Lorenzo’s fingers skimmed over her ass, along her narrow waist, and ultimately settled on her breasts. Working his strong hands over them, he kneaded and rubbed like a master baker taking care to be gentle yet firm with his bread dough. Meanwhile Sophie’s hands trailed down Lorenzo’s back, pressing against his perfectly shaped ass so she could feel his hard length against her even more clearly. Wow, that man was packing one hell of banana.
At last, Lorenzo broke the kiss as Sophie let out a moan. “You see, cara, I can handle you with great ease. But this is where it must end, because I want to be abundantly clear about this: I’m not happy that you and your freak show have invaded my family’s personal space, and I’m not going to pretend I am. I will put on a smile and fake it in front of my mother because she’s my mother. Please, don’t expect me to bend over backward to make this easy for you, though, because I won’t.”
Stunned at his duplicity, Sophie froze for a second before doing the only thing she could think to do under the circumstances. Raising her hand, she slapped him hard across that smug face he was so proud of. She wanted to hit him where it hurt, and clearly that was his Achilles heel.
Dammit, she could kick herself for being such a rube, falling for the oldest trick in the book. Leave it to Lorenzo to use his dick to try to mess with her head. Though that sounded weird if taken literally. Which made her half laugh, trying to imagine him poking at her head with that well-endowed piece of equipment he was packing. Ugh. Like it or not she had to admit she was, for some bizarre reason, profoundly sexually attracted to him. Thank God he had the personality of a battering ram because no way in hell was she ever going to capitulate to any more advances or sneak attacks he might have planned for her. She was a strong woman and knew better than to yield to the likes of Lorenzo Romeo. Sure he had a hot face and a hard cock—he also obviously had an even harder heart, and she knew what cold-hearted men were like, thanks to a lifetime of watching her father disrespect her mother time and again, only to have her ultimately relinquish herself to him.
She turned to retreat to her room to lick her wounded ego, yet as she turned the knob on the door, she glanced over her shoulder at him as he still stared at her, rubbing his cheek against the sting.
“Can I ask you something personal?”
He gave her a “no duh” look. As if they’d not already been a bit personal with one another.
“I’m wondering how you would say doggy style in Italian.”
He frowned. “After all of this, you want to know that?”
She shrugged. “Just curious, I guess.”
“Alla pecorina. Pecorina means ‘sheep.’”
“Wasn’t that pecorino cheese we ate after dinner tonight? Now I’ll never have that cheese without thinking of sheep having sex.”
“Well , perhaps you should think of us having sex, alla pecorina, instead? Far more interesting.” He winked at her and she glared at him before she slipped inside her room, slamming the door tight behind her and locking it to ensure no surprise attacks from him in the middle of the night. She was done dealing with Lorenzo Romeo’s friendly—more like hostile—overtures.
Chapter Thirteen
The crew arrived and spent much of the day getting acquainted with the palazzo and meeting with anyone who could assist them. They set up a workspace in a guest house on the property, where they could have privacy to review the raw footage at the end of each day and make sure the edits would properly sync together.
Late in the afternoon, Justin sat at a custom-tiled table on the terrace, jotting down notes and enjoying aperitivo with a glass of reserve Chianti, when Sophie walked in.
“So far, so good, boss. Made even better by this amazing wine.” He held up the glass of wine Fabiana had offered him.
“I think this is going to be fabulous,” she said, crossing her arms and nibbling on her thumbnail.
“What do you think about Mr. Surly?” he said. “Hot but untouchable, literally and figuratively.”
Sophie rolled her eyes and tapped her front tooth with her fingernail. “Like it or not, that one—I think he’s going to be perfect. Our audience will eat him up like sweet cream on a silver spoon. Even if I’d rather spit him out like a sip of turned wine.”
She didn’t dare mention that an itty, bitty part of her would likely be front and center in line, ready to lap him right up. After all, she’d seen that thing of his in the light of day, and she’d bet money he could work wonders with it. In a way, it was sort of sad that she’d miss out on it. But that would just have to be, for all eternity. No way would she ever do that to herself.
