by Jayne Castel
Luckily, Adriano intervened before the problem escalated. He’d heard from his friend in the police earlier. Mario, who was a police commissioner, told him they’d arrested two more gang members since last night. It was a relief to hear—however, if it hadn’t been for Sabrina, he’d never have discovered the truth.
He needed to thank her … but he wanted to do much more than that.
Ever since their afternoon together, she’d been on his mind. That was why he’d turned up at the restaurant last night; he’d been planning to ask her out again. Only things hadn’t worked out as expected.
Dio, she’d looked good tonight. Her skin had glowed, her thick hair curled from the humidity. She radiated a sensuality that distracted him to the point where he found it difficult not to stare. She was wearing a tight white top that molded to her full breasts. It was also the first time he’d seen her in a skirt. Short and made of light cotton, it showed off her shapely legs.
What are you doing?
Adriano was going through a messy separation. Ever since Helen, he’d sworn off emotional entanglements. Lust he could handle; the rest scared him to death. Problem was, Sabrina wasn’t just sexy, she was everything he wanted in a woman: feisty, strong and self-determined. He should stay away from her—he didn’t need any complications in his life.
Still, he couldn’t stay away from this one.
Sabrina reluctantly made her way down the hallway toward Adriano’s office. She deliberately dawdled, dreading the moment she’d been putting off all evening.
You can’t be surprised, she berated herself as she stopped in front of the office door. He found you snooping around his premises. Of course he knows you’re up to something.
Her palms were sweaty and she rubbed them against her skirt. Then, straightening her spine and inhaling deeply, she knocked on the door.
“Come in.”
She opened the door and stepped into the lion’s den. Adriano was sitting behind his desk, his expression hooded. Sabrina managed a weak smile. “Is now a good time?”
He nodded. “Close the door.”
She did as asked, her smile fading. “Is everything okay?”
He watched her, and Sabrina felt her skin prickle. She had to fight the urge to glance over at the desk calendar. Her Bluetooth headset was still sitting inside—she hadn’t had time to get it back. If he’d found it, she was finished.
“I didn’t thank you last night,” he said eventually.
Sabrina’s heart started to pound erratically. Was he toying with her? She nervously wet her lips, aware that Adriano’s gaze shifted to her mouth as she did so. “That’s okay—you had a lot to deal with. Did things work out okay in the end?”
“They did … thanks to you. Daniele was digging a huge hole for himself—you stopped him.”
Their gazes met and fused. Sabrina stopped breathing; the charge between them was so strong she felt as if she could reach out and touch it.
Adriano rose to his feet and moved toward her. Wide-eyed, she watched him approach; the intensity of his gaze nearly made her wilt. She took a rapid step backward but his hands came up either side of her so that she was effectively pinned against the door.
Then, his mouth came down over hers.
As soon as his lips touched hers, she was lost. Hunger clawed its way up inside her. Her lips parted under his, and she groaned as his tongue sought entrance. The taste of him, the rasp of his stubble against her sensitive skin, the softness of his lips, and the slickness of his tongue made her gasp.
He pushed her hard up against the door and she entwined her arms around his neck, pressing her breasts up against the wall of his chest. She heard him groan into her mouth. The male scent of him overwhelmed her senses. Need for him obliterated all rational thought. He could have taken her there, against the door, and she would have welcomed it.
Adriano tore his mouth from hers and stared down at her. He was breathing hard, as was she. His eyes had gone so dark, it was hard to make out where the pupils ended and the mahogany of his irises began.
“Sabrina,” he murmured her name like a caress.
She shivered with desire and untangled her arms from around his neck, letting them slide down the hard wall of his chest. As she did so, she felt his heart pounding, and a thrill went through her. Then, she felt the hard column of his arousal pressed up against her, and her breathing hitched in her throat.
She had done that to him.
“Is that what you called me into your office for?” she asked huskily.
He gave a soft laugh. “No … I’d been planning to ask if you were free on Sunday morning.”
