She was wearing a purple halter top that just about restrained her fake tits, and long silver-gray pants that showed off her tiny waist, and skin that was orange from too many sun-beds.
“Ciao!” she purred, leaning next to me on the bar so I could have a look at her tits. I couldn’t help glancing over when they were on display like that, but they weren’t anywhere near as good as Caro’s. No competition. But she’d seen me look, and that was enough.
“Hi,” I said in English, hoping that she’d leave me alone.
“Ah, Inglese? Americano?”
“American.”
“Oh, you are movie actor?”
I laughed and shook my head, subtly taking half a step away from her. But she didn’t take the hint, leaning in closer.
“Are you staying at Il Saraceno?”
I nodded and took another long drink of my beer. “With my fiancée,” I said, raising an eyebrow.
It didn’t slow her down for a second and she laid her hand on my arm in a seemingly friendly gesture, although I knew it wasn’t innocent.
“Congratulazioni,” she said, the smile failing to meet her eyes or move her forehead.
I turned slightly, so she was forced to drop her hand, but then I glanced up the stairs and saw Caro. My breath caught in my throat. So fucking beautiful.
She was always hot, but seeing her dressed up was every fantasy come to life. She gave me a small smile then carefully made her way down the wide staircase, clinging onto the handrail as the silky-blue dress made soft shushing noises by her ankles. I wondered if I could get her to practice walking around our bedroom in high heels. I licked my lips.
When she reached the bottom of the stairs, I walked toward her, took her hand and kissed the back of it softly.
“You look beautiful, Caro.”
“Thank you, kind sir.”
I held out my arm, grinning at her teasing tone. Yeah, yeah. I could be a fucking gentleman. “May I escort you in to dinner, ma’am?”
“Why, yes you may.”
From the corner of my eye, I saw the woman at the bar scowl, then shrug her shoulders, moving onto the bartender who looked worried.
Sorry, buddy, you’re on your own.
I led Caro to our table, waving away the waiter and seating her myself, brushing a lingering kiss over her bare shoulder.
“I can’t wait to get you out of that dress,” I murmured, running my index finger from her earlobe to the base of her neck.
A soft sigh escaped her, and her eyes were only just drifting open when I sat across the table from her, grinning like an idiot.
“Every man in this room wants you, Caro. I’m so fucking proud, I can’t stop smiling.”
“Hmm, well I think you may be a little biased,” she said, raising her eyebrows. “I thought I was going to need a crowbar to pry that woman off you. Is it just me, or had she overdone the fake tan, because I haven’t seen that shade of orange outside of a drag review.”
Was she jealous?
“My girl’s got grit: I like it.”
“I felt like swinging her around by her hair extensions,” Caro admitted, the heat in her eyes making a lie of her mild tone. “Maybe some of your Marine training is rubbing off on me.”
“That comes after the main course.”
“Thank you for today, Sebastian,” she said, her voice becoming serious. “It’s been … perfect. Thank you.”
“It’s been a long time coming, Caro, but it was worth the wait.”
She held up her left hand, examining the ring, turning it so the diamond sparkled in the setting sun.
“Where did you get this beautiful ring? Because I didn’t see any shops in Salerno that…”
“I didn’t get it in Salerno,” I interrupted softly.
Her mouth popped open in surprise. “Then where?”
“Geneva,” I said, grinning at her amazement. “You know I was supposed to be at that fucking dull hostile environment briefing—which they’d given me as part of my ‘rehabilitation’ after Paris…” I raised an eyebrow, “but after I’d seen you … I couldn’t face going back. I was just wandering around trying to get my head together, and I saw it in a jeweler’s shop.”
“But … you still hated me then!”
I shook my head. “I never hated you, Caro, although I tried; I really fucking tried. But I just couldn’t do it.” I sighed and looked away. “That ring has been burning a hole in my pocket ever since. I was just waiting for the right time to give it to you.”
She blinked rapidly, and I really hoped that I hadn’t spoiled things and made her cry again.
“You’ve always been so sure,” she whispered, “I don’t understand why.”
My heart lurched sickeningly. She doesn’t feel the same.
“I told you, Caro. It’s only ever been you.”
She stretched out her hand, focusing on the diamond glinting in the candlelight. “Thank you for giving it to me.”
I caught her fingers and kissed the ring. “Thank you for wearing it.”
At that moment, the Sommelier arrived with a bottle of Prosecco, pouring us a glass each, then stepping away before I had to tell him to fuck off. All I wanted was my woman with me.
I stared into her eyes.
“Thank God for you, Caro.”
“And you, Sebastian, semper fidelis.”
The food arrived, but I couldn’t tell you what we ate. I knew it was good, because Caro was moaning and groaning and licking her lips in a way that no red-blooded man could be immune to. I spent the whole damn meal uncomfortably hard. I was desperate to rush her back to bed, but I could see that she was enjoying herself. And I think we needed this—a moment of calm in the middle of all the crazy … whatever the next few days and weeks would bring. She said we’d have the rest of our lives. I just hoped that she was right.
When we’d finished eating, we walked back up the grand staircase hand in hand. I’d arranged for two glasses of an Italian liqueur to be left on the balcony along with a candle and a rose—romantic shit that I would only ever do for Caro.
I handed her one glass and took the other for myself.
And then I couldn’t wait any longer.
I could hear the surf breaking on the cliffs below and a low buzz of conversation carrying across the air from the restaurant, but neither of us spoke. I tipped the burning liquor down my throat and replaced the glass on the table, before cupping her face with my hands and kissing her slowly and deeply until the room spun around us.
I turned her gently, unzipping her dress, stroking the bare flesh I found underneath. The dress fell to the ground with a soft rustle and she stepped away from it. She looked amazing, wearing only the silver bra and panties that I’d bought her, the candlelight throwing deep shadows across her breasts and stomach. I reached out to touch her, but she shook her head.
Instead, she slid my jacket off my shoulders, tossing it onto a chair, then loosened my bow tie and undid the top button of my shirt while I watched every move.
I leaned forward to kiss her neck and I felt tremors of desire skitter through her body. I scooped her into my arms and placed her carefully onto the bed.
Her deep brown eyes were molten as she gazed up at me, almost unblinking. Only her parted lips and rapid breathing showed that she was as turned on as I was. I unfastened the cufflinks, pulled open the shirt and shrugged it off. Her eyes fastened on my dog tags and an image leapt to the front of my mind: Caro naked except for my dog tags, on all fours.
Shaking my head, I bent down to untie my shoes and remove my socks. I was about to lose the pants, too, when Caro hooked her finger into the waistband and pulled me toward her.
Moving slowly, she slid the button free and lowered the zipper.
The pants joined my jacket on the back of the chair, and my boxer briefs followed. I stood in front of her as her eyes trailed up my body, and I felt the burn of her eyes on my legs, my dick, my stomach, my chest, until they came to rest on my face.