“I’ll take your word for it, but the way he goes around with that eviscerating scowl on his face, he’s kind of a little bitch boy.”
Sophie laughed. “I’m sure he’d love to hear that impression of him.”
“Well, I know, but we’re aiming to find some usable man parts while we’re here. After all, it’s Italy. Land of amore and all that stuff. I don’t even care about the love part—I’m totally down with just lust.”
“And you don’t lust after him, even if he is being somewhat unpleasant?”
“Two strikes against him: he’s not gay and he’s a prick. Next!”
Sophie laughed. “Maybe we can get Tomasso to tap into the local talent and find someone for you.”
“And while he’s at it for you, too.”
Sophie waved her arm. “I’m not kidding—I don’t have time for that anyhow. I’ve got a career to advance. Besides, to hell with annoying men.”
“I’ll be sure to remind you of that next time you’re moaning that you need a guy,” Justin said. “Ah, but look who’s here! The lovebirds.”
He moved in between Gisele and Tomasso, draping an arm over each of their shoulders. “So what say we put our heads together and find someone who could provide a little companionship for your friends Justin and Sophie. All work and no play make us dull producers.”
“Or something like that,” Sophie said. “Thanks, but I don’t need any matchmaking assistance.”
“You’re in Italia. Of course you need some amore,” Tomasso said.
“I’m here for work, folks. Besides, not a good idea to mix business with pleasure. If I’m desperate, I can always find my friend Bob.”
Justin waved his hand at her. “Are you kidding me? You’re going to tell me you’d be satisfied with a battery-operated toy over the real McCoy?”
“Hey, that rhymes!” Gisele reached for Tomasso’s hand. “And yes, sometimes a girl goes through dry spells and has to resort to a little double-A battery-assisted romance.” She and Sophie fist-bumped.
“Mi dispiace. So sorry, but no way does that compare to the real thing.” Tomasso furrowed his brow.
“What real thing?” Lorenzo said as he walked into the room, taking a swig from a bottle of water.
Sophie blanched and glanced away as if by looking in a different direction, he wouldn’t see her.
“The women were trying to convince me and Justin that they’re as happy with a vibrator as with a man.”
Lorenzo choked on his water.
“Whoa, mio fratello.” Tomasso gave his back a few firm whacks in an attempt to stop the choking. “Be careful.”
Lorenzo held up his hands as if in surrender. “I’m all right, Tomasso. I guess that took me off-guard, the notion that any woman would prefer some extremely loud, buzzing, plastic thing to a warm, hard, pulsating man.” He fixed his gaze on Sophie.
She gave him a cold stare. “Yeah well, when that thing in your pants can come close to purring like a jet engine, give me a ring. Until then...” She flared her nostrils as she spoke.
Gisele stuck her finger in the air and made a hissing sound as if sizzling on a stove. “For the win, Soph.”
The women laughed.
Justin held his hands up in a T, like a referee indicating a time-out. “Sorry, ladies. I have to go with the men here. Ain’t nothing like a hot man on a cold night.”
He, Sophie, a
nd Gisele cracked up.
“Which reminds me, I know you fellas don’t bat for the home team, but I was thinking you possibly know a guy nearby who might. I’d be much obliged if you could find someone.”
Tomasso looked at Lorenzo. “You thinking who I’m thinking of?”
Lorenzo nodded. “Gareth. I could totally see it.”
“Gareth?” Justin said, arching his brow. “Sounds very British, like he would be a palace insider or something. They’re always the gay ones.”
“Close,” Tomasso said. “He was a palace insider with our cousins in Monaforte. Though now he’s running a decorating business in Monaforte. Not that I look at these things, but I gotta tell you, he’s pretty hot.”
“Do tell. I need more info: hairs, eyes, build. Give me something to dream about.”
“Hmmm, I don’t know what you’d call the hair color.” Tomasso paused, thinking. “A cross between blond and brown. Maybe sort of butterscotch. Which might make you think I’m a decorator, referring to a hair color as butterscotch. Disregard that. I think he has brown eyes. And he works out a ton so, yeah, I’m sure you’ll not mind him. As far as men go, he’s pretty easy on the eyes.”