Sabrina waited a moment, watching him under lowered eyelashes, before she answered. “I am.”
“Have you ever been to Porta Portese market?”
Through the torpor Adriano had induced, Sabrina recognized the name of Rome’s best-known open-air flea market. “No, I’ve been meaning to go though.”
He reached up, tracing her bottom lip with the pad of his thumb. “Would you like to go with me? I can pick you up early, and we’ll get breakfast first.”
Sabrina nodded, barely capable of any coherent thought. His touch left a trail of heat in its wake; every nerve ending in her body was on fire. She wanted him to kiss her again; she wanted to feel his hard body against hers.
As if reading her thoughts, Adriano gave a slow smile. “Please don’t look at me like that. If I kiss you again, I won’t stop.”
Sabrina inhaled deeply. She felt light-headed, as if she’d just downed a glass of champagne on an empty stomach. It took all her self-control not to tell him that she didn’t care if he never stopped kissing her—that she was his for the taking.
Get ahold of yourself.
“I’d best get back,” she murmured.
Adriano released her and stepped back from the door. “I’ll pick you up at 8.30 on Sunday morning then?”
Sabrina nodded and fumbled behind her for the door handle. Damn the man—he had a gaze that could melt stone. How was she supposed to go back to work in this state? After his kiss, she could barely walk.
Without another word, she let herself out into the hallway. Outside, she leaned against the closed door for a moment, composing herself, before she dazedly made her way back to the restaurant.
Chapter Fourteen
Sabrina stared at the glowing computer screen and clenched her jaw. Another email from Helen Bellini wasn’t the best start to the day.
I’m disappointed your lead about the restaurant came to nothing.
What about those photos of his mystery-woman? Why won’t you send them to me? You’re withholding information—information I have a right to.
Sabrina cursed under her breath. She’d known this was coming. She’d been deliberately waiting, as she didn’t have any concrete proof as to the woman’s identity. She didn’t want to fire off the photos until then.
I should never have told her about them.
Sabrina checked the time: 8.20am. Adriano would be here at any minute. Furious with herself, as much as with Helen Bellini, Sabrina hit reply and attached two photos showing Adriano and the woman. The first showed them in front of the building she’d followed him to; the second in the restaurant.
His mystery-woman. Sabrina’s stomach contracted. Ever since Adriano asked her out, she’d avoided thinking about that. However, the images of them on the screen in front of her were sharp reminders of her situation.
Maybe, she’s just a friend …
Sabrina clicked ‘send’, shut her laptop and got to her feet. She paced the tiled floor, her stomach churning.
One kiss and you’re putty in his hands.
Maybe she should cancel … this was getting too complicated. Sure, encouraging Adriano’s attentions was one way to gain access to his life—and his secrets—but it was also risky. When he’d kissed her, she’d forgotten who she was and where she was—never a good idea in her line of work. She was entering unfamiliar, dangerous, territory. Did she h
ave the nerve for it?
The intercom buzzed, and she winced.
A few seconds passed, and it buzzed again.
Woodenly, she moved to the door and pressed the speaker button.
“Si?”
“Morning, Sabrina—it’s Adriano. Are you ready?”
The timbre of his voice caused her breath to catch. “Yes,” she gasped. “I’ll be down in a minute.”
Sabrina stepped back from the intercom and took a deep breath. There was no hiding away in her apartment now.
She retrieved her bag and took a glance in the mirror to make sure the tension didn’t show on her face. It didn’t. Despite everything, the woman staring back at her looked happier than the one who’d stepped off the plane a month ago. She was lightly tanned from her morning walks around the city before work, and her face was the most relaxed she’d seen it in years.
Don’t be a wimp, she told her reflection firmly. He’s just a man—you can handle him.
She left her apartment, descended the stairs, and stepped out into the early morning. Adriano was waiting for her—leaning on his scooter, his long legs stretched out in front of him and crossed at the ankles.
