The woman had forsaken me.
She’d poisoned me with obsessing over her sacred femininity – the perfect temple of her human body that could take away the life of any man by just snapping her fingers. And then she abandoned me. Left me all alone to torture myself thinking about her.
I watched Francesca walk toward me, slow and sensual, her witchy eyes fixed on me the entire time. I almost felt my jaw unhinge. Only for her to walk right past me, the brush of air a ghost touch on my skin. I twisted my head, following her still and watching like a dumbass as her hips swayed from side to side.
I ran my tongue over my teeth.
She got in the pool, on the far end, and joined her girlfriends. I narrowed my eyes at the way her platinum hair turned golden in the water. Her ‘fuck-me’ eyes met mine across the water, daring me to come over like I’d done all week and chase her ass around some more.
I grinded my molars together, reminding myself I was a thirty-four-year-old grown man, who’d never been down bad for a woman before in his life.
As if she could read my mind, the heart-throbbingDonnacame half out of the water, dripping wet like a siren… Brought her hands up to her breasts. And squeezed the water out of her illegally tiny bikini.
My blood boiled hotter.
I gave in. Raised my brow.
The smallest smirk tugged at the corner of her mouth.
I kept my hands crossed over my lap, hiding the hard-on in my swimming trunks.
Fuck,I was whipped.
The rest of the week passed by no differently.
After skipping out on the last-day waterfall hike, I came down at breakfast from my room to a pleasant surprise. Francesca had also skipped out on it, though I doubted she would’ve if she knew I’s stayed behind too. Because that meant she was alone with me. And as much as she gave into this little game we had, I knew she was terrified of being alone with me. Because then, she couldn’t hide how she really felt about me.
When we were alone, she was different.
Not softer.
But stronger in her leaning back. More courageous in letting me take the reins. She took chances. Made her own rules.
Francesca sat at one of the small tables near the edge of the terrace, alone, her long legs crossed, the soft Hawaiian breeze playing with a few strands of her platinum hair. The ocean stretched out behind her, the early sunlight glittering off the water like scattered diamonds. She hadn’t noticed me yet, too busy scanning the breakfast menu with that sexy, little furrow between her brows.
I walked straight toward her, not bothering to hide my smile.
“Morning, princesa,” I greeted as I pulled out the chair across from hers. She opened her mouth – probably to tell me to go away – but I sat down before she could get the words out.
She sighed, lowering the menu just enough for her glare to peek over it. “Matteo. Don’t you have… Literally anywhere else to be?”
“Nope,” I said, leaning back in my chair, enjoying the way the sunlight caught the gold cross around my neck. “This is the best seat in the house.”
She rolled her eyes in that sharp little way of hers, but the corner of her mouth almost, almost twitched.
The waiter approached just then, cheerful and bright. Before Francesca could speak, I looked up and said, “Pancakes. Strawberries, extra chocolate, extra whipped cream.”
She turned her head slowly, narrowing her eyes at me.
I grinned. “And for the lady?”
The waiter looked to her expectantly.
She huffed. “French fries. A pomegranate mojito. And a fruit salad.”
“Breakfast of champions,” I teased.
“Breakfast of people who were trying to eat alone.” She handed the menu back without looking at me, and I did the same except I kept mine exactly on her.