“As easy as this one here?” Justin pointed to Lorenzo, who cringed.
“Please, Justin, no more talking up the talent. He gets squeamish with any references to his looks. Or maybe it bloats his already generous ego.” Sophie gave Justin an exaggerated wink.
“Apologies. Don’t want to typecast you. So if you two could maybe figure out a way for me to meet him?”
“How would you feel about a blind date?”
“Honey, it beats another night on Grinder. I’d be on that like white on rice.”
“I’ll reach out to my cousins and see if we can get him down here on the train,” Tomasso said. “We can all go to dinner in Florence. Sound good?”
“Sounds divine,” Justin said. “Now let’s try to help ugly up your brother so he isn’t too paranoid—or is it vain—about his looks.” He poked at Lorenzo’s hair and tried to rub a little dirt on his face.
“Dinner in Florence it is. With a little luck, Justin can go with Gareth, Gisele’s my date, and Sophie, you can bring your vibrator. I’m sure it will love the tiramisu where we’re going.”
They all laughed at her and she took it in stride.
“Seriously, all kidding aside, I propose that my ugly brother, Lorenzo, the most beastly of the Romeo brothers, be a gentleman and kindly escort Sophie for our group dinner. Lorenzo?”
Lorenzo caught Tomasso’s eyes and glared hard, the muscles in his jaw visibly ticking. “Fine. But it can’t be a late night. I’ve got things to do the next morning.”
“Brava! Let’s call up our forest friends and line up the pumpkin carriage and footmen mice. Our little Cinderella is going on a date with her very own Prince Charming.”
Sophie buried her face in her hands, worried about what she’d been railroaded into. “Please, Justin. Get it straight. I’ll need my best asbestos dress to keep from being burned because you’re all forcing me out for the night with the Prince of Darkness. I hear it gets awfully warm the closer you get to hell.”
Chapter Fourteen
Tomasso volunteered to drive everyone in his SUV, which meant Gisele sat up front and Sophie drew the short straw and had to sit wedged between Lorenzo and Justin since they were meeting Gareth at the restaurant.
“This brings to mind family road trips with me stuffed in the middle between my two brothers when I was a kid,” she grumbled.
“You think this is bad, try doing that with seven kids like we did when we were young,” Tomasso said. “Moving our family around—which didn’t happen often, mind you—was like a logistical nightmare. At least we don’t have too far to go.”
Although the distance they did have to drive included windy mountain roads, and with each switchback, Sophie found herself fighting gravity to avoid ending up tipping sideways into Lorenzo’s lap. He was busy on his phone flirting on Facebook, or maybe opening up his Tinder app in anticipation of its usage upon arrival in Florence, and wouldn’t even engage in conversation with her, which was fine. Except Tomasso swerved to avoid smacking into a wild boar scrambling across the road and Sophie found herself reaching for purchase, which ended up being on Lorenzo’s crotch. At least that made him look up from his phone, even though Sophie pulled her hand away as quickly as she would have had she put it to the flame of a cooktop.
“Please, cara,” he said with one of those smirks that made her want to box his ear. She couldn’t believe his irksomeness made her think of the archaic phrase as though she were a schoolmarm in Little House on the Prairie. Box his ear. Oy. She was losing her New York edge and it had only been a few days. “No need to move away so suddenly. You can keep your hand there if you want.”
Her lip snarled in disgust and she tugged her violet pashmina wrap a little tighter to her chest, feeling the need to close herself off physically from the man.
“So, Justin, you ready to meet your mystery date?” She tried to change the subject.
“Girl, I’m just happy to get out of the house for a while. It’s a gorgeous place but sometimes you need to get away.”
She rolled her eyes. “Tell me about it.” Only problem was her getting away included still being with the thing she needed to get away from.
