Page 92 of Chasing Caine

“Why Océane? What about Thomas?” He kissed each of my hands, which held him at bay. “He was also involved with a looted krater in London.”

“I knew you didn’t like him.” I grinned, tugging the lapels of his jacket to bring him closer. “Maybe we should invite him to dinner tonight and chat about it.”

Antonio pushed my arms against the wall and closed the small distance between us, pressing his hard body against mine. “I’m not sharing you with anyone tonight.”

He was right. There was nothing to do about the investigation at that hour.

But we were staying in Naples overnight.

We could pop by Riccardo Emanuele’s gallery in the morning before heading back to Sorrento. And find out what Eva knew.

Chapter 30

Antonio

TheVistadell’Ovorestaurantbalcony overlooked the Lungomare, the Castel, and the bay beyond. A view made even more spectacular by the woman next to me. We sat at an intimate table for two, one of only five outside. The wrought-iron railing was topped by four small statues of women bearing water pitchers on their shoulders, out of which emerged dim frosted-glass lights.

Samantha took a sip of red wine, her eyes fluttering closed as she sighed. “I’m stuffed.”

I ran my fingers along her jaw, up to her ear. The long, drop earrings highlighted her elegant neck, teasing my mouth, which wanted nothing more than to savor that space. “Is this more the type ofstuffyou appreciate?”

“Experiences over things.” She placed a hand on mine, pulling it to her lips.

The crackled glass globe at the far side of our table flickered with candlelight, catching the sequins adorning her dress. She looked almost as beautiful as the night we attended the charity gala together, when I’d seen her in action for the first time, tracking down the stolen painting at the auction. The night I almost kissed her.

It was hard to say when I’d fallen in love with her. That evening was one of the many candidates.

“Mario brought the National Archaeological Museum curator here for dinner and recommended the place.”

Her eyes snapped open with her laugh. “The one who let us into the tombaroli display?”

“Sì, the exact one.”

Our clasped hands moved to the table, thumbs and fingers exploring in their own private dance of seduction.

“Any room left for dessert?” I inched my chair closer to hers and leaned in to keep my voice low. “Or shall we head back to the hotel? I believe there’s a spot behind your ear I missed earlier and my tongue is begging to explore it.”

Her leg slipped around mine, and she canted her face toward me. “That also sounds like a worthwhile experience.”

“So, finish the wine and leave?”

“Let me think…” She inhaled deeply, cheek pressing against mine. “If we leave now, we’ll have mind-blowing sex at the hotel?”

“We will.”

“And if we have dessert first…” She pulled back with an uncharacteristic giggle. Three glasses of wine was a more magic number than all the alcohol at the club had been. “Then we’ll go back to the hotel and have mind-blowing sex?”

I laughed and straightened. “Sì, the end result is the same. One route includes sugar, the other is simply sooner.”

“Then I choose dessert.” She planted a peck on my nose and stood. “But I need to hit the little girls’ room first.”

“Shall I wait or order for you?”

“Surprise me.” She took one step, then spun back to me, pointing her finger. “Just nothing lemon. I’ve overdosed. And no gelato.”

She walked away, that playful swing to her hips, no hint of a limp. Either the leg was better or the wine was masking her discomfort.

I signaled to our server who brought a dessert menu with six selections. One with limoncello and one with sorbet, so I ordered the other four plus two sweet wines. It would be a surprise, exactly what she asked for.

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