James shot Dylan a look that telegraphed something undecipherable. Was that a warning? Or just another glance of exasperation? What was it with these brothers? Clearly, they were close, but an undeniable thread of tension rippled between them.
“Isabella, I understand why you were so shocked to see me in the boardroom,” James said. “My brother has apologized to you, but I must apologize, as well. I’m sorry for the shock, and I’m also sorry your father did not approve your expansion.
“Thank you,” I said.
“Your caramels are delicious,” James said. “And it’s a good name. Bella Baci. I like it. And with that, I will leave you two to talk. Good evening, Isabella, it was lovely meeting you.” James walked away from the table without looking back.
“Well, here we are,” Dylan said.
“Yes, here we are,” I said, wondering why I was so angry. Was I angry I’d had sex? No. I was angry that the Street family was getting into my family’s business. I was angry that my father and ex-fiancé had squashed my request to invest in Bella Baci for Carnival.
Was I angry that I couldn’t stop thinking about Dylan’s naked body. Abso-fucking-lutely Yes. There I was again, right back between those sheets. His eyes dark with desire, locked on mine.
My legs spread, my pussy glistening. I wanted him to take me right then, my traitorous body grew wetter by the moment.
“I should have told me my real name,” Dylan said. He was taking a moment to go down memory lane himself. “You were, you are, a breath of fresh air. And when I realized what I’d done this morning with my school boy antics, it was too late to fix it.”
“I see,” I said. He was working a lot of compliments into this apology, and I hated to admit it, they were working, every single one of them.
“But what did it matter?” I asked. “We agreed to a one-night stand. You left before I woke. First names only, remember?”
“I know,” Dylan said, taking a slow sip of his whiskey. He ran his tongue over his top lip and I swear I could feel him between my legs. “I remember the rules, and I remember watching you sleep and thinking that one night was not enough. I wanted more”
My fingers wrapped around the stem of my champagne glass. I couldn’t move. More. He wanted more.
“I see,” I said again, betraying nothing.
“Can you forgive me?” he said, his smile devilish and delicious.
Forgive him? Truth be told, I could give a shit about forgiveness. I wanted to fuck him until we both forgot our names, again. The swirl of emotion in my body was almost as wild as the orgasms he’d given me.
Confirmation that he wanted to bend the rules, too, changed everything. We had connected physically and on another level. I felt stupid thinking the connection was spiritual, but he’d touched me body and soul.
“It’s not easy to stop thinking about making love to a woman like you,” Dylan said.
Making love. Those words coming out of his mouth sounded sweet and so dirty. I wanted to take his mouth and push his full lips up against my pussy.
Dylan continued, his voice low, his dark eyes fixed on mine. He made me feel completely seen.
“I am the bad brother. The Fuck-Up. The one who makes messes and breaks things. James is always good, always on the straight and narrow. I am driven by an unrelenting need to be the center of attention.
“I’m obnoxious. I hate being alone, but I hate being around people. It’s a problem. I am fascinated that I don’t hate being around you.”
I said nothing. It was clear that Dylan was a magnet of some sort, charming, captivating, and apparently, self-aware.
“Okay, you want me to trust you?” I said.
“Yeah, I do.”
“Then you tell me the truth.”
The waiter brought him his whiskey neat. Dylan took a sip and looked me straight in the eyes. “All right.”
“Truth,” I said. “Why are you here in Venice?”
“I’m here to forget something sad, and to remember who I really am.”
“Wow,” I said, eyes widening.