Page 55 of The Fall Affair

At the door, I pushed to my toes and kissed his cheek. “Good night, Matteo.”

“Good night, bellissima. Put da light on so I know you’re okay.”

“I will.”

My bedroom was at the front of the house, so after I turned the lamp on, I peeked out the window and watched Matteo get back into his truck. My eyes drifted to the bed and a shiver ran through me. If he could make me feel this desperate sitting in the car next to him, what might he do to me in bed?

Chapter 17

Allegra

TWO DAYS LATER, I was wrapping some items for a customer in the antique shop when Luciana stopped in.

“Ciao!”

“Ciao, Luciana. I’ll be done in a minute.”

“Figurati. Take-a your time.”

Luciana was fingering through a box of old postcards when I finished. She pulled one out and held it up. “I didn’t know you sell this kind of stuff. I would come by sooner.”

I smiled and took the postcard of a naked woman from her hand. “I remember the first time I came across erotic postcards like these. I think I was about eight. My grandmother was in the back, and when she came out, I felt like I’d stumbled onto something I shouldn’t have, so I shoved the cards down the back of my shorts. It wasn’t until a few summers later that I finally got the courage to ask about them. Apparently, there’s a big niche market for antique erotic postcards. There was an old guy who used to come in and go right to that box.” I laughed. “I thought he was such a perv.”

“I found old Playmen under my brother’s mattress once. It’s the Italiano equivalent to your Playboy. We were ten or eleven, and Matteo, he’d found my diary and read it and was poking fun because I wrote about one of his friends I had a crush on. So I went in search of his secrets. I gave it to my mother to get him in trouble, but all it did was get my father in hot water for leaving his stash lying around.”

I laughed. “That figures.”

“I leave tomorrow,” Luciana said. “I come to invite you to dinner tonight. At a ristorante I love—L’Altro Cantuccio. It’s in da village. Me, you, and my brother.”

“I’d love that. What time?”

“Nine?”

“I have to check my busy calendar,” I joked. “Oh look, it seems I’m free.”

“Fantastico. I go to visit a winery up north before, so I meet you there.”

“Oh. Okay.”

She kissed both my cheeks. “Ciao. Matteo will pick you up.”

***

Hours later, Matteo pulled into the driveway as I was finishing getting ready. I wore a red dress that hugged my curves and dipped a bit lower at the neckline than I’d normally choose for dinner with friends. But I’d be lying if I said I thought of Matteo as only a friend, or that I hadn’t had him on my mind while picking out what to wear. I spritzed on perfume and went to set the bottle down, then thought better of it and added a little more. Catching my reflection in the mirror, I was happy with the way I looked. It made answering the door and facing Matteo a whole lot easier.

“Hello.”

Matteo’s gaze swept over me, lingering long enough in certain places to make me glad I’d gone back for a second spritz. As usual, he looked insanely handsome. He’d dressed in a crisp white shirt and simple, dark, tailored trousers, shorter in length than most men in the U.S. wore. Italian men liked to be stylish and made an effort when they got dressed. Tonight, Matteo had pulled off the perfect combination of elegant and relaxed. Even the way he smiled, effortless and confident, made my heart skip a beat, and I was both grateful and disappointed that it wasn’t only the two of us having dinner.

He leaned in and kissed my cheek. “You look bellissima.”

“Thank you. You look very handsome yourself.”

Matteo offered his elbow for me to hold as he walked me to the passenger door of his truck. He waited for me to get in and shut the door behind me. On the drive over to the restaurant, I didn’t miss the subtle glances he stole over at my legs. I might’ve uncrossed and recrossed them more than once just for fun.

The restaurant Luciana had picked was cozy, with vaulted brick arches, heavy wooden beams that stretched across the ceiling, and soft lighting accentuated with real candles on the table. Matteo and the host seemed to know each other. They spoke in Italian, and I was pretty proud of myself for understanding.

“Luciana is not here yet,” he said. “They will seat us in the meantime.”