Page 12 of His Two Hidden Masks

I lifted the rope and pulled one of the cafe tables out of the cluster, dragging it across the cobblestones. The cold metal bit through the leather of my gloves, but adrenaline warmed my body. What was I doing? I took a seat on one of the padded metal chairs facing the Basilica. James sat beside me.

I could not wait to tell Leo about the most gorgeous man in the world, and how I’d spontaneously walked with him and brazenly sat with him at a Cafe Florian table in the middle of the night.

“I’m not sure if you drink coffee in the daylight, but if you do, you must return here to Cafe Florian tomorrow,” I said, waving my hand at the carved wooden and glass doors behind us likea tour guide. “Established more than three hundred years ago, Cafe Florian is the oldest cafe in Venice, maybe all of Europe.”

James nodded his head appreciatively, an amused smile on his beautiful face.

“You should sit outside like this, but make sure you go inside to see the gilded painted walls. It’s beautiful. Lord Byron, Shelley, Wagner, and Proust all came here when they traveled to Venice. Can you imagine it?”

“I can,” he said, his dark eyes focused on me. “Can I assume a single cup of coffee is ridiculously expensive?”

“You assume right,” I said. “You should sit here for hours, get your money’s worth, demand buckets of ice in your water even when it’s cold outside.”

“You are officially the best Venetian tour guide I have ever met,” James said, smiling at me.

“Can I assume I am the only Venetian tour guide you have ever met?” I asked.

“Yes,” he said, grinning. “You could not pay me enough money to follow one of those yellow umbrella-toting guides, or walk around with a headset. I would rather walk around like a madman after midnight and have the good fortune to run into a beautiful woman like you.” His brown eyes lingered on mine a beat longer than necessary, and the invisible string I imagined between us grew taut.

“I’m here on family business, boring as fuck. Let’s not talk about it. Do you work in the city?”

“Family business,” I said, “boring as fuck. Let’s not talk about it.”

He laughed, and I realized we had just brokered a deeper agreement. First names only and no identifying details. Adrenaline rushed through my body. “How long are you in town?” I asked, failing to sound casual.

“Perhaps not long enough,” he said, and he licked his lips.

“You need a good tour guide,” I said, my voice husky.

“I would love one.” His voice was low, his tone playful, but focused. “Do you know anyone who is free to guide me through these confusing streets?”

“I may know someone,” I said, playing along.

“There is just one problem,” he said, pretending to wince. “I don’t like people that much. I can be a bit of an asshole and I need someone who can do tours at night.”

“At night,” I repeated, my mouth dry.

“Yes,” he said. “I have this problem. I can’t sleep.”

“I know that feeling,” I whispered. I imagined his hands running over my bare skin. When we kissed, would he push his tongue into my mouth? What would it feel like to spread my legs and feel his hard body sliding inside of me?

How many ways could this man make me come? Would he be a gentle lover, I wondered? What was happening to me? Was I really playing with the idea of having sex with a total stranger? Well, he wasn’t a stranger any longer, I told myself. His name was James.

He leaned across the table, moving closer. I smelled his cologne, a mix of woods and spice, or maybe it was just the scent of him. It was intoxicating.

In the golden light of the square, the threads of his cashmere sweater looked soft and luxurious. Everything about this man looked expensive. I wanted to know what his body looked and felt like underneath all those clothes.

His fingertips slid across the table, moving closer to my hand. Just the proximity of his body sparked a flame deep inside me.

“Perhaps tonight doesn’t have to end here,” he said.

I took a breath before speaking. “Perhaps, it doesn’t.”

He looked at me like a man who knew what he wanted. He looked at me like a man who knew his power. “You are beautiful,Bella. I wonder what your dark hair would look like unfurled across my pillow.”

My breath quickened. “I’ll bet you do.”

“I also can’t stop wondering about your gorgeous curves.”

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