For the past few days, the crew had been shooting establishing shots around the palazzo, Romeo headquarters, and throughout the vineyard. They’d also brought in a drone to do some overhead shots, which so far looked spectacular. Meanwhile Sophie had spent much of the past couple of days rewriting the script and meeting individually with each of the Romeos who would appear in the program. The only one she’d avoided meeting with was Lorenzo. Of course he was going to be the main interview subject. Even though it had been established while planning the show, she was almost afraid to remind him he’d be the face of the Romeos.
She decided she’d line up as much as she could before even attempting to deal with him. She could only imagine what it would be like to get him to prep with the hair and makeup people. He would freak out the minute someone tried to put some bronzer or eyebrow gel on him. Though the makeup artists were both attractive women, and more than likely he’d be hitting them up for a fling by the time they dragged a brush through his hair or dabbed foundation on his skin. Not that she cared; he could hook up with whoever he wanted to. She simply needed to get this show filmed and wrapped so that her career wasn’t balancing on the precipice. She had to prove to Danny that she could carry her own show and do it spectacularly well.
Maybe after all this was over she and Lorenzo could laugh about it. But probably not. He’d more than likely run her over with that miserable motorcycle of his.
“Gareth is the shit,” Tomasso said as he drove them across a bridge entering the city. “I think you two are going to hit it off, amico mio. I must admit I’m pretty good at picking a good pairing if I do say so.” He grinned at Gisele.
Lorenzo glared at him. “Don’t even get any ideas, Tomasso.”
Tomasso smiled and put a pointer finger in his cheek, feigning innocence. “Why Lorenzo, whatever ideas would I get? After all, I’m well aware of your bachelor status. Far be it from me to be up in your business.”
“You know precisely what I’m talking about,” Lorenzo said as he instructed his brother to avoid some road construction by turning a few blocks sooner than intended. It helped to be a Romeo in Florence as they were able to get waivers to drive and park pretty much wherever they wanted in the city, despite many restrictions for both. He found a space less than a block from the restaurant, Il Lupo Affamato, The Hungry Wolf.
Exiting the SUV was going to be a challenge for Sophie—she didn’t want to have that awkward moment with her dress flying up and her barely there thong exposed for the locals—not to mention Lorenzo—to see as she tried to dismount from the oversized vehicle. She shifted to slide out on Justin’s side because Justin had seen it before
and she didn’t care if he did, but the door had already been closed behind her. The safety lock meant she couldn’t open it.
She frowned and shifted toward the door from which Lorenzo exited, only to see the grump standing there drumming his fingers on the door frame, looking as if he was waiting for the doctor to hurry up and finish the colonoscopy. What a jerk. Well, fine. If he was bored, she’d give him a show. She pulled off her pashmina, wrapped it around her purse, and thrust it into Lorenzo’s hands so she’d be free to grab the handle above the door frame. Carefully she attempted to shift her way out of the car. Why was it much easier sliding in than exiting?
Lorenzo stood in front of the door frame, his eyes growing wider as she managed to make her way to the edge of the car, her arm clasping the handle above her, the other outstretched behind her. She worried her boobs might spill right out of the sexy little dress she’d worn and laughed to herself. It would serve Lorenzo right. Look don’t touch, sucker.
She managed to climb out of the vehicle with a hint of dignity left and grabbed her shawl and purse from Lorenzo as she straightened her dress, adjusted her breasts, and joined the others on the sidewalk.
~*~
Holy shit. Lorenzo could barely keep his tongue from lolling out of his mouth upon seeing what Sophie had been hiding beneath that shawl of hers. She wore a gray dress made up of some sort of stretchy fabric that plunged deep to her cleavage in such a way that the bottom left a good four-inch gap between each breast. The stretchy gray fabric acted almost like a hammock for each tit. Mamma mia.
She had a strand of pearls draped twice; the longer strand dipped well into that gap between her breasts, its ready access to them almost taunting him. Meanwhile, her hair up in a messy bun made her neck go on forever, like the road to the Promised Land, only he wasn’t allowed to enter it. More like the Road to Perdition, but damn, it would almost be worth being doomed there forever. Almost.
Silver Spoon Romeo Page 6