Princess Curvy: A Curvy Girl's Italian Affair

by Reed, Kristabel

  Her movements were more slashes against the paper than actual smooth curves and lines. “Humph,” she grumbled. “He should know I’m a dangerous woman.”

  She tossed her pencil to the side and glared at her paper. No, she didn’t really believe that about Adam. Still. Three weeks was a long time and she missed him. Snatching up her mobile, she scrolled through her contacts.

  “René is always asking me to his yacht, wants to take me to Monaco.” She didn’t dial him and kept scrolling. “Antonio has invited me to his house in Los Angeles. I should go, just to spite Adam.”

  She didn’t dial him, either. Natalia glared at her mobile and let it drop back to the table.

  Natalia sat in the chair in her office, where she’d retreated to cool her temper. She’d already snapped at Gina twice today, and Violet had refused to go anywhere near her. It was her own fault, this mood. Her own fault for keeping her feelings bottled up.

  She wasn’t one to keep her emotions in check, pushed down and trampled on. But this thing with Adam had her all twisted up in knots, confused and, annoyingly enough, yearning for him.

  Natalia had never yearned for a man.

  “Humph,” she grumbled again.

  Sighing, she let her head fall back against the chair. In the almost three weeks since Adam had had to leave her and wrap up the case, she’d refused to mope. She’d put her time to good use expanding her fashion line. Oh, she thought about him often, and the more time that passed, the more she realized how deep her feelings for him ran.

  It didn’t seem to matter that they’d known each other for less than seven days. It didn’t matter that they’d started an affair with no intention of falling in love. Or she hadn’t intended to, at least. And it certainly didn’t matter that she didn’t know much about him.

  What Natalia did know about Adam Clayworth was that he was dedicated, honest, and determined. He went after what he wanted and what was right, and he didn’t care whether or not the proper authorities okayed his mission.

  More than that, Natalia knew Adam loved her.

  She jerked upright in the chair. Loved her? Where did that come from? Why had those specific words popped into her head? They’d never said anything about love.

  Loved her. She let the words roll about her tongue, the emotion settle around her heart. It felt warm and right, and Natalia wondered why she’d been so surprised.

  Then again, perhaps it was just as well he hadn’t said anything before he left. Now, three weeks later, she knew she’d most likely have panicked if he had. But what he had said had been enough for her to hold on to during the weeks he’d been mopping up this banking mess.

  The thought made her heart flutter, and Natalia had never before considered herself one to have a fluttering heart. Love him. Yes, she realized slowly, relaxing in her office chair. Love.

  And that realization made her miss him all the more. She missed the way he knew her, not just her body—well not only her body, but her moods. How he conveyed his thoughts with a touch, a look, a smile or a laugh.

  The intimacy of her relationship with Adam continued to amaze her.

  Was she crazy? It’d only been a short time. She had to be out of her mind! Yes, she could accept that, accept she was crazy. But also accept that in only a few days together, she’d fallen in love with Adam Clayworth.

  Her realization made her miss him all the more.

  She refused to mope any longer than the day, well, day and a half, she’d allotted for eating gelato and mini cannoli from Luigi’s Bakery. She may have holed up in her townhouse for a couple days. Two but they didn’t count. But it was less than a week, definitely. And if she checked her phone every hour, she’d only texted him once.

  Maybe twice.

  And though it went against her Italian nature she’d done her best, her absolute gritting her teeth to not be demanding best, to keep her interactions with him casual. Yes, casual and light and easy going. Natalia was very proud of herself.

  Despite her casual lightness, all she really wanted was to hear his voice. And feel his skin against hers again. And most of all, she wanted to know when he was coming home—home? Well, back to Milan.

  Really, Adam needed to tell her these things.

  But they’d only had one conversation—one! One lousy conversation. Did he really think an Italian woman could live on one conversation? And Natalia didn’t, no she did not, feel guilty about wanting more from him. Even if she knew and understood he did important things.

  Adam needed to understand she was important, too.

