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In For Keeps--A Holiday Fling Romance

Page 8

by Taryn Belle


  CHAPTER EIGHT

  WHEN KIKI AWOKE from a much deeper sleep than she’d expected to have, the bus was still and she could see light around the edges of the blackout blinds. Her ears slowly tuned in to the sound of cars passing outside and Dev’s voice down the hallway. He was in the lounge, she realized, talking to someone on the phone in a tone that told her he was trying not to wake her. She grabbed the same robe he’d put on earlier and walked to the front of the bus to find him.

  The gorgeous sight of him sprawled in a chair was almost surreal. Wearing only a pair of charcoal boxers, he appeared to be in the middle of a slightly heated conversation. But he flipped his hair off his forehead and gave her that smile when she walked in. Jesus, but he was hot. Just the memory of last night had her body zinging. Still talking, he beckoned to her with his finger. She walked over to him and he pulled her down on his lap. “Yeah. Uh-huh,” he said into the phone.

  When the person on the other line started speaking, Dev went for her mouth. She sunk into the kiss, loving how important he made her feel. As if the only person in the world who mattered was her, and everyone else could get fucked.

  So dangerous.

  Ending the kiss, Kiki jumped up from his lap and walked into the kitchen. Two lattes sat side by side on the counter. She picked one up, brought it to her lips—and froze when she caught a glance out the window. She had a sudden urge to rub her eyes to see if the image would go away, just like Alice in Wonderland. Instead, she stepped toward the door and threw it open.

  “Oh, my God!” she screamed, forgetting Dev was on the phone.

  The bus was parked on a narrow cobblestone driveway mere inches from a three-foot drop to the water. Across that water was a row of the most beautifully ornate buildings Kiki had ever seen. To her left, a bridge arched gracefully over two passing gondolas.

  She was in Venice.

  Covering her face in disbelief, she turned toward Dev, who was just putting his phone down. He walked over and wrapped his arms around her. “Surprised?”

  “You think? It’s amazing! But we’re supposed to be in Rome. How...?”

  Dev shrugged. “I caught the driver just in time. We were just approaching Bologna, so it was an easy detour to have him head east.”

  “Wow. I—I don’t know what to say.”

  “Don’t say anything. Just thank me later,” he said, sliding his hand into the robe to palm her breast. The way he touched her—insistent, powerful, claiming. Enough to turn her world inside out and upside down over and over again. Fuck.

  She batted his hand away. “If you wanted to spend the day doing that, you shouldn’t have brought me to the most gorgeous city in Europe. Right now no offense, but Venice wins.”

  Dev grinned. “None taken. Let’s get dressed—we’ve got lots to do.”

  * * *

  “Holy fucking shit,” Dev said to Kiki when she stepped out of the dressing room. He licked his lips hungrily. “Turn around.”

  Kiki did a slow turn in front of him. Watching the rows of herself reflected back in the three-way mirror, she willed her tell-all cheeks not to blush. She wasn’t used to being on show, especially for a pair of eyes like Dev’s. Though she knew how to play up her round blue eyes, unique hair color and tiny figure, she hadn’t been blessed with height, large breasts or the world’s slimmest hips. And yet Dev, who’d been with more Victoria’s Secret models than she could count, didn’t just make her feel beautiful—he made her feel like an absolute sex goddess. It made zero sense, but maybe that was just part of the dream. Because today, Kiki was letting herself pretend her life was a perfect fantasy.

  Dev stopped her spin with two hands on her waist, then he pressed his groin into her backside. The saleslady turned away, discreetly busying herself with folding a thousand-dollar T-shirt. “My cock just decided this is the dress,” he said quietly into Kiki’s ear.

  “I noticed,” she said as he pulled her against himself firmly. Sure enough, she could feel the beginning of a healthy erection between her cheeks.