“Good morning.” He grinned at her and rose to his feet. A moment later, he was standing right in front of her. Then, he stooped and kissed her on both cheeks. The lingering touch of his lips on her skin made Sabrina’s breathing grow shallow.
“Ciao,” she replied, feeling like a startled deer in the headlights.
“Here.” Adriano handed her a helmet. “I want to take you somewhere special for breakfast.”
“Where?”
His smile turned secretive. “Wait and see.”
They drove a few minutes away, and pulled up in front of a coffee bar called Sant’ Eustachio. The café had a few chairs and tables out front where patrons enjoyed the relative cool of the early morning before Rome’s heat descended. Inside, it was heaving.
Adriano waded into the fray and Sabrina followed, making sure she kept close to him. They wove their way through men and women eating pastries and sipping frothy cappuccini, and arrived at the cashier, where Adriano ordered their breakfast.
“It’s crazy in here,” he admitted, nearly having to shout over the noise, “but the coffee and cornetti are worth it.”
A few minutes later, as she bit into a flaky cornetto filled with raspberry jam, Sabrina had to agree with him. Elbow to elbow, they stood at the bar and enjoyed their breakfast while people surged in and out of the café like waves breaking on a rocky shore.
Sabrina spooned the last mouthful of cocoa-dusted foam from her cappuccino and sighed in contentment. “That was wonderful.”
He smiled back at her, his dark eyes warm. “I thought you’d enjoy it—everyone should have breakfast at Sant’ Eustachio at least once in their life.”
Sabrina laughed, and the tension she’d felt earlier dissipated. Despite herself, she knew she was going to have fun today.
After breakfast, Adriano drove her out of the center, across the river and up a long, wide avenue lined by trees, to the west. Half-way up the hill, he parked the bike and led her into the largest market Sabrina had ever visited. Rome’s Porta Portese was a souk-like tangle of streets packed with stalls selling everything from second-hand clothing, leatherwear, and bags to bric-a-brac and mountains of dog-eared books.
It seemed as if the crowds at Sant' Eustachio had followed them; despite that it was still early, there was hardly room to move. Adriano wordlessly linked his arm through Sabrina’s and guided her through the market.
“Watch your bag,” he murmured, leaning in close. Sabrina caught a whiff of his cologne, subtle but spiced, and her stomach fluttered. “The market’s well-known for its pick-pockets.”
No sooner had he spoken when Sabrina spied two diminutive gypsy women, dressed in flowing skirts and head-scarves. She watched them, noticing the way they moved, dipping in and out of the crowd. Sabrina pulled her bag around so it lay against her front and resolved to keep an eye on it.
Sabrina and Adriano spent hours at Porta Portese Market, lost amongst the sea of humanity and the plethora of items to browse and buy. Sabrina bought some colorful beads and a gauzy scarf. Adriano was surprisingly good company, relaxed and interested. Unlike most men she’d known, he didn’t grow impatient with her female need to linger and browse. He was happy to help her choose which necklace to buy or to decide on the color of the scarf.
“The green one matches your eyes,” he told her with a smile.
Sabrina bought it, needing no further convincing.
The coolness of the early morning quickly disappeared as the heat descended. The sun was high in the sky when they finally finished visiting the market. They were making their way back to Adriano’s Vespa when his cell phone started ringing.
He answered it. “Pronto … ciao Vale. Yes, we’re still at the market. We’re just about done here. When do you want us? Great … see you then.”
Adriano finished the call and turned to Sabrina. She watched him quizzically,
“That was my sister,” he told her. “She’s preparing one of her huge Sunday lunches and wants to know if you’d like to join us. Would you?”
She raised an eyebrow. “It sounded like it’s already decided,” she teased.
He smiled back, his gaze fusing with hers. “It is.”
Adriano took her back across the river, skirted the center, and headed south. Sabrina had taken the same direction when she had followed him a couple of weeks earlier.