  Unfortunately, they’d only managed to talk that once, a hurried conversation where he sounded exhausted. Natalia wanted to comfort him, hold him close until all the tension drained from his body. And then replace it with a different kind of delicious tension until they both climaxed.

  So, in the best style of women everywhere who weren’t rejected, but didn’t have their lover with them, and who most certainly weren’t moping Natalia threw all her energy into her new line: Curvy Girls Spy Wear.

  Eh, maybe the name needed a little work.

  But she liked the idea of it and knew others would, too. For the last three weeks she’d worked tirelessly on her designs, immersing herself in work.

  Rolling her shoulders to ease the tension there, Natalia thought maybe a night off might be in order. A night off with wine, of course, and maybe a hot bath.

  There was a perfunctory knock on her door and then Violet and Gina entered. Natalia sat up and watched them warily, but they entered the office, closed the door behind them, and simply looked at her.

  “She’s got the blues,” Gina said, elongating blues dramatically.

  Violet nodded, arms crossed over her chest. “She hasn’t painted herself blue. You and your bloody Americanisms.”

  Gina snorted. “You and your foul mouth.”

  Natalia stood and said haughtily. “You have a boyfriend”—she pointed to Gina—“and you have a husband.” She pointed to Violet and sniffed. “And I’m going home.”

  Nodding decisively, she grabbed her purse and spring jacket and walked past them. “You two can debate my mental state—” she pointed between the pair of them again as she walked out—“while I’m not here.”

  Her driver Enzo waited for her at the rear door, and she silently slipped into the car. The drive to her townhouse was unremarkable, and Natalia felt some of the weeks’ tension leave her. Who knew being in a long-distance relationship could be so draining?

  It wasn’t until she stepped up to her front door that she realized she’d forgotten her keys. Cursing, she pinched the bridge of her nose and sighed. At least Carlotta was home.

  “Scusi,” someone said in Italian behind her. “Scusi.”

  “How can I help you?” She turned, her best distantly polite smile on her face. Adam stood on the walk, luggage in hand. Natalia blinked and stared, unable to believe her eyes.

  “I’m sorry,” he said in English. “My Italian is terrible.” He walked closer, his voice dropping to a low sexy sound that sent shivers through her. “But I was wondering if you knew a place I could stay for the night.”

  Natalia opened her mouth to continue their little game, but no words emerged. Instead she found herself hurtling into his arms and holding him tight. She might never let him go. Her mouth on his, she kissed him hard and hungry, a messy press of lips and tongue.

  His taste exploded on her lips, and Natalia swept her tongue over his, seeking more. She pressed every curve against him, Adam’s hands on her ass as he pulled her closer. Then closer still.

  “Adam,” she breathed, pulling back slightly to see him.

  “I missed you.” There was no joking in his voice, no teasing. It was utterly serious and dead sexy.

  Natalia kissed him again, slower this time, savoring. When she pulled back, breathing heavy, she took his hand and tugged him up the walk. Only to remember she still didn’t have her house keys. With a deep sigh, Natalia rang her own doorbell and waited for Carlo
tta to answer.

  “Signore Adam,” Carlotta said with a significant look at Natalia. “It’s good you’ve finally returned. Natalia was beginning to give me a headache.”

  To her amazement, Natalia felt herself blush. But Adam squeezed her hand and she relaxed, though she did narrow her eyes at Carlotta.

  Unrepentant, Carlotta shrugged. “Eh, I’ll leave you be.”

  Alone in the foyer, with Adam’s luggage on the floor, Natalia debated for the briefest of heartbeats whether to lead him to the living room or bedroom. She did not want to deal with Carlotta. Bedroom it was.

  She grabbed his smaller carry-on and tugged him up the stairs. A million questions tumbled in her mind, but Natalia kept silent. She wanted to ask about the case, about Carlo and Rosina. More, she wanted to know if Adam missed her as much as she had him.

  “You terrible, terrible man,” she said, watching him carefully, drinking him in as if it’d been years instead of weeks since she’d seen him. “It’s been forever! I thought I’d never see you again.”