  “Think anyone would notice if I took you into that change room and fucked you senseless?” His mouth was at the back of her neck, trailing shiver-inducing kisses along her shoulder. He brought a hand around and cupped her breast. God—here he was, so famous that three people had stopped him for his autograph today, and he didn’t even care who saw them. With her.

  All part of the fantasy, she thought. “My screams of passion might give us away.”

  “Then I guess I’ll have to settle for taking this dress off you later. And this time, we’re going to go slowly.”

  Hot anticipation pulsed through her. “Promises, promises.”

  Dev finally released her after tipping her face sideways for one last deep kiss. Blushing like a preteen, Kiki stepped back into the change room and shut the door. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. It was all so goddamned perfect—too perfect. Dev was a dream come true, and she was riding the wave as if this could last forever.

  Just pretend it can.

  When she opened her eyes again, the mirror showed her exactly what she was: a woman in the grips of a passionate affair. Flushed, happy, sexy. And the dress suited her new persona. Made of cream silk, it hugged her body just enough to show her figure without being too overt. A draped neckline fell open above her breasts, and below the midthigh hemline she wore a pair of patent-leather nude heels. And beneath it all was a set of lacy white lingerie so luxurious she could barely feel it against her skin. Pure Prada, and together worth more than she made in two months. She felt like she was in Pretty Woman, minus the prostitution part.

  Kiki gathered up the tired clothing she’d worn into the store. She should have known she’d lose the battle that had started the minute she and Dev stepped away from the tour bus. Looking at the same skirt and top she was stuck wearing from yesterday, Dev had insisted on taking her shopping for something new. Kiki had felt weird about him spending money on her, but he’d finally convinced her that it was a very dangerous idea for her to go out for dinner with no panties on. She’d given in on the condition they find an H&M, but instead he’d run with her compliance and directed their gondola to the high-end Le Mercerie shopping district. There he’d steered her into the Prada store, watched as she tried on dress after dress, and found so many excuses to caress and kiss her that her whole body felt scorched by his touch. All she could think about was getting to their hotel later and burning up the sheets with their insatiable desire.

  She smoothed her hair with her hands and refreshed her lip gloss before she exited the change room. Dev took her skirt and top and dropped them into the Prada bag. “Thank you,” Kiki said, dropping a kiss on his mouth.

  “I’ll collect my payment later,” he murmured.

  By the time they’d settled into a gondola to make their way to dinner, the sun had dropped low in the sky to bathe the entire city in a magical golden light. Kiki sat on the bench with Dev’s arm around her, trying to enjoy the quiet. Dev had orchestrated the entire day—a tour of Doge’s Palace, the most incredible ravioli al formation con salvia at an intimate trattoria and watching the pigeons at Piazza San Marco. Kiki had learned about Dev’s hilarious delinquent high school antics, the family media business his brother had taken over, his mother’s passing from a heart attack four years ago and the details of the renovations he’d put into his Moretta home. Each story grew her attraction to everything he was—funny, principled, intelligent and humbler than she ever could have imagined. She loved the sexy way he leaned back in his chair with one elbow hooked over the back of his seat, the way he stroked his chin when he was trying to remember something. She could have filled her entire day with him, but she knew her time to do that was coming to an end. She’d already dodged his inquiries into her divorce and her family with a few humorous cracks. And now, as Dev held her against him in the boat, the silence wasn’t uncomfortable to Kiki—it was dangerous.
/>   “Your call sounded a little heated this morning,” she said, running a hand up his back. “Everything okay?”

  “Hmm?” Dev seemed to be reeling his mind back to her. What is he thinking about? she wondered. Does he still like me after spending a whole day with me?

  She banished the thought, hating the jab of insecurity. He’d done more than enough to reassure her of how wanted she was. Why was her default to assume she wasn’t worthy?

  “Oh, it was just Bix,” Dev replied dismissively. “Trying to keep me under his thumb as usual. Maybe one of these days he’ll figure out that I’m the one who pays him.”

  “I take it he didn’t approve of your little detour?”

