His brow lifts, amused. “Pissed off suits you.” He sips his own drink. “English, sì? On holiday?”
I stare at my empty glass.Holiday.The word feels ridiculous. I haven’t relaxed once, I haven’t explored, let alone breathed properly.“Business,” I mutter.
“A woman doing business,” he says, like it’s a novelty. “With men like Toni Baxter?”
I glance sideways at him. “Is there something I should know?”
He smirks, draining his glass. “If I say certain things out loud, I might not live long enough to enjoy the view,” he murmurs, winking.
My smile fades. “What exactly are you saying?”
His gaze shifts past me. I turn slightly and see Toni watching from across the bar. Calm. Assessing. He flicks his head once. The man beside me stands immediately.
“It was lovely to meet you,” he says, his smile tight now, before walking away without another word.
My skin prickles. I slide off the stool and head straight for Toni. He doesn’t look away as I approach, his smile broadening when I stop inches from him. He taps the empty chair beside him, and I sit.
“What was that?” I ask.
“Be more specific.”
“One minute a handsome stranger is buying me drinks,” I say sharply, “and the next you give him a silentfuck offsignal and he disappears.”
Toni chuckles, leaning back as if completely at ease. “What do you think of Italy so far?”
“I haven’t seen much of it.”
He presses a hand to his chest, mock wounded. “Then that is a tragedy.” He stands and offers me his arm. “You should come with me. I’ll show you the beach.”
I hesitate, scanning the bar. No Warren. No Anthony.
Against my better judgement, I stand and hook my arm through his.
The steps down to the sand feel endless, winding through stone and shadows until the path opens onto a small, private beach. The sky is streaked with gold and violet as the sun sinks toward the horizon.
I gasp softly. “Wow.”
“Picture perfect,” he says. “No?”
“It’s stunning.”
“I hope you didn’t think I was rude back there,” he murmurs as I slip my heels off and sink my toes into the sand.
I close my eyes and breathe in the sea air. “A little.”
He laughs. “I like your honesty.”
I glance back at him. “I could use some honesty myself.”
He waits a beat, watching me carefully. Then says, “You’re sleeping with my nephew.”
I scowl. “That’s rude. And none of your business.”
“He mentioned it,” Toni says lightly. “Don’t be embarrassed. In my world, many men sleep with the help.”
Anger flares sharp and fast. “You sound exactly like your brother,” I snap. “Rude and arrogant.”
He laughs again. “But honest, sì?”