  Her hand squeezed around his and Natalia found it impossible to look away. She kept her voice light when she added, “I thought I’d been abandoned.”

  “I’ve done nothing but think about you,” Adam murmured against her ear, his lips just grazing her skin. “I missed you.”

  The instant they crossed into her bedroom, Adam dropped his suitcase and kissed her. His body pressed hers against the wall, his hands cupping her face in that way that made her feel precious and loved and wanted. His mouth explored hers for a long, long moment.

  He pulled back and Natalia took that moment to breathe deeply, regaining some semblance of balance.

  Pulling him onto the bed, she laughed and curled comfortably against his side. Her fingers traced his ribs, lazily stroking his stomach. “Tell me everything.”

  “There’s not much to tell,” he admitted, his hand rubbing down her back as she liked. “A lot of people got arrested, which I’m sure you saw on the international news. The Commission confiscated millions in Euros.”

  “What of Carlo and Rosina?” she asked, arching into his touch.

  “After Carlo gave his statement,” Adam said, pulling her closer, “they moved someplace else in Europe. My understanding is they’re living quite well—Carlo was awarded a finder’s fee from the confiscated money.”

  Natalia grinned wryly but sighed. “Pity. Rosina was such a good customer.”

  “I think she insisted on plastic surgery,” he offered and she laughed with him.

  “It’s something she’d ask for yes. I can see that.” Natalia shook her head and let her laughter trail off.

  His fingers pressed against her hip, lips brushing the top of her head. Natalia let out a contented sigh and closed her eyes.

  “I’ve got a promotion with the Commission,” he continued then paused. “But I will need to go back to London to testify.” Adam pulled back and titled her chin up. “Until then, I’m the new EU representative in Milan,” he said with a wicked grin.

  Natalia blinked. At first she thought she’d heard wrong—wishful thinking and all. But he looked so serious, those dark eyes of his intent on hers. Joy burst through her, and she pressed her lips to his before she thought about it too much.

  “Then we must celebrate.” Her voice was heavy with desire, breathless, and for once she didn’t care. She pressed her lips to his again and slipped her hand beneath the collar of his shirt. “I missed you, too.”

  Natalia pulled back. She watched him seriously—she wanted him to know she meant every word. Wanted him to know how much he meant to her. “I want to do more traditional, yes. I want you to take me to a dinner that isn’t a banquet. And on a vacation that isn’t a hideout.”

  She laughed and felt freer than she’d ever felt, as if admitting all this, admitting how she felt for him and what she wanted for the future, had lifted a burden she wasn’t aware she’d been carrying. Natalia didn’t tell him she loved him; she felt it was too soon for those words.

  But the way his eyes darkened, the way he watched her so intently, the way his hands slid down her back and over her hips, she knew he understood.

  “And I’d rather see a movie with a car chase than be nearly hit by one,” she added with a grin.

  “I’d rather that, too. All of it,” Adam admitted. “I don’t want anything ever to come close to taking you away from me.”

  Epilogue

  Not quite a year later

  Paris, France

  Fashion Week

  Every year she did this to herself. Most of the time she thrived on it; the frantic rushing and utter chaos that came with Fashion Week was one of her favorite times of the year. A hectic mess—yes, that was apropos.

  Natalia loved watching her fashions on the walkway, and more than that, she loved knowing hers were superior to many of those for the so-called skinnier women.

  Humph.

  She hadn’t had a chance to sit since before the sun rose, her feet hurt, she was starving, and she was fairly certain she’d taken more headache pills than were recommended. But she buzzed with energy and the smile on her face was absolutely genuine.

  The one thing she did not like were journalists. They snarked and probed and asked stupid questions, only to twist everything she said anyway, so why bother to quote her?

  “Yes, yes,” she said to one with a bright smile and a quick wave as she took a step back. “Thank you!”

  She turned on her heel and walked away, making sure to add a little extra swing to her hips. Because she could. Adam stood along one of the back corridors, arms folded over his chest as he watched her.