  “Bix likes me where he can see me. Like I’m going to blow the whole tour by taking one day away from the schedule. You’d think he’d have learned that isn’t my style after seventeen years of working together, but there you go.” He shook his head. “I shouldn’t bitch about him so much. He can be hard to take, but his heart’s in the right place. I owe him my life.”

  Kiki glanced at Dev’s profile. It was a statement bordering on heavy, but she got the feeling it was a topic he didn’t enjoy discussing. She watched a seagull circle and dip overhead as the gondola pulled up to their destination.

  “Grazie,” Dev said to the man after he’d paid, and then he offered Kiki his arm. She giggled at the old-fashioned gesture. “You’re going to love this place,” Dev said as they strolled along the water. “They have the best pomodoro ever. I used to come here whenever I was in town, but that’s not too often anymore.”

  “Why not? Venues here too small for you?” Kiki teased.

  When he didn’t answer, she laughed. “I’m right, aren’t I? I guess playing for less than twenty thousand isn’t really worth your while.”

  “It’s a matter of economies of scale. I love it, though—the intimacy of a smaller room. Bix used to book a few of those along the way, but lately he’s all about the big box.”

  She shook her head in wonder. “Where was your first-ever performance?”

  “You really want to know?” he asked with a sideways glance.

  “I do.”

  He sighed deeply. “Hollywood Bowl.”

  Kiki’s jaw dropped as they stopped in front of a restaurant called La Columbina. “Are you serious? Your first show? Most artists get years to warm up in front of club audiences. How did you even deal?”

  Dev held the door for her. “I admit it wasn’t my most enjoyable night. I actually felt like a total failure, if you want to know the truth.”

  Something in his voice pulled her eyes toward his face. There was that distant expression again; was she reading too much into it?

  “I think you should see it differently,” she said as she stepped inside the restaurant. “You did something that scared the shit out of you and you conquered it. And look at you now—you refused to let fear stop you.” She gave him an admiring smile, but Dev was busy looking for the maître d’. The restaurant was pure charm, with pale yellow tablecloths, white peonies on the tables and hurricane lamp lighting. A pianist played a classical piece in a corner of the room. Kiki glanced down at her outfit; it was perfect.

  Abandoning his conversation when he spotted Dev, the maître d’ rushed over to them with a huge grin on his face. “Signor Stone, what a pleasure,” he said in a heavy Italian accent. “It has been too many years too long since I made your acquaintance.”

  Dev shook his hand. “Hello, Giorgio. It’s wonderful to see you again.”

  The man’s eyes switched to Kiki. “And who is the most beautiful young lady?”

  “This is Kiki. And she’s all mine, so hands off,” Dev joked, pulling her into his side. Kiki’s belly flopped over. All mine. It was what she dreamed of, wasn’t it? To belong to Dev, and for him to belong to her? For today to be only the first of a thousand spent strolling exotic cities hand in hand, for the two of them to find that special combination of heat, compatibility and shared values that pointed toward forever?

  No, not to find it—to simply acknowledge it. It was already there, plain as day for both of them to see. And tomorrow she would remind herself of the reason that could never be. But not tonight.

  At their small table, Kiki settled into the chair Giorgio pulled out for her. “Too far away,” Dev announced the moment the maître d’ left, and swung his chair around so he was sitting at a ninety-degree angle from her. Her belly warmed pleasantly. She couldn’t ever be close enough to him, and that he felt the same way made something inside her ache. He pressed his knee into hers and stroked her thigh as she started scanning the menu. She was down to secondi piatti, trying to figure out what controfiletto di manzo might be when she felt Dev’s eyes on the side of her face.

  “Kiki?”

  She looked up into his mesmerizing eyes. “Yes?”

  “Would you mind telling me what’s wrong?”

  Her brows drew together as her heart thumped. “Wrong? What are you talking about? This has been the best—”

  “I’m not saying you’re not having a good time,” he said, pushing a hand flat against hers. “But the Kiki I know is rarely at a loss for words, and I’ve heard way too much of my own life story today.”

