanted to return her call, but decided to wait until he left the Bordellio apartment. Zoe was opening to him, and he didn’t want to ruin the mood by talking on the phone with his staff. He composed a message to Simona, promising to call her in an hour, then hit the send button.
“You’re a popular guy,” Zoe said, her eyebrows raised in a questioning slant.
“I’m sorry. It’s work. This will only take a minute.”
“Romeo, relax. I’m joking. Take as long as you need.”
As Romeo responded to his text messages, he enjoyed listening to Zoe sing along with the Andrea Bocelli CD playing on the stereo system. Her voice was strong and clear, full of emotion. As she belted out the lyrics to “I’ll Be Home for Christmas,” he realized she was a woman of many talents. Finished, he handed Zoe his cell and draped an arm around her waist. “Enter your birthdate on my calendar, because I go all out for women who smell like heaven, sing like angels and look like centerfolds.”
“Are you sure you’re an investment banker and not in show business?”
“If that’s your way of telling me I’m the bomb, I agree. I am. Just ask my nonna!”
Zoe pressed her lips together, and Romeo could tell she was trying not to laugh.
“I bet you were a handful in elementary school,” she said, with a knowing smile. “You probably had girls fighting over you and pledging their undying love on the playground.”
“I didn’t, but my brothers did. I was a scrawny kid who had no friends and no game.”
Zoe wore a thoughtful expression on her face. “I know how you feel. I was socially awkward, too, and being the tallest person in my class made me an easy target for bullies. If not for my best friend, I never would have survived.”
They sat in silence for several moments, listening to the music.
“I
like this. Us hanging out. We should do it more often.” Watching her type her contact information into his cell, Romeo wished her hands were on him instead of his phone. “Let’s have dinner tomorrow night. Pick a time and place and I’m there.”
“Sorry, Romeo, but I have plans with Jiovanni.”
“Are you free on Monday for aperitivo? We can have drinks at Bar Basso at seven o’clock.” Aperitivo was a way of life in Milan, much like happy hour, it was an excuse for friends, colleagues and business associates to socialize and drink.
“I’ll check my planner and get back to you.”
Romeo nodded as if it was all good, but a plan was taking shape in his mind. If he didn’t hear from her tomorrow he’d drop by Casa Di Moda on Monday and take her out for lunch.
“All done,” Zoe said, handing over his cell phone. “Here you go.”
When he took it from her, their fingers touched and all Romeo could think about was kissing her again.
Zoe started to speak, but it was Aurora’s voice that filled the air.
“How wonderful! I knew you two would hit it off. You’re a perfect match...”
I couldn’t agree more. I’ve never been this enamored with a woman.
“I brought dessert.” Entering the living room holding a silver tray, Aurora wore a bright smile.
“Nothing for me, thanks.” Romeo discreetly glanced at his watch. “I had a great time tonight, but I should get going. I have a full day ahead of me tomorrow, and several important meetings.”
“But it’s Sunday,” Zoe pointed out. “You need a day off just like everyone else.”
No, he argued, his gaze glued to her lips. I need to have you back in my arms so we can finish where we left off.
“You’re a man, Romeo, not a machine,” she continued.
“I can relax when I retire. Until then, I have clients to impress, deals to close and money to make. It’s a tough job, but somebody’s gotta do it. I’m glad it’s me.” Standing, he offered Zoe his right hand. “I’ll take you home.”
“No, thank you. I’d like to speak to Aurora privately, so I’ll call a cab when I’m ready to go.”
