Total pages in book: 81
Estimated words: 75737 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 379(@200wpm)___ 303(@250wpm)___ 252(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 75737 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 379(@200wpm)___ 303(@250wpm)___ 252(@300wpm)
"Is that the loophole, then?" I asked, making his head pop up, brows furrowing.
"What do you mean?"
"I'm no expert, but is it possible that someone could take over a reputable, long-standing import business, and then ship things in right under your nose because they have been someone you've worked with for so long?"
He stared at me for long enough for my stomach to flip-flop, sure I had just said something completely idiotic.
"It is," he told me, voice a little rough. "That is completely possible," he added, moving away from his untouched wine glass, grabbing his phone. "Angelo. Tomorrow morning. Six," he told him, hanging up. "I don't know why we haven't thought of that."
"It's just an idea," I said, shrugging.
"Don't play it down. It could be important. We will know more over the next few days. How's the wine?" he asked.
The rest of the evening went much like that.
Small talk—though we moved away from crime talk, choosing instead to discuss family—about my upbringing, about my initial thoughts when I first visited Venezuela, how it felt leaving it behind after building a life there.
Over the lasagna and garlic bread, we discussed my decision to go into interpreting, talking about my love of language, how I'd been speaking Spanish since birth but then majored in Mandarin because that was the third most spoken language in this country, that it would give me an advantage over others applying for jobs who maybe only spoke English and Spanish.
It was the deepest, longest conversation I had ever had with someone who wasn't related to me. My throat was actually a little sore after we finished cleaning up, both tired, but awkwardly dragging our feet about heading to bed.
I finally made it to mine sometime after nine, sure I would climb into the bed and pass right out, but instead, I lay awake, scrolling through the highlights of our conversations—the sound of his laugh on occasion, something I thought must have been rare for him, and therefore special, the way his eyes lit up when he told stories about his family's antics, the way he reached out across the table to place his hand over mine when I had struggled to speak of my mother's passing.
There was no denying the whole interaction was different, deeper, more intimate.
Intimate.
That was the right word.
I felt connected to him.
I felt like he'd wiggled way in without me even realizing, that he was a small part of me now.
It was a sweet, warm feeling.
But it wasn't long before that warm feeling got a lot less sweet.
It curled down my body, making my breathing fast and shallow, making my breasts feel heavy, making an aching need grow between my legs.
I didn't really think about it.
I didn't want to think about it.
I got back out of bed, went out into the hall, stopped in front of Luca's door, and then, before I could think better of it, I raised my hand and knocked.
There was hardly a pause before the door swung open, before Luca moved into the doorway, his body backlit from the city lights across the Navesink River, making his skin—bare from the waist up—fall into delicious little shadows that dared me to explore them.
Which was exactly what I planned to do.
Chapter Eleven
Romy
I don't know what I expected.
Maybe for him to ask if everything was okay. Or why I was there. Or if I needed something.
The last one would have been an easy answer.
You.
I need you.
But he said nothing as his eyes held my gaze for a long moment—searching, seeming to find answers.
He said nothing.
He just moved out of the way of the door, a silent invitation in.
And I just as silently moved inward.
The space was dark save for the light streaming in from the windows, and I got this strange surge of anticipation over the fact that he didn't even have blinds or curtains should I want them drawn.
Curious onlookers down by the water's edge who turned to look up could see right in.
Intrigued by that idea, I moved forward toward the windows, stopping to look down at the reflection of the moon on the gentle waves, feeling a small bit of calm settling over me.
I sensed him before I heard him, before I felt him. His body moved in behind mine, and I could feel the heat through my robe.
There was nothing for a long moment.
Just the two of us staring off out the window.
Still, my need tripped into overdrive, making me press my thighs tightly together, trying to find some relief.
His hand slid in at my waist then, finding the knot of my robe, releasing it, making the material fall open in the front, baring me up my center, the cool air of the room making goosebumps prickle up over my skin.
Those same fingers traced up the edge of the material, tips grazing my skin ever so slightly.