Femme Fatale Loved (Pericolo #3) by Kirsty-Anne Still

in California, begging Alessa to trust her heart – a thing I know she won’t be able to do.
    “Call me when you get there,” he commands lightly. “And keep your phone near. I’ll be calling you regularly.”
    “What are you up to?” I ask, cocking a brow knowing the look he has on his face.
    “You’ll have to go and find out,” he tells me, giving nothing away. He leans down, readying to whisper to me. “See you soon, Miss. Abbiati. I’ll miss our morning sex session.”
    “You and your hand will be inseparable by the time I’m home.”
    He chuckles. “Believe me, nothing feels better around my cock than you.”
    As my number gets called again, I decide to break our connection, start the farewell, and prepare myself for the separation anxiety that’ll take over the moment I’m on the plane.
    “Guess I had better go,” I mutter, uncertain about leaving him.
    He grabs my hand as I turn to leave, but he pulls me back. The kiss he issues is fierce – one for the road, one to last the journey. His hand comes up to cradle the back of my head, allowing him to deepen the kiss. As he pulls away, I feel spent and, somehow, neglected by the sudden end to the kiss.
    “Remember that,” he tells me, before grinning wildly at me. He knows exactly what he’s done. “Now go before I stop you.”
    “Okay,” I whisper, smiling coyly.
    I take my turn to walk away from Zane, knowing this will be the longest time of my life. But it’ll also be one of my biggest fights. It’s time to give back what has long since been overdue – Enzo’s chance of a real life.

CHAPTER SEVEN
     
    Five hours later, I feel liberated to stretch my legs.
    I look at the sign welcoming me to Santa Barbara, and I’m amazed at how at ease I am. Stepping out of the airport at the end of my journey feels like I’m stepping out into a totally different world. The humidity feels different, the hustle and bustle is different, and the air feels clearer. I fill my lungs with California air and enjoy basking in this new part of America.
    I head toward the line of cabs and prepare myself to get to my hotel in one piece so I can freshen up and begin stage one – find Alessandra . I join the queue and watch as one by one they get into the waiting cabs. When it gets to my turn, I’m more than welcoming to the driver as he opens his door to come and help.
    “Where to, lady?” I’m asked as my cab driver runs around to help with my case.
    “Hotel Milo, please,” I tell him, watching him with my suitcase. “It’s on West Carbillo Boulevard.”
    “Ah, seafront hotel,” he muses, offering a smile as he shuts the trunk of his cab. “Very nice for couples but not when you’re alone.”
    “Sadly, my boyfriend couldn’t make it to this. It’s more of a girl’s vacation.” I don’t offer him any more information; just proceed to get into the back of the cab.
    “Have you been to Santa Barbara before?” he asks as he gets in, restarts the meter, and puts his signal on to join traffic.
    “Nope,” I reply. “Never really traveled much outside of Manhattan and New York.”
    “Thought I recognized that accent,” he notes, keeping his attention on the road. “You must travel, though, surely?”
    “Yeah,” I mutter, feeling a growing discomfort forming. “I’ve been to Italy, but that’s about it.”
    “Anywhere in particular,” he asks.
    I know he’s making small talk, and I don’t want to come across rude, but I’ve never been in this situation where people make small talk. People always knew me, or at the bar, I was just the girl who served their drinks. I had a sense of invisibility. It was nice to fade into the background for a while.
    “Only Amalfi Coast because my family lives there, but it’s been a long time since I’ve been.” I look up to find him looking at me in the middle mirror. “I’m a bit estranged from my family nowadays.”
    I see he understands and promptly changes the direction of our conversation. He