Page 40 of The Wrong Move

I laugh. “I was looking blindly at it while I was deep in thought.”

“The notion of you thinking about me is pleasing. However, if there is something you want to know, I’d rather you ask than come to an assumption where I can’t defend myself.”

“There’s nothing to defend.”

“Not entirely true if you’re comparing the old me to the now.”

“We’ve both changed. I’m not the same girl from high school.”

He reaches out and cups my face. I lean into his touch and close my eyes momentarily.

“You’re beautiful, Gigi. Inside and out. While I adore this womanly version of you…” His eyes lower to my breasts, and damn my nipples for reacting to his attention. “I’m also attracted to the girl I knew in school. I simply like you for you, no matter how you change. While there’s physical attraction, we also have a connection I’ve never felt with anyone else.Youunderstand me.”

There is no denying I crave attention from Byron. Is it a deep-rooted craving from wanting him to want me, or is it more?“Do we have the same connection now as we did then? That is what I was pondering. I guess time will tell.”

“How much time do we have?”

The big question.

“I like how we can discuss things openly, ask questions, and not be afraid of answers that might hurt us.”

His brows crease with concern. “Is this your way of saying there is an expiration date?”

My cell buzzes before I answer Byron. I check the caller. It’s Isabella. “I have to take this.” I turn to my painting to focus on what she is calling about. “Hi, Isabella. Did you get my message?”

“I did, mystellina, and I love the new piece. I can’t wait to see all the color.” I smile while staring at my art. Isabella has called me herlittle starsince I arrived in Italy.

“I’ll start on it this afternoon and send a picture when it’s complete.”

“When do you expect to finish it?”

While I’m not painting as often as I would if I were living in Italy and not distracted by anything in Isabella’s studio, I’m not prepared to leave home just yet. “In a few days.”

Byron stands and knocks the leg of the easel. “Shit.” He stops it from falling.

“Who is with you? Is it a man you’re not telling me about?” Isabella probes.

I stare at Byron, and his eyes are fixed on mine. “Maybe.” He fails to mask his curiosity. “I should go. I’ll message you when it’s done.”

“Giana, we need to discuss your return. When you complete the five pieces, I need you here for the next stage.”

“Of course.” The last time we were at the stage before printing my designs on fabric, the lead-up time was about a month. For the celebrations and the fashion show, I can alwayscome home in between unless Isabella demands otherwise. “Enjoy your night, Isabella. I’ll message you soon.”

“Paolo and I are opening another bottle of vino. The night is young. Ciao, mystellina.”

I laugh before ending the call.

Byron’s eyes do not leave me. “Isabella owns Leto Designs,” I tell him to ease his curiosity. I do not tell him how I dated her nephew, Dante, for over a year and that when he hurt me, I decided to come home. “Isabella oversees my work for the fabric print of the new fashion line. Each piece is reproduced on a variety of styles… dresses, pants, formal wear. She’s the reason I’m invited to fashion shows around the world.” I wait for him to catch up. “You saw her at the fashion parade.”

He grins and looks somewhat bashful. “I didn’t notice. I only had eyes for you.”

Our gazes lock, and something passes between us.

“You’re a big deal,” he says in a husky voice that envelops me in his warmth. “I’m proud of you.”

“I appreciate your kind words, but I’m really not. Unlike you, there is no need for me to escape the publicity of being famous. My life remains pretty much the same.”

Bowing his head, he waits a few seconds before he meets my gaze again. “I do my best to maintain a private life, which meant mainly staying in. I’m boring compared to the life you experienced in Italy.”

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