It was a glorious day. Rome sparkled under a cobalt sky, and the air felt like warm silk on Sabrina’s face. It was good to be alive. Sabrina relaxed against the hard column of Adriano’s back.
A short time later, it came as a shock when he pulled up outside the very building she’d photographed him at.
Confused, Sabrina climbed off the scooter and removed her helmet. “Your sister lives here?”
Adriano nodded. “So does my son.”
She followed him inside, and they took the rickety old elevator up to the fifth floor. The elevator was cramped, and Sabrina found herself standing very close to Adriano. She glanced up to discover he was watching her, a half-smile curving his mouth.
“You seem nervous,” he observed.
That’s the understatement of the year. After her shock downstairs, Sabrina’s stomach was tying itself in knots.
She swallowed and forced a smile. “I always am before meeting new people.”
His smile widened. “Don’t tell me you’re really shy?”
Sabrina gave a soft laugh. “Absolutely, I just hide it well.”
A dark-haired woman dressed in a white linen dress waited for them on the landing. She was the same tall and slender beauty that Sabrina had spied Adriano with on two occasions.
His sister.
Sabrina felt such a fool. She had jumped to conclusions, wanting to see the worst in this man, and had let her imagination run riot. Worse still, she had sent Helen Bellini photographs of a woman she would surely recognize as her ex-husband’s sister.
That’s it … I’m fired.
The woman beamed warmly and opened the iron door to hasten their exit from the elevator. “Adriano!”
“Ciao, Valentina,” he greeted her, before motioning to his companion. “This is Sabrina.”
Valentina Bellini kissed Sabrina warmly on each cheek and ushered them both across the landing. “Welcome, Sabrina. I’ve been dying to meet you.”
The aroma of frying garlic and seafood welcomed them from the apartment beyond.
“Papà!” A small boy with a mop of dark hair raced out onto the landing and collided with Adriano’s legs. Adriano laughed and lifted the boy into his arms for a hug.
“Careful there—you nearly knocked me over.” Adriano glanced over at Sabrina, his eyes shining. “Sabrina, meet my son, Luca.”
Chapter Fifteen
They sat on a terrace, sheltered from the sun by a large awning, and ate dishes of spaghetti w
ith clams washed down with chilled white wine, followed by baked sea bass and salad.
Valentina Bellini was a fantastic cook—clearly Adriano’s culinary abilities were a family trait—and when Sabrina tasted the pannacotta with wild strawberries served for dessert, she felt as if she’d died and gone to heaven. Perfectly set and creamy without being overly heavy.
Sabrina took her first spoonful and gasped. “Wow!”
Valentina laughed and nudged the attractive older woman who sat next to her. “I can’t take the credit—it’s mamma’s recipe.”
Mariana Bellini smiled. “I haven’t made one of these in years—you were always better at desserts.”
Like her daughter, Mariana was an elegant woman. She was dressed in a shift dress that left her toned arms bare and had a warm, engaging manner that had made Sabrina instantly like her.
Next to Sabrina, Adriano served his son some more wild strawberries. The little boy had a sprite-like quality; he was full of energy, with a liquid-brown gaze that missed nothing. Sabrina often found his gaze upon her, and she smiled at his curiosity.
“You’re pretty,” he blurted out as he spooned some fruit into his mouth.
Sabrina nearly choked on her pannacotta, although everyone else around the table laughed.
“A charmer already, like his papà,” Mariana observed.
“Italian men are all charmers,” Valentina replied with an arch look. “It’s genetic.”
Sabrina caught the edge to Valentina’s voice and wondered at the woman’s history. She was a stunning woman but appeared to be on her own. Sabrina would have expected her to have a line of panting men, queued outside her door.
“But she is pretty,” Luca insisted. “Isn’t she, papà?”
“Yes.” Adriano replied gravely. “She is, Luca—very pretty.”
Sabrina felt her face heat up, although it was difficult not to smile. Luca’s face was a picture of innocence, while his father’s was far less so.