  She kept her gaze steady. “I guess... I’ve just been really enjoying getting to know you.”

  Dev flipped her hand over and traced a spiral on her palm. God, how did he make every little touch feel so good? “I want to do the same thing, Kiki. Getting to know your body has been...incredible. I can’t even sit beside you without thinking about what I want to do to you next. But there’s so much in here—” he tapped a finger to her temple “—that I want to learn about you. And I feel like you’re afraid to tell me.”

  Kiki opened her mouth, but words failed her. Dev’s ability to see right into her and call her on her fears, his desire to truly know her was something she’d never experienced. This was a man who wouldn’t allow her to replace painful honesty with humor or deflections, who would block her escape attempts and force her to confront her issues. She understood in that moment that the intimacy of their bodies was a mirror for the raw truth Dev wanted from her, and for the trust he was already handing over to her.

  It was terrifying.

  Only two people in the world knew Kiki’s deepest, darkest secret. But she didn’t need to spill that tonight, she told herself. All she owed him was the very best she could do right now.

  She sat back in her chair, creating a little distance between them. “I’ve never been great at talking about myself. Just ask Nicola—it drives her crazy. But I... I want to be. With you, I mean. But it doesn’t come naturally.”

  Dev gave her a disarming smile, lightening the moment. “It’s easy—just tell me all your hopes, dreams and fears. Or if you want, you can start by telling me about your family.”

  She let out a sharp laugh. “Can we talk about something else, maybe? Like how badly I failed calculus?”

  “Sure. But after that I’ll still want to know about your family. So unless you get really turned on by math talk, you might just want to skip it.”

  Her hands spread out on the table as if she were bracing herself. She nodded. “Okay, then. Well, I’m an only child, and I have a wonderful father. I mean it—he’s like the Rock of Gibraltar. He’s a bridge engineer, but he retired a few years ago. He’s not wealthy, but he was always smart with his money.”

  Dev smiled. “So the father isn’t the bad guy in your picture—I’m glad to hear that. What’s his name?”

  “Lawrence.”

  Dev passed her the bread basket, which was laden with rosemary focaccia. Kiki took a piece and poured olive oil onto her side plate. Just then the waiter stepped in to take their order, which Dev managed to rattle out in charming broken Italian.

  “What about your mother?” Dev asked the moment the waiter stepped away.
r />   “Dad remarried when I was ten. Deirdre’s...great.” Kiki quickly dipped a piece of bread in her oil.

  “I sense words unspoken.”

  She shrugged. “She is, really. Just...we never bonded as well as we should have. I blame myself.”

  Dev raised an eyebrow.

  “I guess I wasn’t the most accepting stepdaughter,” she continued. “She wasn’t my real mother, and...” Kiki trailed off. Since she’d only talked about her family dynamics with a handful of people in her life, she didn’t have the go-to phrases ready to explain everything neatly the way some people did.

  “Your birth mother. Is she not in the picture?”

  Kiki took a breath. “She isn’t. She, uh, left when I was six.” She reached for her water glass, wishing the waiter would show up with her wine. Dev had passed on the alcohol, as usual. Though she respected the hell out of him for staying sober while he was on tour, she had a sudden desire to get stupid drunk with him like she had the night she’d told Nicola her story. But was that really what she needed to talk about her mother? There was something not quite right about that, but she’d never allowed herself to look at it too closely.

  “That must have been so hard,” Dev said, his expression pure empathy. Then he fell silent again, waiting.

  “Sure it was. But I had my father,” Kiki assured him with a bright, don’t-pity-me smile. “It could have been so much worse.”

  Dev pushed a strand of hair off her face. “Don’t do that.”

  “Do what?”

  “Discount what you went through. Tell yourself you don’t deserve to feel ripped off or sad or angry about it because some kids lose both parents in a car accident or get beaten or don’t have enough to eat. Of course it could be worse, but it could also be better. She could have not left you.”

 

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