  Just watched her.

  His brown gaze slid over hers with barely concealed hunger. Natalia’s heart beat faster and her breath caught. For weeks she’d been exhausted when she came home, dropping into bed next to Adam with barely a kiss good night.

  Now, with the week behind her, and despite the exhaustion tugging her limbs, Natalia felt all the energy and passion she’d put into her designs and into this week shift. Adam closed the distance between them in two long strides and pulled her to him.

  His mouth crushed hers in an all-too-brief kiss. “All I wanted to do all day is pull you into one of those secret little back rooms,” he admitted, his mouth still against hers. “And enjoy every inch of your curves.”

  Natalia hummed against his lips, her hands combing through his hair as she pulled him back to her. “If I had a spare moment”—she sighed—“I’d have let you.”

  She pulled back and winked at him. Natalia slid her finger over the wedding ring he wore, a little thrill going through her at the reminder. “For now, we’ll have to leave our newlywed activities until later.”

  Adam’s free hand came up to cup her cheek, his lips a soft brush over hers. “Come on,” he said reluctantly and pulled back. “Everyone’s waiting for us.”

  He led her into the banquet hall, where her friends stood off to the side. The Gideon Paris was mobbed, but somehow they’d managed to find a relatively quiet corner to themselves. Natalia stepped up to Eliza and kissed both her cheeks.

  “You look stunning,” Natalia said to the other woman with a glance down at her belly. At six months pregnant, Eliza glowed. And wore Natalia’s new maternity wear rather well, if she did say so herself.

  Eliza’s husband, Craig, wrapped his arm around his wife. “She always does.”

  Natalia laughed and kissed him hello, too. “You finally settled down with the right woman. I’m so happy for you both.”

  “I’m happy for me, too.” Craig winked.

  Natalia laughed again and turned to Gideon. “Gideon, handsome as ever.” She turned to Sabrina and winked. “Sabrina, your gown is magnificent!”

  It was, of course, a Principessa Natalia design. It just wouldn’t do to wear any other designers here. Not during Fashion Week.

  Kissing Gideon’s cheeks she added, “Thank you so much for loaning me your architect, Mr. Kamari. The boutique here i
n Paris is going to be sublime.”

  “Kamari is thrilled to design it. We were just talking about it,” Gideon continued and looked over her head into the crowd. “He and his wife are around here somewhere.”

  “Ah yes, the beautiful Laura. I had them over for dinner last month.” Natalia frowned. Was it already last month? Yes, the lead-up to Fashion Week had been intense, and she’d not had time for much else.

  Turning to Audrey and Duncan, the earl and countess, she kissed them hello and didn’t bother to hide her grin. She had too much to be happy about and didn’t care who knew it. “I have the perfect place to gather this summer in Portofino,” she said with a glance over her shoulder at Adam, who had stayed to talk with Craig. “It’s right on the beach—all the little ones will love it.”

  She met his gaze and watched them darken, felt her lips curl into a soft smile. A flush warmed her, of arousal yes, but also of love. Who knew she’d fall in love with an English banker?

  Not that she’d change any of their time together. Not one stiff-upper-lip minute.

  “I love the beach,” Sabrina said just as Audrey agreed that she’d love to bring her son to a warmer beach than those England boasted.

  Eliza drifted over to them until all four women circled together, chatting about a Principessa Natalia swim line. Which was a brilliant idea—why had Natalia never thought of that before? She’d get started on that first thing tomorrow.

  She looked over at Adam once more. No, not tomorrow. Maybe in a couple days, after she spent every moment she could in bed with Adam. After all, she needed time to recharge, yes?

  “It’s so wonderful to have so many friends here,” Natalia said during a lull in the conversation. It had nothing to do with anything, but in that moment she felt every bit the emotional, dramatic Italian she was. Then she grinned. “My beautiful female friends who can fill out a gown properly!”

  “Well you know, Natalia,” Audrey said with a wink, “we all have to cultivate our curves. They may be dangerous but they won’t be avoided!”