"I'm seriously asking you about food." I gesture toward the untouched menu in front of her. "Unless you'd prefer to continue discussing your resistance to my charm. I'm happy either way."
She snatches up the menu. Scans it with more intensity than it deserves.
"The seared scallops," she says finally. "With the truffle risotto."
"Excellent choice."
I signal the waiter. Order her scallops, a ribeye for myself, another bottle of the Barolo. The waiter nods and retreats.
Vittoria watches him go, then turns back to me with narrowed eyes. Still suspicious. Still waiting for the other shoe to drop.
Smart girl.
I settle back in my chair. Slip my hand casually into my jacket pocket. My fingers find the small remote I've been carrying all evening.
Vittoria reaches for her wine glass. Brings it to those perfect lips.
I push the button.
The effect is immediate. Devastating.
Her eyes roll back. The wine glass slips, nearly crashing to the table before she catches it with a white-knuckled grip. Astrangled sound escapes her throat, half gasp, half moan, as wine splashes across her chin.
She grabs the edge of the table with both hands. Knuckles bone-white. Her chest heaves. Those dark eyes, when they finally focus, are glazed with shock and something far more interesting.
Fuck.
I've seen beautiful things in my life. Sunrises over Lake Michigan. My mother's garden in full bloom. The first snowfall of winter blanketing the estate.
None of it compares to watching Vittoria Sartori process that the crystal thing she put inside herself is a remote vibrator.
And that I control it.
Her mouth works silently. Cheeks flushed. Pupils blown so wide her eyes look almost black.
"Please—" The word comes out wrecked. Desperate. "Stop."
I release the button.
The vibration ceases. Vittoria slumps forward slightly, breathing hard. Her hair has fallen across her face, hiding her expression for a brief moment.
Then she looks up.
If looks could kill, I'd be bleeding out on this floor. Her eyes promise murder. Slow, painful, creative murder involving every piece of silverware on this table.
I've never been more aroused in my life.
"You—" She can barely form words. "You absolutebastard."
"You said you weren't wearing it." I tilt my head, keeping my expression neutral despite the heat pooling low in my gut. "You lied to me, solnyshko."
"I'm going to kill you." Her voice shakes. From fury or lingering arousal, I can't tell. Possibly both. "I'm going to find the sharpest knife in this restaurant and?—"
"Keep your voice down." I nod toward Elio, who's watching us with concern from his post near the door. "Unless you want your guard to know why you're having trouble sitting still."
Vittoria's jaw clenches so hard I can hear her teeth grinding.
She dabs at the wine on her chin with a napkin. Smooths her hair back with trembling fingers. Straightens her spine with visible effort until she's the picture of composed elegance again.
