I said instead.
“Are you sure? I thought you’d be bored by now. Have you started moving around the furniture yet?” I laughed. Moving furniture was something I did to break the monotony of long periods of time living out of hotels. I glanced at the furniture in the living room that I had, in fact, moved twice now.
“I haven’t touched the furniture,” I lied.
“Fucking liar,” he laughed. “Okay, I’ll change your flight and email you the new details.” Harry paused for a moment, and I could tell whatever he had to say next wasn’t coming easily. “Everything okay?” He finally settled for. I knew he wasn’t asking about the villa or the weather.
“I’m doing okay, Harry,” I quietly confided.
“Great, glad we got that settled. I’ll talk to you later.” He promptly hung up. That was our Harry; a man of many words when it suited him, a man of brisk business the rest of the time.
Two days later, I stood just inside the foyer of a beautiful, exquisite hotel, situated right on the shoreline. Massive archways along the beachside teased with the promise of pristine blue waters just beyond. The marble floor beneath my feet was cool even through my sandals. It wasn’t sticky though, so why I had become rooted to the spot the moment I had stepped inside was beyond me. I was compelled to come here with a sense of urgency. I had a little over three weeks left of my vacation, not nearly enough time to build a friendship with the handsome Italian stranger, but something was tugging at me, commanding I see him again. Now that I was here, I was terrified, and apparently stuck to this spot. Two women from the front desk several feet before me had noticed my entry, and now watched me with undisguised concern and confusion. When one of them reached for a phone, her curious eyes set on me, I panicked. They probably thought I was some crazy nut job westerner, and she was calling security. Obviously unable to go forward, I turned to retreat and ran straight into the wall of a solid chest.
“Oh crap,” I whispered. “So sorry.” Before I had a chance to politely side step and escape, a large, warm hand caught my upper arm.
“Tesoro, please tell me you’ve come for me and not a room,” Peiro purred. I looked up into the stormy dark eyes of the Italian. He was stunning, dressed in an expensive grey suit, his hair brushed off his forehead.
“Yes… I mean, no.” He looked a little confused. Could you blame him? “Yes, I came to see you, but then I thought I might be interrupting you, you might have been working, which quite obviously you are.” My eyes quickly raked over his powerful body hidden behind his powerful suit. “Perhaps we can do this again another day, when you are not so busy.” I quickly suggested.
The corner of Peiro’s mouth lifted into a smile. “You would like to bump into me then try to stammer your way out of spending time with me?”
It took me a moment to realize what he meant. “No!” I said, startled. “I meant, maybe we could do something, other than bump into each other, another day.”
He was now brimming with laughter. “I believe you bumped into me, Tesoro.” I opened my mouth to argue and realized my argument was baseless, because I had bumped into him. Peiro chuckled and the wonderful sound fell over me like a warm blanket. He put his hands carefully on my shoulders and turned me around. “Welcome to my hotel,” he whispered in my ear. He tried to nudge me forward, but I had become glued to the ground, again.
“Your hotel?” The words came out like a squeak. Smooth, Violet , I internally berated myself. “You do hotels,” I whispered his words from the first time we had met. “Holy shit, you own hotels!” I squeaked again. I could feel the rise and fall of his chest at my back. He was laughing at me.
“Actually, my family does hotels. My grandfather owns a few, and my brothers and I work for him, taking care of the business. He’s eighty-two now, not a
“Are you sure? I thought you’d be bored by now. Have you started moving around the furniture yet?” I laughed. Moving furniture was something I did to break the monotony of long periods of time living out of hotels. I glanced at the furniture in the living room that I had, in fact, moved twice now.
“I haven’t touched the furniture,” I lied.
“Fucking liar,” he laughed. “Okay, I’ll change your flight and email you the new details.” Harry paused for a moment, and I could tell whatever he had to say next wasn’t coming easily. “Everything okay?” He finally settled for. I knew he wasn’t asking about the villa or the weather.
“I’m doing okay, Harry,” I quietly confided.
“Great, glad we got that settled. I’ll talk to you later.” He promptly hung up. That was our Harry; a man of many words when it suited him, a man of brisk business the rest of the time.
Two days later, I stood just inside the foyer of a beautiful, exquisite hotel, situated right on the shoreline. Massive archways along the beachside teased with the promise of pristine blue waters just beyond. The marble floor beneath my feet was cool even through my sandals. It wasn’t sticky though, so why I had become rooted to the spot the moment I had stepped inside was beyond me. I was compelled to come here with a sense of urgency. I had a little over three weeks left of my vacation, not nearly enough time to build a friendship with the handsome Italian stranger, but something was tugging at me, commanding I see him again. Now that I was here, I was terrified, and apparently stuck to this spot. Two women from the front desk several feet before me had noticed my entry, and now watched me with undisguised concern and confusion. When one of them reached for a phone, her curious eyes set on me, I panicked. They probably thought I was some crazy nut job westerner, and she was calling security. Obviously unable to go forward, I turned to retreat and ran straight into the wall of a solid chest.
“Oh crap,” I whispered. “So sorry.” Before I had a chance to politely side step and escape, a large, warm hand caught my upper arm.
“Tesoro, please tell me you’ve come for me and not a room,” Peiro purred. I looked up into the stormy dark eyes of the Italian. He was stunning, dressed in an expensive grey suit, his hair brushed off his forehead.
“Yes… I mean, no.” He looked a little confused. Could you blame him? “Yes, I came to see you, but then I thought I might be interrupting you, you might have been working, which quite obviously you are.” My eyes quickly raked over his powerful body hidden behind his powerful suit. “Perhaps we can do this again another day, when you are not so busy.” I quickly suggested.
The corner of Peiro’s mouth lifted into a smile. “You would like to bump into me then try to stammer your way out of spending time with me?”
It took me a moment to realize what he meant. “No!” I said, startled. “I meant, maybe we could do something, other than bump into each other, another day.”
He was now brimming with laughter. “I believe you bumped into me, Tesoro.” I opened my mouth to argue and realized my argument was baseless, because I had bumped into him. Peiro chuckled and the wonderful sound fell over me like a warm blanket. He put his hands carefully on my shoulders and turned me around. “Welcome to my hotel,” he whispered in my ear. He tried to nudge me forward, but I had become glued to the ground, again.
“Your hotel?” The words came out like a squeak. Smooth, Violet , I internally berated myself. “You do hotels,” I whispered his words from the first time we had met. “Holy shit, you own hotels!” I squeaked again. I could feel the rise and fall of his chest at my back. He was laughing at me.
“Actually, my family does hotels. My grandfather owns a few, and my brothers and I work for him, taking care of the business. He’s eighty-two now, not a
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