“Go inside,” I bark.
He doesn’t hesitate. He spins on his heel and disappears into the villa.
“Close the damn doors,” I call after him. “And the blinds. Do not disturb us.”
Leoni’s lips curl with restrained amusement as I storm toward her, water dripping off me in slow, heavy rivulets. She doesn’t move, just watches me with that sly, knowing look.
I scoop her up without warning, her laugh breathless as she wraps her legs around my waist. I grab a fistful of her hair and crush my lips to hers, kissing her hard.
Her head falls back with a soft gasp when I trail urgent kisses down her throat, across the tops of her breasts. I tug her hair again, exposing more of her skin to my mouth.
“You wore the wrong bathing suit,” I pant against her warm skin.
She giggles, her arms loose around my neck. “I think I wore the right one.”
I slip my fingers beneath the ties at her hips and pull slowly, deliberately, until the tiny bottoms fall away completely.
“You’ll get Anthony killed,” I growl, pressing my erection at her entrance. Her breath stutters.
I thrust into her, burying myself in one smooth, claiming movement. She cries out, her forehead dropping against mine, and her nails digging lightly into my shoulders.
“I like this side of you,” she whispers, her voice trembling with pleasure.
I pin her to the warm stone wall, gripping her hips hard enough that she’ll feel it later. My mouth brushes hers as I move inside her, deep and possessive.
“One day,” I murmur against her lips, “you’ll use it against me to leave.”
Something flickers across her face. Surprise? But I don’t let her speak. I kiss her again, hard enough to chase the thought away.
I lay on the bed watching as Leoni applies minimal makeup. I’d never imagined tender moments like this could mean so much, but being here whilst she does everyday tasks, somehow feels special. Like I’m sitting in her private moment.
“I feel nervous,” she announces, pressing her lips together whilst she looks at me through the reflection.
“It’s just dinner. They’ll probably all be chatting in Italian anyway, you’ll be bored.”
“Another reason I should stay here.”
“This is business,” I say. “And Toni knows you’re my secretary. If I don’t take you, he’ll think it’s weird.”
She twists to face me. “So, tonight is strictly professional?”
I nod, hating the disappointment in her eyes. “Just for tonight.”
“I can do that,” she says, turning back to the mirror and dabbing something into her skin.
Chapter Fifteen
LEONI
The rooftop looks like something straight out of a film. A large patio area sticking out of the side of the mountain like some kind of growth.
Tables are scattered everywhere, overflowing with families and friends who talk like they haven’t seen each other in years. The air hums with laughter and clinking glasses. Small dishes of olives, oils, torn bread, and bottles of wine cover every surface. Warm light spills over stone and terracotta, and for a moment, I almost forget we’re here for business.
I stand beside Warren, taking it all in.
Anthony has stopped following us at the top of the steps, taking his place like a shadow guarding the entrance. He’s rigid, alert, scanning everything. It spikes unease down my spine.
Why the hell would Warren Baxter need a bodyguard here? In Italy. Where no one even recognises him.
