Like prey that had been caught in the sights of the hunter, all I could do was remain still and wait for his next move.
After another stretch of silence, he spoke. “Constantine.” It was a single word, but the depth of his baritone was like a song. Deeply masculine, slightly grating, a bit intimidating. If he raised his voice a few octaves, every wall of the hotel would tremble.
I swallowed, knowing I couldn’t just sit there and continue my stare. I had to break the spell he cast on me and participate. “Aurelia.”
He gave a slight nod. “Beautiful name. It suits you.”
“It does?” I asked.
“It means gilded, golden. So yes, I’d say it does.”
This drop-dead gorgeous man had just chosen me over an easy lay ... and called me golden. I’d never needed encouragement more than I did now, medicine for the disease that had nearly killed me. He hadno idea what he’d done for me, pulled me out of the mud I’d allowed myself to wallow in, and he would never know.
For the first time, not in days, but weeks and probably months, I smiled. Felt the invisible pressure of twenty tons leave my shoulders and render me free. My smile felt lighter than a cloud, so natural and so genuine, and the flush in my neck filled my cheeks with a warmth I hadn’t felt in my eternal winter.
His gaze shifted slightly, dropped down to my mouth before it returned to my eyes, like something about my smile caught his attention.
“Constantine suits you too. Named after a Roman emperor.”
He smirked slightly. “You know your history.”
“I’m Roman, so kinda comes with the territory.” I straightened my spine, perked up my tits, grabbed the glass, and took a drink from the straw. The heat of the mezcal burned my stomach instantly.
He’d left his drink behind at the other table, but the waiter wordlessly presented a new one and placed it on a coaster. He also took the bill I’d placed on the table but left my credit card behind before he walked off.
As confused as I was, I didn’t ask any questions.
“Are you staying at this hotel?”
“God no,” I said with a quick laugh. “I’d have to start an OnlyFans to afford this place.”
The smile on his mouth was instant and reached his eyes. He was so damn good looking when he wore that smolder, but when he smiled like that ... chef’s kiss. It was brief, but it was genuine before it faded back to a slight smirk. “You’d be in the presidential suite in no time.”
“Would you be one of my subscribers?” I hadn’t had confidence or courage like this in at least a year, but it came back to me like second nature, the old me finally reaching the surface and taking her first breath of air.
He smirked. “I prefer the live show.”
The tightness in my stomach was so strong, I felt an invisible hand grip and squeeze. “You’re in luck, because I think my next performance is really soon.”
The smirk was still there, a distinct playfulness in his eyes. “How soon?”
I grabbed my glass and took a drink. “In the next hour or so.” I didn’t recognize myself at all, flirting with this man who could have anyone he wanted, basically inviting him to bed when all I knew was his name. But he’d made his interest clear when he came to my table, and I wanted my interest to be just as clear. A night with him would give me the biggest ego boost I could ever receive. Would put a swagger back in my step. Would give me the strength to grab my things from the apartment and flip Enzo off on the way out. Would remind me that I wasn’t the problem—he was.
“Not gonna miss that.” He reached for his glass and took a drink. It was amber colored, with ice, so I wasn’t sure if it was whiskey and Coke or scotch on the rocks or maybe gin. But whatever it was, it was stiff.
“Are you staying here?”
He gave a slight nod.
“Presidential suite?” I teased.
The smirk that lingered on his lips finally faded away. “You’ll find out soon enough.” He was deadly serious, the intensity back in his gaze, and he pulled off something that no other man possibly could—effortlessly.
Thank god I shaved today.“What brings you to Taormina?” I changed the subject because if we kept talking about all the fucking we were going to do, I wouldn’t be able to finish my drink.
“Family.”
“So you’re from Taormina?”
